UruruOreSama
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Harry blinked and said, “Eggsy,” with warmth but undeniable surprise.
Though he had anticipated exactly this reception, Eggsy barely managed to keep his face from falling. Harry never seemed anything but pleased by Eggsy’s visits, but the fact that he plainly expected to see less of Eggsy hurt. Eggsy suspected that Harry disapproved but was too kind to say so, and Harry would never have let good manners stop him from telling Eggsy where he was going wrong before; it was just one more sign that the ties that had bound them together for so long were unraveling
Eggsy becomes a knight. It doesn't simplify his relationship with his master as much as he hoped it might.
Bookmarked by UruruOreSama
31 Dec 2024
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Harry sees Eggsy and thinks he's simply a handsome stranger out for a pint with friends.
Eggsy sees Harry and thinks he's simply a handsome stranger working in a pub.
They're both right. They're both wrong.
Bookmarked by UruruOreSama
31 Dec 2024
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Poem Without Words by KagekaNecavi for Regency
Fandoms: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
23 Aug 2015
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Written for the Hartwin Secret Santa. My prompt was as follows: Modern Greek Muses AU: In a modern era where the Greek muses still grant favor to artists in need, Harry Hart is afraid he's lost his gift. Two days after he makes his offering at the temple of the Nine Muses, Eggsy appears in his sitting room. He is walking inspiration, breathing temptation. Harry cannot decide if rather sketch him or ravish him on every surface. Unsurprisingly, he elects to do both.
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Bookmarked by UruruOreSama
31 Dec 2024
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Eggsy is a Kingsman masseuse, and Agent Galahad is in need of his... services.
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Bookmarked by UruruOreSama
31 Dec 2024
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Not that he knows that at first, but Harry meets the mysterious inhabitant of #10 Stanhope Mews at precisely 2:35 on the morning of September 12th, 2015.
He's stepped out onto the balcony to smoke a fag when he notices that, bold as brass, someone is breaking into #10. “I don’t think my neighbor would appreciate that.”
The hooded figure fiddling with the door jerks. Something shiny and metallic falls, tinkling like a bell as it strikes the cobblestone. “Oh, fuck off, bruv!”
(In which Harry does not remember who he is, but perhaps his neighbor does.)
Bookmarked by UruruOreSama
31 Dec 2024