After the game, Dave asks Roxy to void him up some apple juice.
“Just don’t think about pee while you do it,” John adds.
Roxy freezes; how do you not think about piss after someone says something like that. She thinks her hardest about apple juice, fearful that other thoughts will slip in. A bottle appears, full of yellow liquid.
Hartwin from the eyes of Daisy, Roxy, Merlin and Charlie...
I PROMISE I DIDN’T JUST STOP DOING THESE. I just got stupid busy with work, class, and too many rehearsals.
Merlin had known Harry Hart for years. They’d met in their
first year of uni and had … not always been friends, if he were honest They had
been rivals, challenging each other to do better, and by the time they’d
graduated they were indeed the closest of friends. They’d been together through
everything—good grades, poor grades, hangovers, crushes, and despite the fact
that Harry Hart was a fucking showboating overdramatic peacock, he was a true
They were recruited together for Kingsman, to take the place
of the recently-lost Galahad. As always, they pushed each other to be better
and promised not to hurt each other in their quest for the title.
In the end, Harry Hart became Galahad, and Merlin … well,
the only reason he lost out was he’d pulled the trigger a half second after his
friend had done. Arthur hadn’t wanted to lose him, and after reviewing their
scores throughout the past months it was decided Merlin would train for tech
and run point on missions. He’d still use the skills he’d mastered alongside
Harry, and there would be times he would be called into the field as well,
though his exemplary scores with computers meant he would be better put to use
keeping the brasher agents alive.
Merlin knew the only reason he went bald is that he ripped
it out keeping Harry from doing anything too stupid for so many years.
Unfortunately, Harry was a well of stupid ideas and Merlin refused to take
credit for any of the scars Harry’d earned by not listening.
He knew Harry better than he knew himself at this point,
thirty-five years into their friendship.
So when Harry brought in Lee Unwin’s son as a candidate, he
was instantly suspicious of his friend’s motives. There were plenty of other
suitable candidates that wouldn’t have caused Arthur to look so
disgusted—though that was likely the initial appeal of bringing in someone from
such a different walk of life.
When he was hurt after Professor Arnold exploded on him,
Eggsy was there, and Merlin kept an eye on him. There was no reason for him to
spend so much time there; nor was it going to help him get through
Then he noticed the smiles. The lingering looks. The fact
that Harry’s computer alerted him every time Eggsy’s file was accessed—and it
was often. Harry was pulling up the
videos of Eggsy completing his training. Harry deflected, of course; he’d
always been a master at avoiding topics he wanted to.
Merlin had spent many years watching and learning about the
people with whom he worked, and so when he saw the way Eggsy looked at his
mentor, he knew there was something there. Until Kentucky, however, he was sure
it was just a bit of hero worship or some misplaced father issues over losing
Lee at such a young age.
But the tears in his eyes as he clung to Harry after
Kentucky, the way Harry’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly, Merlin
realised he had it all wrong.
This wasn’t just a passing fancy. This wasn’t familial
affection, or hormones, or Harry thinking with his dick. This was real.
He caught up with Harry alone after a while, waiting for the
right moment to speak with him. “He loves you, too,” he said, and Harry’s
cheeks pinked a bit. “I expect to be the best man at your wedding, Harry.”
“Of course you’ll be my best man. I wouldn’t have lived long
enough to have a wedding without you!”
Merlin only smiled wider; Harry was already speaking as
though it was a certainty.
“You might want to let your young man in on your plans for
the rest of his life, then,” Merlin replied, sipping his tea.
He was sure Eggsy would be completely enthusiastic about
anything Harry suggested, after all.
It was favouritism, that’s what it was.
The pleb was putting out. That’s how he’d managed to make it
so far in training.
Charlie had had his suspicions from day one about why Eggsy
had even been let in the door. His clothes were too tight, too common, too
low-class for the ranks of Kingsman. Clearly the only reason he was there was
that he was buggering at least one among their number.
But if he were being totally honest in a way he’d never
admit out loud, for a pleb, he wasn’t completely unskilled. He still reeked of
cheap drugs and boosted liquor, though, and nothing could wash that stench
It only made sense that Eggsy made friends with the girl.
They probably both liked taking it from older men.
But Charlie knew better. He was there from skill. He had
been bred to be the best, a champion among lesser mortals. A purebred among the
mongrels with whom he was forced to interact. A Kingsman agent trapped with a
group of losers.
But when he fucking lost, he couldn’t believe it. The girl
and Eggsy, better than him?
His father did hear about it, in great detail. And he was
promised a way back in.
After V-Day, after things had been sorted and the bodies
buried, Charlie went to the shop, contrite—or as contrite as he could be, given
that he wasn’t a single bit sorry he’d opted to save his own skin. He gave them
a sob story about how alone he was now that his family were dead, lost during
the raid on Valentine’s compound, their colourfully exploding heads haunting
“I ain’t buyin’ it,” a voice said, and Charlie glanced back
from where he’d been talking to Merlin. They were supposed to be alone, but
that was definitely Eggsy in a Kingsman suit, and Galahad beside him, leaning
heavily on a cane. Given what he knew the man had gone through—Valentine and
his girl had been positively gleeful to tell him of the agency’s loss—that part
wasn’t a surprise.
The way Eggsy’s hand curled around the other man’s bicep,
signet glinting from the shadows, that was a shock.
“Nor am I,” Merlin said. “Charlie, you were dismissed, and
you still are. Get out.”
And so he stood, passing beside the scum that had usurped
his place with only a short pause.
“Knew you had to be fucking someone to have made it this
He only regretted it when he felt the fist connecting with
the back of his skull.
From the moment she introduced herself to him, Roxy knew
that she and Eggsy would be the best of friends. He was a good person, she
could tell, and smarter than he let on. She’d always been able to read people
She was glad her hunch was right, though; she’d not have
made it as far as she had without him beside her. Nor would he without her;
they challenged each other to be better and to improve, their weaknesses
transforming little by little into strengths over the course of their training.
And though only one of them would get the position of
Lancelot, Roxy didn’t find herself wanting Eggsy to lose any more than she herself
wanted to lose. He’d told her of his family and what this opportunity meant to
him. He confided in her how his proposer had found him, and she saw the way his
eyes softened as he spoke of him.
There was something there, in how he felt for his mentor,
that went beyond the norm. There were days that she wouldn’t see him at all
until he came sneaking back from the hospital wing, and Eggsy would brush off
her questions each time. She hadn’t been proposed because she was just a pretty
face, after all, and she had a plan to make.
She’d been excellent at tracking, and she would follow him.
If he caught her, she’d explain that she was looking for either her mentor or
Merlin, depending on how recently they’d seen the latter. And regardless, she’d
keep at it until she saw where it was he kept disappearing to.
Her plan, as it turned out, worked perfectly. Eggsy didn’t
seem to notice he was being followed, or perhaps he didn’t care as he slipped
into one of the rooms reserved for injured agents.
She stepped up to the door, looking in through the small
window. There Eggsy was, sitting in a plush chair pulled right up next to the
bed, fingertips barely brushing against the man in bed’s own hand. That wasn’t
the sort of touch one gave to family, and the fond look in his eyes, like the
man in the bed meant everything to him, that was too open, too strong, to be
anything but love.
Roxy never questioned Eggsy about it again after that, but
she watched him carefully. How one day, Merlin pulled him aside and he very nearly
ran from the room. How after that he was a lot happier and didn’t sneak off so
It was definitely love, then. He wanted to be good enough
After he failed the dog test (and gave her an earful about shooting her fucking dog what the fuck Rox?!) and losing Galahad, she knew he
would take the title. It was only fitting, and he would take it and do his best
to live up to the name.
And he did, starting a wall of headlines after carefully
pulling down the former Galahad’s pages and packing them away.
Eggsy got by all right after that, but there was a sadness
in his eyes, different than the one they’d held during training. Most people
probably didn’t even realise it, but Roxy knew Eggsy too well, and why he
seemed so haunted. His family didn’t seem to notice; then again, they’d not
seen him throughout training, and it was a bit disheartening to think that his
own blood had never seen him truly happy before.
The day they found out Harry was still alive was a
revelation. Eggsy cried on Roxy’s shoulder, and she held him after Merlin
politely left the room to give him some space. As close as Merlin had been to
Harry, it made sense that he’d seen how Eggsy felt—had known how Harry felt,
perhaps? She didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, because once the plane
carrying Harry landed Eggsy was off, racing through headquarters to the hangar
and barely waiting for Harry to get down the steps before he was hugging him,
muttering something Roxy couldn’t hear but that made Harry smile fondly,
running shaking fingers through the young man’s hair. Every touch was careful
and deliberate between them, more than that of a platonic relationship. When
Eggsy hesitated, Harry swept in and kissed the younger man’s lips, and Merlin
and Roxy shared a soft smile.
That was love, and Roxy was glad Eggsy had found it.
Daisy knew that something was different between Eggsy and
Mr. Hart right around her seventh birthday. Sure, Mr. Hart had been around a
long time, and he was always really nice to her and Mummy, but it took her a
long time to realise that he was more than nice to her brother. He hugged them
all, but his fingers lingered on Eggsy’s shoulder much longer than with anyone
else’s. It was subtle, but there, and it only bothered her because she couldn’t
quite figure it out on her own.
Mummy told her Eggsy and Mr. Hart were just very good
friends. That wasn’t right, though; Daisy had good friends of her own but she
never looked at Jenna Smith with soppy cow eyes like that.
She tried to ask Eggsy about it, about why Mr. Hart watched
him so fondly, like how Mummy’s new boyfriend looked at her, but he’d gone a
bit red and told her she was seeing things.
She wasn’t seeing things. She knew there was something
there. Eggsy was happier when Mr. Hart was around. At night, sometime she could
hear the on the phone together, voices low so even with her ear pressed to the
wall she could only pick up a few words and a bit of laughter. When they were
out together, Eggsy picked things up for Mr. Hart, and Eggsy said he only ever
spoiled his family.
So that meant Mr. Hart was family, except Mummy didn’t seem
very put out by any of it. She seemed pleased as punch when Mr. Hart was around
and even made him fancy Sunday roasts when he came to dinner. Daisy kind of
remembered how Mummy had disliked Mr. Hart at first, after they’d moved away
from her Daddy.
Mummy knew more than she let on.
But Daisy liked Mr. Hart a lot, so she tried not to think
too hard about how even when Eggsy wasn’t away doing his tailor stuff he was
with Mr. Hart and not with her. He didn’t treat her like a baby, and even took
her out to museums and the zoo and movies so she could learn new things, and he
was better at playing knights than anyone.
“Are you gonna marry Eggsy?” Daisy asked Mr. Hart one day,
when he was taking care of her so Mummy could go to work, and Eggsy was on a
business trip to fit some old rich guy with a new suit in India.
“You like Eggsy lots. You treat him specialler’n anyone. An’
you give him stuff like Mummy’s boyfriend gives her, but only things Eggsy
likes. An’ you come to dinner an’ you don’t gotta.”
Mr. Hart looked a bit shocked, but his expression was mostly
soft and fond, once Daisy began talking. “Well, you’re a perceptive girl.
Promise me you’ll keep it a secret?” he asked her, and Daisy bounced excitedly,
nodding. She could keep secrets! Mr. Hart leaned closer, though they were in
his house with the butterfly walls and nobody else was around. “I’ve already
asked your mum permission to marry Eggsy. And if you’re all right with it, I—”
“I’m okay with it! Eggsy’s mad for you! Can we still play
once you’s married? An’ you’ll still come to dinner, right? Mummy only ever
makes cream puffs when you’re there!”
Harry laughed. “I promise we’ll still come to dinner,” he
assured her. “Not much will change.”
Daisy smiled wide. She’d been right about Mr. Hart and her
brother, and she was happy about it.
I’ll still be taking prompts, but holy shit life’s kicking my ass and they’re definitely slooooooooooooow as hell now.
I never even considered John/Rose cause it was so obviously never going to happen, but John/Roxy feels like the real hetbait ship cause Roxy ends up with Calliope in their very own kingdom afterwards. Weird cause there's way more johnrose content than roxygen content in the fandom :(
Yeah, I love Rose and John as friends, it’s honestly one of my favorite relationships, I just don’t like them in a romantic sense.
I do actually like John/Roxy quite a bit? haha I know I’m like a big femslash blogger but damn that’s a pretty cute ship in my mind. I’m happy for Roxy/Callie/Jane, as canon femslash is a rare and good thing, and I’ll admit it has a lot more set-up, so objectively it’s a stronger ship. But I like both.