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If someone asked him what his favourite part about Harry's body was, Eggsy would have to answer his hands. Not that he didn't appreciate Harry's slim but powerful form clad in bespoke suits, or when his hair was all fluffy and curly in the mornings, or his piercing brown eyes that always turned warm when he looked at Eggsy, even when he was mad at him. But his hands were...something different. Strong and deadly, gun calloused and trained to kill even without weapons, but careful and loving when he reached for Eggsy. Every time Harry ran gentle fingers down his spine or caressed his cheeks a shiver ran down Eggsy's whole body and he would do anything Harry asked of him, if he wouldn't stop touching him in return. Eggsy just loved Harry's touches.
There were the sexual touches, of course, when rough skin would roam over his naked body, making him shiver and moan beneath Harry, nimble fingers making him beg for it in seconds without even undressing him, or grabbing his hair and scratching his scalp when Eggsy was kneeling for Harry.
But what Eggsy probably loved even more were the innocent touches. Little butterflies bounced in his stomach when ever Harry slipped his fingers between Eggsy's and held his hand, be it in public when they were taking a walk or when they were just sitting in the living room and watching a cheesy movie. Or when Eggsy lay his head in Harry's lap on lazy Sunday afternoons, and Harry started to comb his fingers through Eggsy's hair and along his neck, until they touched the edge of his shirt's collar and then back up. Those were the touches Eggsy appreciated the most.
With his Mum slowly slipping more and more into depression after his Dad died and with Dean as his stepdad there hadn't been many gentle touches for Eggsy in his early years. First his Mum seemed like she would never stop touching him, hugging him close and kissing him, but gradually the touches became less. Then Dean moved in and touches became more frequent again - only this time the only touches he got were fists to his face or hands grabbing his hair violently and throwing him out of the flat. Soon Eggsy had learned touches weren't good. He first started to appreciate them again when he became a teenager, when he was fifteen and a girl shoved her hand down his pants for the first time. Then, good touches were only sexual ones, and everything else either didn't exist or were bad touches.
And then Harry came.
Wonderful Harry, full of love to give to Eggsy. The first time Harry tried to touch his face he flinched back, his reflexes shouting at him to get the fuck out of there before he got himself a black eye. He would never forget the hurt look on Harry's face before he started a new try to lay his hand on Eggsy's cheek. Not hurt because Eggsy's reaction hurt him. Hurt, because he knew why Eggsy reacted the way he did. Hurt, because he knew what that meant, what it said about Eggsy's experiences. Hurt, because he hadn't helped him sooner.
Which was bullshit, Eggsy told him later, it was in no way Harry's fault. But Harry still made it his most important mission to make Eggsy appreciate gentle touches again, without his first instinct to be flight.
And it worked. Oh boy, did it work.
Now there was nothing Eggsy craved more than Harry's hands on him. If he had to decide between food after being starved for days or Harry's hand on his cheek, carefully thumbing along the line of his lips, he would probably choose the latter one. It was insane.
But the worst part was, Eggsy had no idea how to ask for it. He never had to, after all. It wouldn't have gotten him anything except "Later, Babe"s or insults from Dean. And now that he could have it all, he was too stupid to demand it, even though he knew Harry would always deliver. He was ashamed to ask. He knew it was dumb, but he couldn't help it. He would never get out anything more than little whines, or nudge Harry's side on the sofa until he put his book down, looked at Eggsy with a warm smile and lifted one arm as an invitation for Eggsy to snuggle up to him and receive the much wanted affections.
He brooded over this often, and he knew Harry knew something was off. That's why it was no surprise to him when one afternoon, when Harry was sitting on the sofa and Eggsy on the far other end, his arms slung around his own legs and annoyed by his own inability to just ask for what he wanted, Harry put his paper and reading glasses down with a deep sigh and looked over at him.
"Eggsy, something is bothering you. Why don't you just tell me what it is, instead of sitting over there and sulking?"
Eggsy pulled his legs a bit closer to his body and pointedly didn't look at Harry. "Nuffin's wrong," he said, but Harry didn't buy it. He wasn't a spy for nothing after all.
"We both know that's a lie. Is it something I did?"
Eggsy shook his head.
"Well, is it something someone else did, then?"
Another shake of his head.
"Is it still about that mission in Nigeria? Eggsy, I told you it wasn't your fault-"
"No," Eggsy interrupted and shook his head again, "Ain't nuffin' like that."
"Then what is it, Darling? If you talk to me I might be able to help," Harry started to sound a bit frustrated, and Eggsy understood him completely. He was frustrated about it himself.
But what good would it do to frustrate both of them? All it would do was making Harry touch him less because he was annoyed, and that was the last thing Eggsy wanted to achieve.
He chewed on his bottom lip nervously, internally arguing with himself. How could it be so hard to talk about this kind of thing? He was a spy, for Christ's sake, he had certainly done harder things than telling his boyfriend he wanted to cuddle.
Just think of it as a mission, he told himself, on a mission you can't not do something just because you don't like it.
He could feel Harry's eyes burn a hole into the side of his head as he stared at him, waiting for Eggsy to tell him what was wrong. Well, there really wasn't a way around it now anyway, was there? Harry wouldn't leave him alone until he knew what was wrong.
"I want a hug," he suddenly blurted out, surprising himself with it and immediately blushing bright red.
Oh God, he was such an idiot.
"A...hug?" Harry asked puzzled. Eggsy buried his face in his knees, but gave a small nod. "Yeah. A hug."
"Well... You shall get one, then," Harry said and shuffled closer to him on the settee. Soon Eggsy felt Harry's arms settling around his waist, pulling him a bit closer and a few moments later Eggsy leaned against Harry's side, his head rested against his chest but his arms still slung around his own legs.
There were a few minutes of silence, until Harry asked: "Might I ask why you were so angry, if all you wanted was a simple hug?"
"Cos..." Eggsy started. But how do you finish a sentence like that? How could you possibly explain the problem, if you were too afraid to ask for a single hug to begin with?
"Cos....I can't ask for it," he said after a while.
"But you just did," Harry was clearly confused by all of this.
"Yeah, but...I can't. It's embarrassin'. I never ask, cos I can't. I just want ya ta hug me 'n hold me 'n hold my stupid hand but I can never make myself ask 'n it's fuckin' frustratin', all I can do is whine like a stupid idiot or shove my fuckin' foot against yer thigh until ya get the hint but I never fuckin' ask," he was babbling now, he knew that, but he didn't care, as long as he would finally get it out. He turned redder with every word he said and when he was finished, he hid his face in Harry's jumper. God, this was even more embarrassing.
A heavy silence stretched over them once Eggsy stopped talking and it made him even more uncomfortable. He squirmed a bit in Harry's arm because he felt like an idiot. Who was embarrassed by asking his boyfriend for a hug anyway? Harry had to think he was a moron.
Suddenly Harry's arms around him tightened and a gentle kiss was pressed to the top of his head.
"Oh, my darling boy," Harry mumbled into his hair, "Is that what had you upset all day? Please don't feel frustrated about that. There is no need for you to voice your wishes."
Confused Eggsy lifted his head a bit, but didn't quite look at Harry yet.
"After all I understand what you need, even if you don't say it out loud. If you don't feel comfortable telling me, this is more than enough."
"But it's stupid," Eggsy said, but Harry shook his head.
"In fact, I think your little whines and nudges are very endearing," a gentle hand skimmed across Eggsy's back and he could feel his muscles relax, "Please don't push yourself to do things you don't feel comfortable with, Darling. I'm sorry if you had the impression your small signs and hints weren't enough, I promise I will try to be more attentive in the future."
Eggsy couldn't believe how lucky he was.
It still bothered him that he couldn't just tell Harry what he wanted, but he was sure one day he would manage. Until then, he would keep on whining in the back of his throat or nudging Harry's leg, and his boyfriend would lift his arm and invite him to snuggle up to him every time.