Work Text:
Harry’s phone rang. Or bubbled. Bubbled was probably the best way to describe the sound it made when someone – Eggsy, always Eggsy – called him on Facetime. He picked up the call without actually picking up the phone, instead he kept on studying the blueprint of the new hangar they we’re planning to build outside of London.
“Eggsy.”
“Hello, Harry.”
Harry glanced at his phone as Eggsy’s face appeared. He was clearly calling from his office at Stockholm Place – Harry recognised the tapestry on the wall behind him.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Your Highness?”
“Pick me up, Harry. I don’t want to look at the ceiling.”
“Certainly, Your Highness.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Harry picked up the mobile and propped it up against the computer screen on his desk. Eggsy grinned at him.
“Thanks.”
“Good to see you.”
“You too.” Eggsy frowned. “You look tired. Are you sleeping okay?”
“Yes, mother.”
Eggsy rolled his eyes.
“What do you want, Eggsy?”
“I’ve done this interview…”
“All right.”
Eggsy chewed on his lip. He was so clearly hesitating and building up to something that Harry almost picked up the mobile. He didn’t know how that would help anything, but instinctively he wanted to hold Eggsy in his hand. Instead, he reached for pen and paper to start taking notes. Harry hadn’t told Eggsy, but around the time Eggsy and Tilde’s engagement was announced, he had drawn up a couple of contingency plans for what to do if Eggsy let something slip during an interview that would jeopardise Kingsman or if anyone would find about the agency while digging through Eggsy’s past.
“It’s for a gay magazine,” Eggsy finally continued. “They’ve been calling the press office once a week since I said I was bi, so I thought better be done with it, you know. They clearly wouldn’t give up.”
Harry nodded, wondering how on earth Eggsy had managed to say something damaging about Kingsman while talking to a gay magazine.
“It’s in Swedish and, um, I don’t think they have any international readership. Perhaps in Germany? For some reason they are obsessed with us there. And moose. They steal the road signs with moose on, Harry. I’m not even kidding.”
Harry sigh. “Eggsy, the interview?”
“Yes. Right.” Eggsy took deep breath. “I said things in this interview that… that you should probably know before it’s released.”
“Like…?”
“Like… like…” Eggsy shook his head and looked away from his phone. Harry was genuinely worried by the time Eggsy looked back at him. “Fuck. Harry. You’re the reason I came out. Or… the reason I realised I had something to come out about.”
Harry stared at him. “Eggsy… I…”
Eggsy’s ears were bright red. “You don’t have to say nothing. I don’t mention you by name or anything, but if you’d read it, you’d know so… Yeah. I thought I should to tell you myself.”
“Eggsy…” Harry shook his head, the shock making it hard for him to process this and to form proper sentences. “I’m old enough to be your dad.”
“Look, I’m not…” Eggsy stopped, paused and started over. “I’m not saying that I… Or that I— I mean. I’m not saying I’m in love with you or anything. I just… Fuck. Have you seen yourself?”
Harry smiled, not quite knowing what to make of that last comment. He finally reached out and took the phone in his hand. “You’re still full of surprises.”
“Yeah, well,” Eggsy mumbled, forcing a smile that became more natural by the second. ”Now you know.”
“Yes… Out of curiosity, do you have a copy of the article?”
“Yeah, they sent a copy over to the press office to get me to ‘okay’ it. One sec…” Eggsy disappeared from view and shortly after the camera was flipped, showing the front page of a magazine. On it was Eggsy, wearing a very familiar suit and pair of glasses. His armour indeed.
“Here we go,” Eggsy mumbled off screen. He started to flip through the magazine and landed on a big spread. There was a photo of Eggsy sitting on a barstool, the glasses in his hands now, smiling. It was a good picture of him.
“It’s in Swedish, so… well,” said Eggsy after a moment, flipping the screen back so that Harry saw his face. He was quite red now. “I’m not translating it for you.”
“Well, there’s always your wife.”
“Ha ha.”
Harry smiled. “Thank you for telling me this.”
“Things won’t be weird now, will they?”
“Weirder than a spy being married to a princess?”
In spite of himself and his worry to have just messed up their friendship, Eggsy rolled his eyes at Harry. It was nice to see. That was his confident, cocky butterfly.
(Harry often wondered what Eggsy would do if he ever found out that he thought about him that way sometimes. After this conversation, Harry vowed to never ever tell him.)
“It’s fine, Eggsy, don’t worry,” said Harry. “I’m glad you told me and that you felt like you could.”
“Sort of screwed myself out of a choice with this interview, but yeah…” Eggsy shrugged, smiling. “Thank you for being someone I could tell, or something.”
“Always.”
After a short, but close-to-awkward silence, Harry almost asked for a copy of the magazine, but thought that it would perhaps be better if he bought it himself – there had to be an online store. Instead they said their good-byes and Eggsy disappeared from the screen.
Harry put down the phone, leaning back in the chair. That was unexpected to say the least. Eggsy had told him he was bisexual last year, shortly before his engagement to Tilde had been announced. They had just moved Harry into his new place and got properly drunk on Statesman whiskey. Harry was surprised that there were things Eggsy had managed to not tell him that night, seeing how – among other things – he’d got to hear the real (and very unofficial) story of how Eggsy and Tilde first met.
He got up and went to the kitchen to make some tea, a smile teasing in the corner of his mouth. He didn’t know what to make of what Eggsy had told him, but a strange feeling that he couldn’t put words to, warmed his chest. It was a good feeling.
“He’s an extraordinary boy,” Harry told his dog who had followed him to the kitchen. “Though I’m not sure about his taste in men.”
His dog just wagged its tail. Harry took that as a sign of agreement and put the kettle on.
