Chapter Text
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Roxy is an early riser, besting even Merlin at times, so it's a regular occurrence for both men to wake to breakfast in bed. Roxy normally sits with tray on her lap and watches them rest, cuddled together so close. And lets the waft of whatever she’s cooked, whether it is pancakes, croissants, or certain mouth-watering eggs, stir the two men in her life with happy smiles, instead of grumbles.
The tasty wake-up calls however, are secondary to the glory that is Roxy in a combination of their shirts and boxers. It seems akin to a declaration of ownership - you two are mine. It's a thrill that swells Eggsy’s heart every time, and much more.
Merlin always gifts her kisses of excellence on her cooking, after the last forkful. Especially the eggs, his eggs. He'd spent time teaching her all those mornings after she'd asked, so eager to learn like always. He never expected to have them presented to him in such a scenario, but he certainly isn’t complaining. Such a clever girl, he whispers every time, and lays kisses along the exposed skin the fabric of his shirt fails to cover, hanging loosely on her small frame. Lips tender and hands soft in their grip; actions still hazed with sleep, but not for long. Never for too long. The plate removed from his lap and her slim figure replacing it, scooting closer til their chests touch, skin on skin, and he equates a roll of her hips with his having named her own reward.
Another advantage to waking early is so Roxy can draw them. Eggsy's caught her with pencil and pad in hand a few mornings, cracking open an eye to the scratch of graphite. He keeps quiet, not wanting to disturb the flow of her hand trying to capture every detail of their bodies. Merlin's tall frame tucked up behind his smaller one, toned arms keeping him close, so close Eggsy can feel the steady beat of the man’s heart and falls away to the rhythm, and Roxy still sketching.
The first time Merlin penetrates him Eggsy's so sensitive, every nerve-ending electric and sparking, he nearly orgasms from the sensation alone. It seemed like hours Merlin spent opening him up ready, stretching the tight clench and stealing Eggsy's ability to breathe and see straight. But it wasn't just Merlin's hard length finally stealing away inside him after weeks of Eggsy hinting to no avail. Then unabashedly, under the influence of lust, begged and spilled the truth on the brink of release to have that glorious cock throbbing inside him.
Need it so bad, Merlin, please... The rigid curve in his palm, slick and thick, and moving between his fingers, foreskin sliding back, and picturing in his minds-eye it sheathed somewhere else, somewhere much more intimate, tight and perfect, and he whined breathlessly into the stubble of Merlin’s jaw... Wanna feel it. Because he'd wanted it ever since that first time, that first night, that pulsing vein beneath his and Roxy's fingertips, and imagined being filled up to the brim with it. The thought alone could shake him apart, had gotten him off so many times.
Except in the moment Eggsy finally got his wish, it was the other set of eyes on him, a hot and narrowed gaze of another witness at the point where Merlin and him were joined that made it so heightened.
From her perch on the pillows, cross-legged, Roxy had a perfect view to observe Merlin's fingers work their magic and produce cries of more and please, Eggsy’s rump rising and riding the digits. Following whenever they went to retreat, threatening to leave him empty, even a second would be too long, to have them returned to him with volition; pushing and gliding in firm and hot, and crooking just right. Right there.
Every single one of Eggsy's entreaties were refused though, until Merlin was satisfied; three knuckles buried deep and no hitch of pain. Pink furl wet and giving as he scissored his fingers within, telling Merlin the greedy passage was capable of accommodating more; muscles yielding but silent in their needy clenches for a more substantial girth, to be filled.
Merlin patted Eggsy tenderly on the bum as he slipped on a condom, impressed by Eggsy's endurance, his patience for all his pleading. So the tetchy cuss thrown over sweat-sheened skin back at him carved a sharp smirk onto Merlin's lips. Particularly when the swearing was cut short and ended in a stutter as his thumb, fore, and middle finger expertly separated the pert bottom below so to touch the head of his cock to that twitching little hole. A little warning, a little teasing. Merlin’s grin curved wider as two sets of wanton moans met his ears, but a gentleman never rushes.
He took his time, thrusts purposefully shallow til the crown sunk in passed the first ring of sodden and willing muscles, and Merlin had to bite down, splitting his lip as his girth was engulfed by agonisingly sweet heat. Eggsy spasmed around the hard flesh entering him, yet the further it vanished within not a gasp or sigh was uttered only held, mouths agape as of Merlin’s shaft reaching the hilt, and then three moans of pleasure echoed about the four ambient walls...
Eggsy needed something, a distraction, already the tell tales signs sparked low and pooled at the base of his spine. He’d been so good, held off but Merlin crowded that spot that his fingers had only cruelly teased. It felt so good tears prickled the corners of his eyes and he squeezed them shut, unable to keep them open, and bit his nails hard into a pillow. He wasn't going to last, going to come, he needed an anchor, he needed...
His arms hooked under Roxy's legs and dragged her forward, the sudden action surprised a squeak out of her and jerked the hand from her panties to catch herself and stay upright. Eggsy asked with a gasped please just when Merlin ghosted over his prostate again, ending his question in a pitched cry. Roxy carded a hand into his short locks, petted him in a gentle notion of sympathy before sharply tugging on the ashy roots to direct him. The sharp pain saved him, staving him from climaxing just that little longer, and all to get him closer to where wet lace had been peeled aside. Where she needed him, and where he was more than happy to go; chin tilting and neck craning to extend a heavy tongue to gratify her.
Hands splayed over the two wonderful divots above the flexing muscles of Eggsy’s arse, thumbs massaging and pressing into the two dips, Merlin hummed to himself and fucked into the younger man beneath him slowly. He timed his thrusts just so; precisely, purposely, now that he had his own spectacular view to enjoy. No need to hurry.
Merlin is the most pliant in the mornings. Catch him just before he stirs and he’s like putty to do with and whatever one wants. Eggsy likes sneaking beneath the covers to invite a slow pleasurable waking that ushers Merlin’s knees up and threads a tight fist into short hair. And Merlin’s mouth is more than obliging for Roxy to sink onto; enjoying the slight burn of morning stubble and the echo of his moans as she rides his tongue, all the while Eggsy swallows him below.
He’s also the most vocal in bed. Merlin may not swear as much as Eggsy or encourage breathily like Roxy, but is the opposite of his day to day, straight-to-the-point manner. Why say something in three sentences when you can say it in one. He despises rambling. But get Merlin hot under the collar; cheeks flushed and hands grabby, and he'll sing for you til his velvet voice turns to a rasp and words can no longer make it passed his lips. The rumbles and groans deep within his chest however, more than fill the verbal void.
Eggsy has come more than once from Merlin’s aroused vocalisations. Whether Merlin rutting hard and unforgiving inside him, abandoned words of a delirious man spilling hot and filthy against his ear and sink and press just as deep as the man’s cock. They’re enough to bring Eggsy to orgasm without a secondary touch. Or a hand on himself and watching Roxy ride Merlin with punctuated grinds and clenches of her pelvic wall, drawing out blasphemes prayers of a faithless man.
She keeps Merlin on the precipice until he’s gasping for it, beseeching for release, and she shushes him each and every time with a needy whisper, right beside his ear. Please, not yet. Just a little longer. Voice purposely small and sinfully crafted so he can't possibly say no. No one could. Relenting on his own desires, he gives Roxy whatever she wants, accepting a slow, probing kiss in exchange. Her tongue delving deep like an anchor, distracting to halt any tumbling over the edge even a second too soon before she wants it. His grip shifting lower to brace for the torturous repeat, pushing his own state to the back burner so she can take what she needs from him. Knuckles flexing at the impossibly slow rise then grind down of her weight, digging his thumbs into the join of her hip and thigh but not controlling, not guiding, just holding on for the ride.
That’s when Eggsy began to notice in those moments when he could easily join in, he wouldn't. He would just watch. He should want to step in and participate, and he does, except a larger part of him stops his feet or hands, and lets his eyes do the wandering.
He tried hiding it, ignoring and denying the urge all together before they could notice the perversion and say something. Except Merlin and Roxy had noticed and did say something. Ambushed him and extracted the confession from him. Bound his wrists and put him on his knees, then took a solitary chair to situate themselves before him. Roxy propped upon Merlin’s lap and she braced her calves one on either side of Eggsy's broad shoulders, before Merlin decidedly, as always, took his sweet, sweet time... They didn't even need to lay a finger on him, not once. Just told him it was okay. It's not shameful to look. We like it. And he came untouched; tailored trousers ruined.
It's now an addiction. The shame is still there but only makes the itch under his skin and gaze hotter now that he’s been given permission. There's no longer any guilt studying how Merlin takes Roxy apart, and he’s learned things, wicked things, observing their body’s reactions to each other. And noticed, whereas he loves using his mouth on her, Merlin has a fondness to apply his long fingers, curling them just right and focusing on getting her even wetter. And Roxy only ever gasps for more.
She has her own fetish. From wrist to palm to fingertips, Roxy loves Merlin's hands. They're aesthetically perfectly, and he can do so much with them. Dear god, can he.
It was during training Roxy’s little inclination became apparent. He stripped a standard Kingsman issue and reloaded within seconds, smoothly, efficiently, without his green eyes straying from the recruits. As if those long digits had the memory, not his mind, and then confirmed her notion. "You will learn this process until you can do it by feel alone. You will be blindfolded and timed. Under 15 seconds, or you'll be sent home. You have three hours. Good luck."
"What's the record?" Digby had asked. His father was of the hunting sort and owned every gun that was legal, been brought up with them. Dismantling the chambers and reloading was a pastime.
"10.5 seconds." Merlin almost imperceptible in his skeptism towards Digby's less-than-disguised challenge.
And he never did beat the record. He only just managed 14. Roxy on the other hand, did it in 10 flat. But Merlin had quirked a smile at her, almost proud, no derision present. "Good job, Miss Morton."
She'd managed to keep her embarrassment concealed, no heat rising to her cheeks, but barely before he’d strode away. If Merlin had known then she learned the sequence so quickly by recalling his beautiful fingers in action, she would've been mortified. However, in the first month of this foray into a ménage a trois, she slipped into the sleek black car waiting outside the London hotel, having finished the honeypot assignment, but she hadn't.
Merlin had barely turned a dimly lit street corner before she swept into the front seat and onto his lap. "Pull over."
"Roxy..."
"Pull over." Lips attaching to his neck on a particularly weak spot while her fingertips caressed the length of his over the gearstick. "I'm so wet. Feed me your fingers. Please."
Merlin obeyed, practically hand-braked into a parking spot. Thank god it was two am and the Aston's windows were tinted as her tongue plunged and met with his. No one had ever kissed him the way she does, so possessive, all consuming, breathtaking. It struck him dumb and curled a fist of heat at the base of his spine every time. He can only ever succumb to it.
It had been Merlin's instructions rather than the target who'd put her in this state, that rich brogue over the comm and imagining his knuckles gracing the soft skin of her inner thigh and travelling lower. It's what had got her through til she no longer had to… Merlin was finally touching her the way she'd fantasised about. So perfect, so right, it loosened her lips and she confessed her obsession like a catholic sinner, and just how she beat the gun-trial time.
Merlin didn't falter, didn't stop through all breathy exclamations against his stubbled jaw and bruised lips. He continued sliding and inching his fingers deeper, rubbing over the nub just right and calling her a clever girl to draw out a high-pitched cry. Then as she rode his palm, wet from the steady drip of her enthusiasm, divulged that it had been his record she'd bested that day and channeled his thoughts on the matter and newly divulged information upon her. Set about applying his dexterous talent beneath the chiffon of her blue dress, which had risen so nicely up to the crease of her hips that he could witness clearly the easy journey of his digits sinking between her thighs.
Merlin spent a lot longer than eleven seconds attending to Roxy, delighting her for the first time with his hands alone. Enough to pinch her fingernails into the leather interior of his seat while his did the same to the firmness of her bottom, encouraging her rocking rhythm, bringing her further forward onto his ministrations. He memorised every caress and stroke that brought heat to her cheeks and moans to her lips, wet fingers seeking in the heat, clutching and cupping her dripping mound to culminate and calculate the right pressure, at the right moment, to have her hips buck and throw her head back in a ravaged scream.
Merlin placed a loving kiss to Roxy’s damp temple as she lay sated and boneless upon his chest, and whispered softly to her with no care to their location or any passersby. Nor to his valet attire. Roxy had to fetch him a clean pair of suit pants from inside the tailors once they'd returned. And thanked every deity Harrison had taken a 'convenient' tea break while on the nightshift.
So for Roxy it's Merlin's slender, talented hands, while for Eggsy it's to watch. A filthy, dirty, hungry voyeur panting heavy at the scene of Roxy clinging to Merlin, her hands grabbing and nails scratching. Sharp crescents are taking shape into the shifting muscles of his back, spine dipping and shoulder blades rolling as he strives to claim her body. Her toned thighs squeeze his hips, rocking him forward, encouraging him deeper until he's flush against her. Eggsy's hand strokes in time with every thrust and he shudders at every one of Roxy's responding moans, praising and cursing Merlin's pace, who won't ever fuck like a mad man. Hard and rough but never quick. In this particular case it's his revenge on the younger woman, giving her a heady dose of her own medicine for every minute she's staved off his pleasure.
Sometimes it's too much though and it loosens one punishing hand off Merlin and stretches over the sheets to grasp for Eggsy, needy. He crawls closer in those moments, so very close and laces her fingers in his, and licks a strip up to her ear to speak low and obscene. How'd she'd sound caught between the two of them, at their mercy, their two cocks filling her up... bubbling a wanton keen from her redden, parted lips. And for Merlin to pitch forward, a quick snap of his hips; an inch deeper and closer to the edge, loudly groaning his assent at the promising idea.
But gentlemen always let their partners come first. Always. And there just so happens to be two of them.
Merlin's taken to fucking them while standing; up against bedroom walls, doors, and the cockpit. High off adrenalin and not sparing enough time to even discard suits, just flicking the switch to auto-pilot, and trousers and underwear dragged low. Ticking not one but two experiences off of Eggsy's bucket list, joining the mile high club and fucked by a man in uniform. The dry-cleaning bill runs higher every air-bound mission.
However, the mansion's corridors, long and winding with hidden pockets, provide the trio with their homely excitement. The smallest of blind spots only Merlin knows about and puts such expert knowledge to good use, pressing upon Eggsy or Roxy's needy frame after they pressed upon him. Relieving the heat in his veins at the sly touches of his knee or arm, and hot whispers whilst leant upon his shoulders while he's sat in the lab trying to work. Sometimes out of hours but then sometimes not, such is the delicious challenge of keeping quiet less they be heard and caught with their bespoke trousers down.
He's reprimanded them once, telling them to be careful, but mostly not to be so cruel to him, that descended into apologetic kisses and multiple orgasms. But Eggsy didn't heed the warning; he just had to push, and received a spanking he wouldn't forget in a hurry over Merlin's knees. Then again, wouldn't want to. Eggsy even missed the sting when sitting down once the bruises of the salacious beating had faded. Made him want to rile Merlin a little more, do it again. And maybe he would. Definitely would.
On particular nights, when Merlin can't come out to play, and carefully chosen knowing secondary eyes don't lurk on the security monitors, do the crafty pair make use of their knowledge of the mansion. Merlin, the foremost on multitasking, never falters in his instructions and aid while overseeing active missions, even whilst surveying Roxy and Eggsy out the corner of his eye and a hand missing from the dashboard. Only the first time spotting their activities did he double-take and surrender a low Oh, Eggsy on his knees and Roxy's bare leg tight over his shoulder. But didn't close the screens on that occasion, or on any other.
Any footage captured of the indiscretions is of course edited for no other technician to find. Imagine the shock if they were to come across agent Galahad with his legs spread wide and Merlin’s unmistakable lean frame situated between them. Firm ass clenching and rocking forward, trousers and boxers pooled at his ankles, strong hands hooked under Eggsy’s knees practically forcing them to the wall to keep him open as he ploughs into the younger man with a will. Gruff belly-deep groans scratching the raw, lavished skin of Eggsy’s neck, along with the sharp pain of teeth to contrast to the slick, pleasurably glide of Merlin’s cock to enforce the point that this is punishment. Merlin finally letting the teasing little shit have it, what he's been asking for all day. Giving him a thoroughly rough ride to answer all those tempting touches and insinuating stares. He won’t walk right for days.
And with the force and feel of Merlin’s cock pounding and holding Eggsy up amongst the staring portraits, being fucked in full view of past members of the Kingsman lineage, Eggsy knows he will feel those painted eyes on him every time he passes them in the future, and feel open in the most intimate way remembering the ghost of Merlin inside him.
However, never more intimate are the evenings and occasional morning Merlin licks his way in; tongue strong, breaching the most private part of him until he's had his fill and Eggsy can't keep to his knees without help. Steady hands then on his hipbones, keeping him propped, Merlin slides in with ease until he’s flush against his ass. No more inch for Eggsy’s greedy, quivering body to take. Eggsy knew then, the first time, and every time since that he was ruined for anybody else. His heart pounding so hard and fast besting even the pace of Merlin’s punishing length, crown of the man’s cock glancing the bundle of nerves inside to the point he can barely handle it and has to bury his face in the pillows, crying out in abandon. To which Merlin always anchors his weight down so he can't escape the moment, can’t escape him. Knows who's above him, who’s buried inside to the very hilt, and feels the sweat from their strenuous activities mingle together in the demanding press. And Merlin’s voice low and lustful reaches the very marrow in Eggsy's bones as he rocks them closer, tighter, and tells him he’s such a good boy as he calls out Merlin’s name, spending his load across the sheets unbidden.
The first time, not an hour later, Merlin was perfectly dressed; glasses and sweater in place, and clipboard in hand answering questions at the head of the Kingsman table with an authority no one doubted. Eggsy couldn't look him in the eye. Everyone else unaware of the man's sinful appetite. Eggsy could still feel Merlin’s lips and nibble of his teeth, the hot lick of his…
When Merlin caught the glassy eyes of young Galahad staring most pointedly at the thin line of his mouth, he hid his smirk behind a lick of his lips. Barely a glimpse of tongue but Eggsy abruptly squirmed in his seat and that wonderful blush returned from earlier that Merlin had worked hard all the morning to paint on him. The milky and still mostly unmarred skin of Eggsy’s chiselled but ever-so-flexible body, glowed a lovely pink and stretched the length of his body. But now sadly beneath tailored layers, Merlin’s view was obstructed from seeing how far it went. Whereas not long ago, naked and still warm and yielding from sleepiness, Eggsy's cheek had been pressed to the sheets puffing hot breaths between lean legs, and Merlin had an eyeful and a mouthful of the young boy’s flesh. Reclined against the headboard and arms supporting his legs, not letting him slip away, he kept Eggsy up to the challenge and reach of his mouth.
He’d been embarrassed at first, Eggsy trying to hide his face and tamp down his confused enthusiasm, yet still squirming and keening up at every lick and wet trace of Merlin's tongue. He hadn't wanted to get up, refused to, even after breakfast, and watching Merlin's hand sink between Roxy's folds before she left. He enjoyed the show as always, then rolled over to snooze some more. Merlin had to do something. And he just so happened to kill two birds with one stone. He’d been tempted for awhile; Eggsy really did have the most wonderful bottom.
Seconds were had later that afternoon, with an audience. An answer to the questioning eyebrow Roxy had quirked between the two over the Kingsman table, very curious. And she was left more than satisfied.
If anyone ever catches Merlin idle at his workbench, mulling over designs or concentrating to solve an immediate issue, anyone observant would notice a new tick; hands resting on his hipbones while his fingers rub unconsciously at the crease beneath the band of his trousers and tucked shirt. But to discover why would leave many red-faced in the department, shocked and in disbelief to uncover. A particular brand of bruising, two a permanent fixture upon his person, one from each glorious mouth of his lovers left on the defined V of his hips.
Except those aren’t the only ones.
Eggsy and Roxy take it upon themselves to colour Merlin up, smatter his body from top to toe. Initially an experiment, Merlin’s wrists attached to the headboard by the material of his silk tie, echoing the sensation of their tongues over his goose-pimpled flesh. Sucking and nipping to discover and familiarise, producing such torrid moans Merlin became an instrument for them to play. The sheets bunching beneath Merlin’s heels as they draw lower and at their leisure, having learnt from the best to savour every throaty groan and the heady taste of a job well done. Taking turns and watching under lashes for Merlin's reactions, wrists pulling and toes curling, and the beads of sweat running the path from his temple to his collarbone a testament to them and just what they, together, can do to him.
They remember to be cautious, not to push too hard for too long though. Merlin is not fragile but he can only take so much. They do show mercy in abundance, meeting to slot their mouths over him, hot and wet, stretching to touch and work along the shaft to the rim of the head. Sharing the spoils like always when he pulses sticky salt between their lips.
His naked reflection stares back every morning in the misted bathroom mirror, and Merlin can’t help but caress the bruises, prideful in the way he draws and traces the pattern over the bone of his hip. The bloom of his favourite signs of claiming always a comfort to him. He fingers the dark purple marks with a half-pained but amused chuckle, then turns to admire the marred flesh at the top of his shoulders and over the slope of his back. The result and evidence of two sets of hands and lips working together, adventurous and daring, that tugs a smile from the corners of his.
Eggsy and Roxy caught him during such a worshipful display, heads peeped round the bathroom door, and promised to do it ever since. Merlin’s kink should've been obvious really with his neck so sensitive, and he relishes every long, red score down his spine with a shudder. So never would he go about without their brand upon him or let them fade without replacing.
And if anyone noticed his sudden penchant for turtlenecks, no one said a word.
Eggsy never knew how much laughter he could experience during sex but Roxy and him always seem to gasp with chuckles just as much from pleasure. He loves her close; forearm curved to the line of her, hand splayed between her shoulderblades, stomachs touching as he rocks into her. She tips her head, neck bared when it becomes all too much and giggles, yet her heels press into the toned globes of his ass encouraging him, hips rolling to take him in.
He gets caught up sometimes, just admiring, unconsciously slowing his movements earning him a smack to his arm and sharp reprimand of, “Focus, Eggsy.” Though a playful smile always on her lips.
“Yes, maam, sorry, maam.” And he gets right back to it. Until they’re on the brink once more, her mouth open and her blonde locks spreading so lovely over the pillow…
"You bastard. Don't you dare stop," and gets another swipe for him faltering.
He blames her, of course. “Shouldn’t distract me so much.” It’s her fault for being so beautiful. But Eggsy wouldn't stop, not for the world, and he tells her that. Whispers; breath ghosting purposely to trail goosebumps, loving the way her fingers tug and bite into his scalp, and swear by almighty god if he stops again...
Sometimes he's kind, other times he takes another page from Merlin's book.
And Eggsy never knew he could be taken care of, or allow himself to be. For his body to be vulnerable and open, yet not be scared.
It hits him in the aftermath, spent and breathless, chest shimmering with perspiration and rising quick to gather air. Merlin's hands going from deliciously bruising to delicately careful, soothing over his skin to hold and lower him gently from his seated position on Merlin's lap to the soft mattress. Gasping a whimper at the sudden emptiness abandoning him, his legs surrendering a spasm in the change of position after riding for so long and so hard. Before Merlin cleans him up, speaking warm Scottish endearments and kissing to distract from any minor discomfort while he checks the tenderest of places, scrutinises the consequences of their enthusiastic activities. The mindfulness causes Eggsy’s heart to twinge and chest to stutter, overwhelmed, and catch Merlin's mouth with his own and hold him there until his tired body succumbs to exhaustion.
He never thought it could be like this, or could feel this way and not be at a disadvantage or used. Not to have worry hanging over his head and a thick shield protecting his heart, not be afraid to let anyone in…
Yet in the middle of the two, Merlin above him, fingers curving over the small of his back drawing a warm cloth lower, while Roxy smiles kisses against Eggsy’s jaw, knees still cradling his sides in the afterglow, Eggsy realises he's not just let one person in, but two…
His shoulders begin to shake with the sudden force of it, overcome by the weight, and he seeks sanctuary in the column of Roxy's neck.
"Eggsy? What's wrong?" Merlin's immediate concern beside his left ear. "Did I hurt you?"
Eggsy nearly laughs at the absurdity because Merlin never could. There's not one part of him, not for a second, in any way believes Merlin could hurt him. Even after all he's seen the man is capable of, not towards him, or Roxy.
Roxy cups his face, coaxing his head from her shoulder gently, smile gone, and replaced with a frown. Lips pursed and that little crease above her eyebrow telling him she's here, her focus entirely on him. "Eggsy, tell us. What's wrong?"
Eyes closing briefly, trailing tears down his cheeks, he shakes his head. "N,nothing, nothing's wrong." And a small smile breaks over his face because it's true. "Nothing at all."
This is absurd. Ridiculous. Unbelievable. But he’s in love with every part and every piece of this moment. Of his life. With these two people.
He's happy.
“I’m happy.”
Roxy claims his mouth sweetly, completely, leaving no room for doubt that the feeling is mutual. And Merlin presses his chest to Eggsy’s frame with a gentle pressure and lavishes his neck and line of his shoulders with the same dedication.
And whoever thought that was possible, knew such things could happen in real life, Eggsy didn't. Not until now.
Fin.