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“People are staring,” Harry said when he leaned down to whisper in Eggsy’s ear.
Adjusting his hold on Harry’s waist, Eggsy’s lips spread into an easy smile, “So? What’s wrong with that?”
They were standing barely a foot apart, moving along to Frank Sinatra’s The Way You Look Tonight in careful, measured steps. The lack of personal space meant Harry was seated on the front seat for a full showing of his friend’s infamous lady-killing confidence, and after tonight, probably just fatal for everyone from all genders.
“What’s wrong, you ask? Everything!” Harry said, jerking his head back. “This thing,” he lifted his hand on Eggsy’s shoulder and waved vaguely between them, hitting Eggsy’s velvet lapel in the process, “that you’re doing. It’s upended every aspect of balance in our school! Jocks don’t hang out with debate team members.”
Eggsy reached out a hand to retrieve Harry’s back and place it on where he thought he belonged before correcting him, “Not a member. Captain.”
The frown on Harry’s face deepened. “Don’t try to change the subject. You know what you did when you slammed the door to my house and asked my father if you could take me to prom.”
“A spontaneous decision, I assure you,” Eggsy tried as he raised their hands and gently spun Harry in a small circle. Naturally, his friend went along as if their argument and the dancing were two very different matters.
“Lies. How else can he produce my tux that fast without you two conspiring behind my back?” Harry said when they were back to slowly swaying face to face.
“Fine, you got me, Captain. It was a slightly prepared spur of the moment decision.” Eggsy tilted his head, affecting innocence, but the teasing twinkles in his eyes betrayed him as always.
“Don’t be coy,” Harry sighed. “I should’ve never let you guys meet. A grave mistake on my part to be frank.”
Fighting the urge to throw his head back and laugh, because that was how Eggsy reacted to every time Harry brought out his melancholic tone. The one Harry brought out whenever he was about to give up and just wanted to added a tiny dash of dramatic flair.
“Harry,” Eggsy began, “your house has been right next to mine for more than a decade. Your dad and I are bound to meet whether you want it or not. We have Saturday tea time and discuss about your well-being, you know?”
He smoothed his hand up Harry’s back and down again, in soothing motions, placating his partner like one would when one’s most adored person was in distress.
Ever the swifter person on the uptake, Harry immediately looked up at Eggsy with sharp, narrow eyes.
“But why do you have to take me as your dance mate?”
“Prom date.” Eggsy couldn’t have him steer their metaphorical boat of budding romance to the iceberg tonight.
“That’s technically incorrect, despite the context,” Harry pointed out. “We have to be involved romantically or as the kids are putting it, doing it on the DL, to be dates.“
“Well,” grinned Eggsy, who had been waiting patiently for this since he first came up with the ingenious idea weeks ago, “I’m glad you asked.” And removed his hand on the small of Harry’s back, a small loss, to tug at Harry’s lapel, burgundy to match his skin tone, and pulled the other boy close.
Standing on tip toes, Eggsy eradicated all manner of personal space and laid a brief kiss on Harry’s cheek. He would love to prolong their contact, or even change to the other, more interesting place on Harry’s face to land a smooch, but-
“What was that?” Harry cut in.
“Your IQ is over 140, you tell me.”
“This is neither the time nor place to joke, Gary Unwin.”
Oh, oh no. Eggsy’s face was drained of blood, he stepped back and cleared his throat. It seemed pretty clear that was a blunt rejection no matter how one heard it.
“Um, that was, probably a poor attempt at telling you that I like you, Harry. And that like is a lot different than how normal friends who like each other,” he spilled out in a rush, just in case Harry might run away in the middle of his confession.
“So, you mean,” Harry said and made to grab Eggsy’s retreating hands, “that you don’t want us to be friends anymore?”
“Uh, I think you just missed the mark, like two hundred miles away actually. I meant, that I wish to still be friends but also your boyfriend if you’re fine with that. And I know that it might not be what you want at all considering the way you’re staring at me so I’ll just call Ro-”
Eggsy’s soon-to-be tragic rambling was wisely interrupted mid-way by Harry, whose quick wit obviously deduced that there was a better way to solve all of this problem. And the answer was a kiss, right on Eggsy’s lips. The first he had ever had.
Groaning, Eggsy pushed in deeper and asked, “Now what is this?”
Not moving away one bit, Harry said, “This is how you’re supposed to do it. Not,” he nipped at Eggsy’s upper lip, “a goddamn cheek kiss.”
“I thought that’d be cute,” Eggsy protested, hands cupping Harry’s jaw and disturbing the gelled hair, “and besides, there’s that thing with consent and being respectful.”
“Well, I give you, Eggsy, my consent, to be my friend and boyfriend.” And Eggsy could hardly make out what Harry was saying except for the important words because his whole being was busy hanging on the way Harry’s lips kept brushing at his.
“Seems like you’re in a rush,” Eggsy joked, but it came out as a gasp instead. What they were doing would indeed draw even more attention, and he could give a rat’s ass about that. Because who cared about anyone else when his Harry was right here in front of him?
“Try crushing on your best friend for two years and see how that would get you.”
“I promise, Harry,” Eggsy said between kisses, “that I’ll endeavour to make up for all of it.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Harry said, and pulled back to take Eggsy’s hand, a slight tremulous tick gave away his nerves.
“People are staring,” Eggsy said with a small smile. “Afraid the school’s balance has been tipped.”
Harry gave Eggsy’s hand a squeeze that conveyed he was, truly and completely, fine and sure about them.
“Perhaps this would shut them up once and for all.” And he dove back in to kiss Eggsy again as the song came to an end.
It turned out that Harry was wrong after all, because people never did stop telling the tale of the two captains, and how half of the seniors lost their bet in the school-wide pool that night.