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“So,” Eggsy said one day when he was helping Harry towel dry his hair after a shower, “that thing you said about being totally honest with each other about our past and secrets.”
“Yeah?” Harry said, not looking up from under the fluffy white cloth.
“Well, I really appreciate your effort, especially when you list the many ways-”
“57.”
“57 ways,” Eggsy chuckled and corrected, “you’ve devised to murder the previous Arthur and how much a fan of Miranda you are.”
“I’ve always fancied myself a life like hers. Come to think of it, she married her Gary. And I married mine.”
Eggsy couldn’t see it but he was partial to the idea that Harry was smiling when he said the last “I married mine”. His voice was outrageously soft, like down feather running lightly on sensitive skin. It was usually the kind of thing that deserved a kiss from his husband, and Eggsy, being Harry’s proud husband, pressed one on Harry’s nose.
“Anyway,” Eggsy breathed out, regrouping and gathering his courage for the reveal, “I reckon it’s my turn to tell you mine.”
With his hands still holding the towel around Harry’s neck, Eggsy sat down on the bed to be on the same eye level as Harry’s who was combing back the unruly locks covering his forehead. When he was done, his hands came down to hold Eggsy’s, the sight of their hands together like a safe shelter for Eggsy’s heart.
He inhaled deeply, said, “My Mum’s a vampire and there used to be a dungeon in our old house.”
“I mean, my father is human, as you know, so I’m kinda a hybrid. I’m not afraid of garlic or sunlight, but that’s obvious enough, considering how we’ve been living together for years now. And I didn’t set foot in that torture chamber, sorry, ‘dungeon’ for more than three times during my teen years. It was more of an inheritance which just went out of style because my Mum became a vegan after meeting Da-”
Eggsy’s lungs were being drained of air when Harry’s hand came up to cover his mouth.
After a beat of their involuntary staring, Harry said, “I know.”
“I gathered, after the sixth time your eyes glowed red as a result of licking my blood when I had a cut slicing cucumber or when I was injured, that you weren’t entirely human.”
It was simultaneously calming and arousing for Eggsy to be hearing Harry’s strange recount of his deductions in the next five minutes, how closely he had been noticing every tiny odd behaviour Eggsy was exhibiting as well as trying to let Eggsy have his own privacy on the matter.
“I let you suck my neck, sorry, drink my blood last year when you were gravely wounded by that silver bullet. You didn’t remember, of course, because apparently ‘the blood of one’s beloved is the world’s most powerful cure and aphrodisiac for a vampire’.”
“That was why I didn’t let you leave the bedroom for the whole week?” Eggsy said, flabbergasted.
Harry blushed a little, clearly recalling the chain of events which led to their vigorous six days and five nights in bed. And the reason for their broken bed and limp. Merlin wouldn’t stop shooting him dirty looks at work because Harry forgot to turn off their glasses the entire time.
Harry coughed, eyes glued to their interwoven fingers, and said, “That was why you were able to heal yourself in such a short time.”
Eggsy sighed in relief, an immensely heavy weight just rolled off his chest.
“So you’re OK with all of this?” He asked later, much much later, after at least two hours of some light tasting of Harry’s sweet blood and making good use of it, head nuzzling into the crook of Harry’s neck.
Harry laughed, “Eggsy, we’ve been married for two years.”
“One year and ten months, give or take a couple of days. But seriously, are you?”
“I have access to all kinds of silver weapons and can take you down in seven minutes flat, enhanced by blood or not, despite my knowledge of your torture chamber.”
Eggsy said, unhappy by the term for its bloody implications, “Dungeon.”
“Not a dungeon if the tools in it could give a man hell for the next ten years.”
“Exactly how much do you know about my family and our supposed secrets.”
“Go to sleep, Eggsy,” Harry whispered, voice filled with exhaustion. Eggsy felt a little bit guilty for working him too hard tonight.
And Eggsy was slowly falling asleep when a thought suddenly occurred to him.
“Harry! Harry! Us vampires can’t get married unless our partner is accepted by every member in our coven. Did you propose to me after meeting all sixty-five people?”
But he soon gave up, getting no response from Harry after several attempts of waking him up, and wiggled back to his previous big spoon position behind Harry.
Tomorrow, Eggsy thought, closing his eyes, I’ll ask Mum tomorrow. She’ll definitely tell me.