Chapter Text
Mycroft truly didn't think he'd live to see the day that Chester King would die. He knew that something would eventually have to happen to the old man, but he could never actually picture King meeting his (quite timely) demise. Mycroft could’ve said the same thing about Harry Hart. Rebellious, back-talking, risk-taking, sex-on-legs Harry Hart who Mycroft thought would outlive him and then some.
The news of Harry’s death had surprised Mycroft even more than the news of the agent being alive. What had surprised Mycroft the most, though, was the news of Harry being romantically entangled.
Waking into the office that formerly belonged to Chester King, Mycroft couldn't help his stomach lurching. It was too familiar. Although he hadn't stepped foot on Kingsman grounds in a generous number of years, memories came flooding back to him. Memories of a young Agent Galahad with fluffy hair and a sparkling grin that won him most honeypot missions. Memories of field work that left adrenaline buzzing through his veins, keeping him going day after day. Memories of training and and puppies and deliciously reckless mischief.
“Mycroft,” Harry greeted, standing up from his desk. He smoothed the front of his jacket down, providing Mycroft with a microscopic smile.
“Harry,” Mycroft returned. He cocked an eyebrow and gestured his hand in a sweeping motion. Harry sat back down, crossing his legs and leaning back.
“I see you haven't changed much,” Mycroft commented idly, inspecting a bookshelf in the corner of the room. Harry slowly removed his glasses from his face and set them on the desk.
“I assume you're here to officiate my taking the throne?” Harry watched Mycroft carefully. Mycroft turned to face Harry once again, hands clasping his umbrella behind his back and a suspiciously innocent look softening his features.
“Ah, yes. That. I must say, congratulations are in order.” Mycroft shifted so that the umbrella was beside him. “I always knew you would make your way to the top.”
At that, Harry chuckled.
“Thank you. And I must commend you on your recent work in Spain. Very… efficient.”
“Speaking of efficiency,” Mycroft started, “I believe we should get this paperwork over with.” He punctuated his statement by moving forward and gracefully dropping a folder on Harry's desk, careful not to disturb the pre-existing piles of papers.
Harry leaned forward and took the folder, opening it and flipping through the various forms and reports. He sighed heavily. More bloody paperwork. It never seemed to end. He grabbed a pen and began to skim over the top page.
“I'm glad to hear that you've made way in-” Mycroft cleared this throat, a smirk playing at his lips “-settling in the new agents. Or agent, shall I say.”
Harry looked up from the paperwork with narrowed eyes. There was no use in beating around the bush.
“Don't be bitter because I’ve a boy and you don't, Mr. Holmes,” he sassed. Mycroft straightened and his grip on the umbrella he was leaning on tightened.
“You're most certainly right in the respect that I don’t have a boy. I have found myself a man, though.” Mycroft’s pressed his lips into a thin line and huffed a breath out through his nose. Harry raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, hush, Mycroft. He’s very much an adult, and if you saw him you’d-”
Speak of the devil, Harry thought as he watched Eggsy stroll through the (open, thanks Mycroft) doorway to his office, a grin pulling at his lips. Mycroft turned where he was standing to face Eggsy, cocking an eyebrow as he got a good look at the boy. Eggsy’s grin faltered as he took in the sight of the sharp man, and he turned to Harry.
“Am I interruptin’ somethin’?” Eggsy asked carefully, taking a step back towards the doorway. Harry stood from his desk and walked around it until he was practically standing on Eggsy’s heels.
“Not at all. Galahad, this is Agent Excalibur.” Harry faced Mycroft with a carefully crafted smile and Eggsy’s eyes widened.
Mycroft took a step forward and extended his hand. “Delighted,” he stated simply. Eggsy, out of habit, took Mycroft’s hand it shook it.
“Uh, yeah. Pleasure’s mine, bruv.” Eggsy took a step back and ended up backing into Harry, who placed his hand on the small of Eggsy’s back. Tension visibly dissipated from Eggsy’s shoulders.
Mycroft let out an amused little scoff. “You can drop the formalities. I’m an old friend of the agency’s.” Harry huffed a laugh from behind Eggsy.
“Mycroft, Merlin, and I were all picked from the same batch of recruits. It was the most agents ever made from one litter,” Harry explained, and he and Mycroft exchanged a knowing smile.
“Mycroft?” Eggsy blurted after a moment of silence. “Your parents must really hate you.”
“It’s a family name,” Mycroft explained, smiling. “And it’s not the worst, I assure you. My brother is called Sherlock.” Eggsy laughed at that, but it was cut short as realization dawned on his features.
“Wait, Sherlock, as in the detective bloke?”
Mycroft chuckled. “Yes, that would be him.”
“Eggsy’s quite a fan of Doctor Watson’s blog,” Harry chimed in.
“Oh, as am I,” Mycroft conceded, and there was mischief glinting in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off as his phone began to ring in his pocket. He pulled it out, checked the caller ID, and politely excused himself to walk across the room and answer the call. Eggsy turned to face Harry, who wrapped his arms around Eggsy’s waist.
“He ain’t your type at all,” Eggsy teased, his voice quiet. He reached up and snaked his arms under Harry’s, gripping Harry’s shoulders from behind. Harry sighed. Of course his boy would pick up on it.
“But he is yours,” Harry quipped.
“Don’t try to avoid it, Haz,” Eggsy scolded, but his voice was still light. Harry sighed resignedly through his nose.
“It was twenty years ago and I was quite a different man then, as was he. We were together, then we weren’t. Now we have a rather agreeable working relationship. Nothing to worry about.”
“Oh, I ain’t got nothin’ to worry about. He’s obviously got someone else now,” Eggsy said with a smirk
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Is that right?”
“Did you see his face when he checked who was callin’ him?” Eggsy looked over his shoulder to see Mycroft rubbing his hand over his face, his cheeks pink. Harry just laughed.
“I guess you’re right. You could rival a Holmes, darling.” Harry pressed a gentle kiss to Eggsy’s hairline, then turned his attention back to Mycroft just as he was returning his phone to his pocket.
“My apologies. I must be on my way, but we should continue this another day.” Mycroft fixed his grip on his umbrella and walked forward to shake Eggsy’s hand once again. “I sincerely hope to see you again, hopefully in a more casual setting.” Once he’d let go of Eggsy’s hand, he turned to look at Harry. “And you, you better have that paperwork done in a timely fashion or you shall be dealing with Anthea’s wrath.”
“I learned my lesson the last time, I assure you.” Harry smiled fondly and placed a hand on Mycroft’s shoulder. “I shall see you soon, then.”
With that, Mycroft nodded and walked from the room without so much as a look over his shoulder.
“Odd bloke,” Eggsy commented as he made his way to an armchair across from Harry’s desk. He fell into it, smiling up at Harry. The older man hummed in agreement. They fell into a few moments of comfortable silence before Eggsy opened his mouth again.
“So,” he started, grinning like a proper Cheshire Cat, “which one of you topped?”
Harry simply gave him a look before he turned back to his paperwork.