Harry returned about an hour later, laden with grocery bags- and didn’t get two steps into his house before he froze, the immediate sense of something wrong taking him by the throat. There was someone else there. Harry was still for less than a second while he processed all that, got on his guard, and was moving again as if he suspected nothing amiss. It was a pause only someone who did that sort of thing for a living would have noticed at all.
Harry’s guest did do that sort of thing for a living. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Eggsy,” Harry said. He relaxed, flicked on the light, and saw Eggsy in the sitting room, curled up in an armchair. Eggsy was blinking to adjust to the new brightness; just how long had he been sitting there in the dark? “If I’d known you would be back already I would’ve offered to pick you up.“
Eggsy’s mouth twisted and he shrugged.
Harry didn’t know if he had done something wrong. It made him feel awkward. "I wasn’t sure if you would want to go home or not.”
“I did,” Eggsy said.
He didn’t elaborate further, and for a second Harry couldn’t have moved if his life depended on it. He envisioned Eggsy thinking of this- of him- as home and it made him weak, made him foolish. He normally tried to be upbeat about all this, tried not to wallow in how desperately he wanted Eggsy and how much it would hurt if it never did work out- but Eggsy’s abrupt departure had made him think and feel things he had meant to put behind him. It was residual bitterness from that period, Harry told himself, that made him so unreasonably angry for the no-doubt unintended double meaning. Eggsy hadn’t been saying that.