who taught ya how to punch

Jealousy, thou Green-Eyed Bitch

Harry has never been a jealous type, or so he thought. On hindsight, it was probably because he never really cherished or felt so deeply about another person. A feeling that seeped into his very bones- the need to protect, to love, to possess that one significant person.

The first time it had happened, Harry barely recognised it for what it was. It had been a rather slow day at Kingsman (sometimes, even insane megalomaniacs took breaks) and when that happened, the knights often idled their time by polishing their weapons, catching up on each other’s missions by reviewing the feeds or visiting the shooting range. Eggsy had been walking J.B. on the grounds when his proposed recruit for the position of Tristan spotted him.

“Hey Eggsy, Merlin just gave us a day off, wanna spar a lil and relieve the good ol’ days in the marines?” Lucas asked him cheekily.

“I don’t see why not? Since ya so keen on havin your arse handed to ya on a silver platter again” Eggsy replied smoothly without a hitch.


Lucas was strong and powerful but nobody could beat Eggsy at how agile and flexible he was, bending his body at inhuman angles, curving just the right amount to swerve out of a punch. After several minutes of using perfectly executed moves that failed to land a punch on Eggsy, Lucas had given up and decided to abandon all techniques he had been taught at Kingsman and relied instead on his street brawl which unfortunately for him, served only as benefit to Eggsy who swiftly swept his feet out from underneath him with a well placed kick and brought Lucas tumbling onto the ground, but not without him first grabbing onto Eggsy’s shirt for balance which ended with toppling Eggsy onto him.

It was at this moment that Harry walked into the gymnasium and saw how Eggsy straddled Lucas, both of them panting heavily, sweat-soaked shirts sticking to their bodies and Lucas smiling widely at Eggsy. Something hot and ugly unfurled in Harry’s chest. How he wanted to lunge at Lucas, pull him out from under Eggsy and wrap his hands around his neck, warning him that Eggsy belongs only to him and that he had no business touching what was his…

“ ‘Arry? Whatchu doin ‘ere?” The sound of Eggsy’s voice snapped him out of his reverie.

“Walk with me” Harry replied curtly and Eggsy scrambled onto his feet to follow Harry out of the gymnasium, leaving a very confused Lucas sprawled on the mats.

Eggsy had not seen Harry in such a state ever since the time before Kentucky which he refuses to talk about, referring to it only as “you-know-what”. Seeing Harry this mad again only brought back unpleasant memories that sent shivers down his spine.

Turning sharply into a corner, Harry turned toward Eggsy and pushed him against the wall, pressing his body tightly against Eggsy’s. Without another word, he titled Eggsy’s neck and mouthed at the delicate skin there, sucking and licking ruthlessly. “ ‘Arry? Whas wrong?” Although Eggsy did enjoy their escapades to remote parts of Kingsman for their occasional trysts, he did not understand what brought on this sudden aggression in Harry. But Harry did not answer, instead he contented himself with marking every inch of Eggsy’s skin that was visible even with a shirt on. Then it dawned on him.

“ ‘Arry, you’re not jealous, are you? Cause Lucas and I were just havin a lil friendly match, thas all.”

The mouth at Eggsy’s neck pauses.

Mine. You’re mine. Do you understand that?” Harry asked against the base of Eggsy’s throat as he palmed him through his sweatpants.

“Yes, yes I am yours ‘arry. No one else’s.” Eggsy replied as he tries valiantly to refrain himself from moaning. “Now how about we go somewhere where you can show me exactly how much I belong to you?”


Harry never spoke of the incident with Lucas and Eggsy presumed to let the matter rest but jealousy is a green eyed bitch and never rests.

One might imagine that the life of a spy is irregular, unstable and fraught with danger, and it is. That is why whenever they can, as much as they can, Harry and Eggsy endeavour to establish a routine to maintain some semblance of normality in their lives. On Saturdays, they usually stay in, watch a few movies (which remarkably always end up to be Pretty Woman, My Fair Lady or Nikita) and snuggle up in front of the telly. Harry would spend time cooking (after all how often does he get the luxury of time to use the kitchen) and spend an even larger amount of time preventing Eggsy from stealing a bite of what he has cooked. After which, he would try to educate Eggsy on the finer points of appreciating wine and how to complement and savour the wine with different types of flavours while Eggsy challenges himself to how much footsie he can play with Harry before Harry finally relents and drags him up to the bedroom.

On Sundays, it usually involves lazy morning lie-ins and kisses, slow and tender love-making, where they can finally take the time and savour each other, care for each other and show the other just how much he means. When they finally do get out of bed, they move off to play their favourite game. Every couple has their thing. An activity that only the both of them indulge in and is shared with no one else. For Eggsy and Harry, it is going to crowded places on Sundays, taking a few minutes to locate a target and see how much information they can sieve out from that target, then compare notes and see who wins that particular round. It appeals to both their spy instincts and their competitive spirit and it allows Eggsy to finally be able to gloat about something when he finally wins Harry at it (it’s rare, but it does happen… Sometimes)

This time, Harry takes a minute to take in his surroundings and lands his sight on a young man, around Eggsy’s age, wearing a familiar looking snapback, not unlike the one his partner owns and points him out to Eggsy. “That one should be easy enough for you, my dear boy?”

“Oi, I’ll not have you tryna make this easy fer me. I’ll fuckin ace this one. You’ll se-” Eggsy faltered as he finally turned to look up at his chosen target.

“Bloody fuckin hell. Whas he doin here?”

Upon hearing the familiar voice, the Target looks around and spots Eggsy, hurriedly running over to meet him.

“Oi, Eggs! Where ‘ave you buggered off to? After you left the other time I’ve missed you, couldn’t find you at any of the usual spots could I? Had me proper scared love.” the Target started.

Eggsy flushed a bright scarlet as he regarded him. It had been close to 8 years since they last met. Thomas, his very first serious boyfriend, whom he had left because Dean that sunofabitch had dragged him to the streets to peddle for him. He never did explain to Thomas why he’d left and always felt guilty for that, but to be fair, Thomas had never really seen keen on dating Eggsy as seriously as Eggsy had thought, so fair game innit?

“C’mere Eggsy-boy” Thomas started and pulled Eggsy toward him before he could react.

“You look much better now, don’t cha? Whatchu doin ‘ere anyway?” Thomas asked and that was when he noticed Harry, standing stiffly, his hand clamped over the brolly a little too tightly.

“Whozzat Eggs? Your grandad or somefink come to visit?” Thomas asked snidely.

Eggsy noticed the predatory, calculative stance Harry adopted whenever he was engaged in a fight and prayed to whoever was listening that this wouldn’t end up in however those fights usually did. Harry placed a hand possessively on Eggsy’s waist and pulled him closer. The fact that Eggsy naturally leaned into the touch and shuffled impossibly closer did weaken the rage in his heart, but not quite.

Darling, I’m afraid you haven’t introduced us. I am his husband and I am very sorry, but we have somewhere we need to be right now.” Harry stated politely as his hard wandered down to Eggsy’s hip and gave a little squeeze, leaving no room for question as to what kind of relationship Eggsy and Harry had.  


“Husband? I must have been proper pissed since I don’t even know when I acquired you as a husband” Eggsy said cheekily as they were walking away.

“That was the only way to get that twerp to stop pawing at my- you”

“Look Harry” Eggsy stopped walking as he grabbed both of Harry’s hands in his and said “I’m really sorry about all that back there. But honestly and seriously, you needn’t worry about all the other blokes. And none of that nonsense about how you’re old and grey and wrinkly. You’re well fit a’right? And besides all that, I love you. I love how you take your tea hardly steeped, with so much sugar it could make Daisy disgusted, and you know how much she loves sugar, I love how you hog the blankets every night and deny it to the ends of this world that you do, I love how you are ready to jump in front of me and shield me from a fuckin bullet whenever we’re on missions together even though you know I don’t need the protection, I love how you leave your robe on the bed on purpose when you go off on missions because you know I’ll miss you, I love how I return home from missions and see you snuggled up on the sofa, glasses on and a book in your lap with JB warmin up your feet and tea you prepared for my return, I love how you are you Harry. Ain’t no bird or bloke gonna change that. At the end of the day, no matter who flirts or paws at me, I’m going to return home to you, because I fully and entirely belong to you. I’m yours, Harry.”

Harry was hardly at a loss for words. He had an uncanny ability to always have the last word. But this time, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how it was possible to love this incorrigible boy standing in front of him even more than he already has. The boy who is looking at him with such sincerity and understanding and love. So he says simply “let’s head on home, our home.”


Even after the heartfelt speech Eggsy has made, Harry still felt like ripping the throats out of anyone who dared flirt with his boy but he was soothed by the fact that Eggsy remained stubbornly oblivious to any of it and that Eggsy remained irrevocably his.