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you taste like the fourth of july

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The first time it happens it's a mistake. Eggsy doesn't mean for it to slip out, but in the heat of the moment, a remnant of his dirtiest fantasies just comes right on out of his mouth, easy as you please.

He's flat on his back on Harry's stupidly huge bed, and Harry's got him halfway underneath him, one elegant, long-fingered hand spread wide and possessive over the meat of Eggsy's hip as Harry fucks his cock into his hole, sloppy and soaked from what had felt like a torturous eternity of Harry's fingers and tongue. He's never said so but Eggsy knows Harry likes to hold him down, make him spread his legs as far as he can to accommodate Harry's broader, taller frame, until it hurts a little, the stretch just the slightest bit uncomfortable. He'd never say anything so uncouth. He's always so good to Eggsy, so protective and caring, and he's so sweet, and his cock is so fucking deep inside him, and Eggsy just—

"Daddy," he moans, his voice catching on the title, and goddamn, it's so fucking dirty.

What's shocking is the way Harry curses in a strangled voice, elegant façade completely undone, and hunches over like he's been socked in the gut. He fumbles (and Eggsy's never, ever seen him fumble before. With anything. Ever.) to get a hand around the base of his dick but he doesn't get there in time and then he's coming, halfway inside him and pulsing hot spunk into him, and Eggsy fucking keens. It's the first time they've fucked without a condom and the feeling of it, Harry's fucking jizz inside him, drooling warm and wet down his thighs, is just so fucking—

And this is when Eggsy comes. Harry watches him arching under him, his pupils blown wide as Eggsy shakes apart, bitten pink lips hanging open as he fucking mewls—

"Shit," Eggsy says breathlessly, some minutes later. His thighs are still wracked with minute tremors, and Harry's come is fucking dripping out of his most intimate place. He whines helplessly at the thought of it and can't hold back the shiver that runs through his body.

 

////

 

Harry's staring at him, unblinking.

"You called me—" he can't say it. The word sticks in his dry throat.

"Yeah," Eggsy mutters nervously, now chewing on that abused bottom lip, and Harry wants to bite it, so he leans down and does.

It's a while before he's capable of coherent thought again, lost in the slick heat of this lovely boy's mouth, that sharp, acerbic tongue so soft when he kisses him.

"Is that—?" Eggsy asks, fidgeting, and Harry realizes he's been gazing at his mouth for several minutes. He can't imagine what his face looks like.

"Yes, yes," he says. "Darling...my dearest, sweet boy."

He watches Eggsy's pupils dilate and his lashes flutter, skimming his flushed cheek butterfly-soft. Eggsy squirms a little under him, thighs rubbing together in the wet spot of slick and come, and Harry inhales sharply, barely catching the tiny whimper that escapes the boy's throat.

"Do you like that, darling boy?" Harry asks him, and he hardly recognizes his own voice, so low has it dropped. Eggsy seems to respond to the gravelly tone, arching just the tiniest bit as he watches Harry intently, his eyes wide and fixed on him, that sweet bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"You're going to be such a good boy for me, aren't you," Harry says, head buzzing, and he doesn't have any idea what he's saying anymore but he hasn't seen Eggsy look so stunned and flushed since the first time Harry crowded him up against the wall and kissed him, soft and vulnerable under him, and Harry just—he wants to take care of him, shield him from the awful fucking world and never allow him to be hurt. Unless—he's finally admitting to himself what he couldn't bring himself to for so long, because he does, he wants to hurt Eggsy. Not a lot, not so that it makes a difference. Just enough.

Harry doesn't know what enough is but he thinks, judging from the way Eggsy is looking at him, that he might find out.

"Yeah," Eggsy says, voice cracking. He bites his lip. "Yes, Harry."

Harry gazes down at him, eyes moving slowly over his pretty face, his fucking gorgeous green eyes, dark and dazed at the present.

He opens his mouth. Pauses. What the hell, just fucking go for it. "Yes what, darling?"

Eggsy pants a little, wriggles under him. Harry pins him down, and Eggsy lets him, instantly going boneless underneath him, and fuck, Harry's come is still inside him and that combined with his boy's perfect, pliant sweetness makes it feel like he's Harry's, and it's bloody intoxicating. Like he could ask Eggsy for anything and he wouldn't say no, would just look up at Harry sweetly through his lashes in that lovely way of his, and take whatever Harry gave him.

Eggsy licks his lips. Harry shamelessly follows with his eyes the pretty pink sweep of his tongue across that much-coveted bottom lip.

"Yes, daddy," he says, voice shaking. "I'll be a good boy for you."

And just like that, Harry's getting hard again. He's never allowed himself to acknowledge his lowest, basest desires, just buried them deep in his mind and moved on. It isn't as if he's ever had the time or inclination for pursuits of the romantic sort before...before Eggsy came along, all smart mouth and vulnerable eyes that he tried so hard to hide behind squared shoulders and an insouciantly tilted chin, and Harry had been helpless to deny him anything: and here Eggsy is, handing him his most tightly locked away fantasy on a fucking platter, soft and pliant and fucking perfect for him.

He's never loved anyone more in his life.

"Fucking hell, Eggsy," he says, knocked breathless, and Eggsy, sweet and gorgeous, gives a little keen, wriggling against Harry's rapidly filling cock as his own begins to plump up.

"Please, daddy," he whispers, and the sound goes straight to the most animal parts of Harry's brain. The parts that urge him to hold, fuck, keep. Protect.

"I need..." Eggsy pants, moving restlessly under him. Harry grabs his wrist, holds it down firmly against the mattress. Eggsy moans, arching against his chest. "I need more, want it, want your come inside me—"

"Fuck," Harry snarls, shoving him down into the mattress, fingers tightening around his wrist until he can feel the bones grate, and Eggsy gives that high, needy keen again, the one that makes him want to—want to—

"Gorgeous, perfect boy," he rasps, ducking his head down and eating at his pink fucking lips. He slides a hand down in between those silky soft thighs and dips a finger inside, just to the first knuckle, but Eggsy moans like he's fucking fisting him. And...that—that is something to tuck away and think about later, in great detail.

Inside Eggsy is hot and so, so wet, slick and puffy hole full with Harry's come, and the space between them is filled with the most fucking obscene sounds as Harry plunges two fingers inside him, curling and stroking and just fucking reveling in the tangible mark of himself inside his sweet boy.

"Daddy, daddy," Eggsy pants out, sounding like he's fucking dying, and Harry hisses out a breath, twisting a third finger deep inside as Eggsy whines and arches, spine curving off the sheets in the most perfect line. Even in this filthiest of scenarios, Harry can't help but think that Christ, he wants to cherish this boy forever, spoil him with all the things he's never been given, put him on a fucking pedestal, write him a bloody sonnet if Eggsy'd let him. Harry knows he won't.

"Tell me what you need, darling," Harry mouths against his sweat-slick throat, sucking a dark bruise onto his lily-white skin. "Let me give it to you."

Eggsy pants, a flush of brilliant pink splashed high on his cheekbones.

"Fuck me," he whines, voice breaking, and Harry groans into his jaw, burying his nose in the sweet spot behind his ear, nuzzling and unable to resist leaving a faint mark behind, teeth scraping skin, listening to his cries of desperation. "Gimme your cock, please, fucking put it in."

Harry wrenches his fingers out of him and shoves his cock deep inside in their place, a guttural sound punching its way out of him. He sinks in as far as he can go, and stays there, and Eggsy fucking wails, squirming underneath him and he snarls, putting a hand around Eggsy's neck and holding him down by the throat. And he just takes it, tilts his head back, lets Harry choke him, long, thick eyelashes fluttering beautifully as he moans and moans.

"Gorgeous fucking tart," Harry grates out, rolling his hips against his boy's pelvis. "So perfect for me, Eggsy, so fucking good for me—"

Eggsy lets out the tiniest whine, throat working under Harry's hand as he swallows convulsively, and Harry releases him, allowing him to twine his arms around the older man. He scoops Eggsy up, sitting up and falling back onto his haunches, Eggsy's trembling thighs spread wide over his lap. He curls inward against Harry, emitting a needy little sob, and Harry shushes him gently, cradling him in his arms and kissing the curve where neck meets shoulder, soft; sucking little marks around the lovely dark mole on his throat.

"Harry," Eggsy whispers tearfully, his heart in his throat, and Harry kisses his neck again, nuzzling his skin. His gorgeous, lovely boy. Eggsy is so soft, vicious and glorious Kingsman outside but here, here he is only Harry's and Harry wants to bury himself in his sweetness, drown in the taste of his skin.

"I know, sweetheart. I know," he croons, nudging his cock inside of him. Eggsy lets out the most gorgeous sound, somewhere between a sob and a keen, and Harry has to stop for a moment so he doesn't blow his fucking load two minutes in. Eggsy is so wet around his cock, and he knows it's because he's fucking his own come deeper inside, and that thought should not affect him nearly as much as it does.

"Darling," Harry says, and then his brain goes offline for a moment when Eggsy squirms on his cock; slick, hot hole convulsing around him and he's not sure what kind of sound he makes but Eggsy whimpers and mouths wetly at Harry's shoulder, a faint hint of teeth scraping the skin. Harry sucks in a sharp breath, grabbing the back of Eggsy's neck and squeezing hard. Eggsy goes instantly limp and pliant in his arms, and fuck, is this what his lovely boy needs? Does he want Harry to hold him down, show him how to be a good boy?

"Darling," Harry says again, panting a little, mouth pressed to his gorgeous boy's hairline, nosing into the soft strands on instinct, breathing in the sweet familiar scent of shampoo and clean sweat. "Dearest, hold still—" Eggsy shivers helplessly in his arms, and Harry's grip on his nape tightens.

"I want," Harry says, and tries to grasp the swiftly escaping tendrils of his tattered self-control enough to put together a coherent sentence. "I want—"

"Yes," Eggsy breathes, hot against his neck, and when Harry looks down at him he sees the sweet pink flush on his face, the spit-slick shine of his kiss-bruised mouth. "Yeah, Harry, anything, you can have it, you can have me—"

"Eggsy," Harry says, mind gone blank and buzzing white with the swift and dizzying uprush of sheer possessive want, like vertigo, blinding and shimmering like sunspots in his eyes. "Eggsy, fuck, you perfect, gorgeous thing—"

"Yeah, daddy, fuck me," Eggsy pants, stumbling over his words all in a rush, trembling in Harry's grip; and Harry, operating on pure instinct, pushes his lovely boy down onto his back, arse balanced on Harry's thighs with Harry's cock half inside him, and yanks Eggsy down onto his cock until Eggsy lets out a sweet, shivering moan, mouth open and eyes glossy. Harry adores watching him fall into this gorgeous state of mind, adores the way it makes Eggsy's spine go soft and fluid, makes him arch catlike into Harry's hands like he can't bear not to be held.

"Is that what you want," Harry says, voice dropped a to a register it only reaches when he has this perfect boy under him, in his bed, smelling like him and marked as his. "Look at you, you lovely creature, you were made for this, weren't you, you take my cock so well—you're so good for me, darling boy—"

"Yeah," Eggsy says muzzily, hands reaching for Harry, and Harry's heart gives a hot, aching throb at the sight of him. "Wanna be good f'you."

"You are, dearest, you are, you're so good," Harry reassures him, and Eggsy arches into his touch, skin so hot and buttery soft like silk under Harry's hands. Eggsy's fingers wrap loosely around his forearms, not holding or restraining, just touching, like he needs it to be grounded. Harry wonders for the thousandth, the millionth time, what he's ever done on this earth to deserve the trust that Eggsy places in him. To deserve to touch Eggsy, to be the only one who gets to lay hands on him.

"More," Eggsy breathes, and so Harry, as incapable of denying him as ever, gives him more, pushes Eggsy's legs up against his chest, holds him there with hands gripping bruises onto the tender hollows behind his knees, and grinds his cock into Eggsy's greedy, clutching hole.

"Hold yourself open for me, darling," Harry pants against Eggsy's ankle, propped on Harry's shoulder. "Let me—let me inside."

Eggsy makes a soft, melting sound in his throat, and obeys with intoxicating swiftness, reaching down with both hands and holding his arse open for Harry, just for Harry.

"Fuck," Harry says blankly, unable to fully process the beautiful fucking sight of Eggsy's hole swallowing his cock, and Eggsy keens, face gone hot and sleepy with pleasure. He looks very young like this, Harry notes, and has to press his face against Eggsy's ankle and just breathe for a moment.

"Daddy," Eggsy says, pleading, so soft and breathless, and Harry unthinkingly opens his mouth and bites, teeth scraping over the delicate jut of bone above Eggsy's instep. His blood is rushing in his ears, vision gone too sharp and bright, focused like the pinpoint center of a corona around the gorgeous boy impaled on his cock. He's never been so aroused in his life.

Eggsy is panting now, rocking steadily onto Harry's cock, wriggling and squirming to get closer, deeper. His toes curl against Harry's shoulders, and Harry can only grip Eggsy's thighs convulsively and watch, gaze catching alternately on the fluttering of the sweet, wrecked hole grasping hotly around Harry's cock, on the shivering string of precum drooling from the slit of his straining cock, on the bitten pink of his gorgeous nipples, on the flash of white teeth scraping hard over that abused bottom lip.

"Darling boy," Harry says helplessly, voice scraped raw and tight in his chest, and watches the way Eggsy's spine bows towards the sound of Harry's voice as if pulled by a string.

"Harry," Eggsy sobs, hands grasping for him, "Harry—" and for the first time Harry notices with alarm the faint glistening trail of saltwater leading from the corner of Eggsy's eye to his temple, gravity pulling the tears down into his soft hair. His heart thuds hard, once, and slams into his throat. His boy is crying for him, and he hadn't noticed.

"Eggsy," Harry says, heartbroken, desperate to fix it, to make it better, and folds down over him, pressing him into the bed, framed by the cage of Harry's arms. Eggsy whimpers, shivering up against him, and presses his tearstained face under Harry's jaw.

"Darling, dearest, I'm sorry, have I been neglecting you?" Harry croons, pressing kisses against Eggsy's hairline, faintly damp with sweat.

"M'okay," Eggsy mumbles, nuzzling and pushing his face sweetly up to Harry's, searching for kisses. Harry grants them, covering Eggsy's mouth with his, kissing him deeply and adoringly until Eggsy is gasping for breath, Harry's cock still sitting so sweetly inside him.

"Just—" Eggsy pants, shuddering under him. "Just, want you closer."

"Of course," Harry murmurs, lifting one hand to thumb the corner of Eggsy's thoroughly kissed mouth. Eggsy turns into the possessive gesture, lets Harry's thumb slip into his mouth. "Anything you need, sweet boy." He watches Eggsy mouthing damply at his fingers from under half-closed lids.

"Will you—like this," Eggsy asks shakily, breath fanning hot against Harry's wrist, and spreads his thighs wide around Harry's waist. Harry goes with him, easing down into the horridly inviting cradle of Eggsy's hips without protest, stomach settling down to press against Eggsy's leaking cock, making his lovely boy whine hot and wet around Harry's fingers.

"Anything," Harry repeats, a promise, mind going blank as he watches Eggsy sucking on his fingers, so needy and pliant. Gorgeous, perfect creature.

"Daddy," Eggsy whines, long and drawn out, and Harry's hips jerk forward before he can think, cock already stuffed so deep inside Eggsy and pelvis grinding hard against his hole until it almost hurts. Eggsy wails, trembling and arching like he can't help himself. Harry leans down and sucks a puffy pink nipple into his mouth, listening to that sweet keening turning into hot, panting moans. Eggsy hates it and loves it when Harry plays with his nipples. He's terribly sensitive, to the point that the Kingsman-issue shirts can cause chafing after Harry's been a bit rougher than usual, making him wince when Harry inevitably gets him in his office and thumbs those sweet little nubs through his clothing, sucking fresh bruises onto the base of his throat so that everyone knows he belongs to Harry.

"Nnn," Eggsy pants, squirming under Harry's mouth. "Harry—Harry, fuck—"

"Just like that, darling," Harry says, mouthing wetly at Eggsy's chest and glancing upwards to watch his sweet boy writhe. He inhales, pressing his nose under Eggsy's breastbone and breathing in the scent of his skin. "Let me hear you, lovely boy." He puts a hand to the graceful curve where Eggsy's throat and shoulder meet and drags his cock out, pushing back in with torturous slowness, savouring the gorgeous whimpers it elicits. "Beautiful, Eggsy, my beautiful boy, dearest, darling—"

"Ffffuuuckk," Eggsy moans, throaty and slutty in the way that Harry lives for, eyelids fluttering closed, head tipping back to expose his vulnerable throat. Harry hones in on it with the single-minded focus of a predator, thumb pressing hard into the dip of Eggsy's clavicle as he leans down and closes his teeth around that tempting expanse of perfect skin.

"Nnng, fuck, Harry," Eggsy shouts, Harry's name trailing off into a stutter. "Fuck, s'good, Harry, so good, your cock—" He sounds drunk. Harry takes a shuddering breath. Eggsy is so good for him, can take his cock for as long as Harry wants him to, always begs for more. He likes it when his hole is sore and stretched, says he wants to feel Harry for days. The sight of Eggsy wincing and trying not to squirm as he sits down in the conference room at Kingsman headquarters, flushing and glancing at Harry through his lashes, is one that Harry holds particularly dear.

"You're taking me so well, darling," Harry tells him, voice low and wrecked. "So pretty with your sweet little hole stretched around my cock—" Eggsy sobs and pushes into the hand at his throat, wriggling down the last inch or so onto Harry's cock and knocking a punched-out breath from Harry's lungs; he has to push Eggsy hard down into the bed and breathe harshly through his nose for a few moments in order not to just shove himself as far inside as he can get and make Eggsy take his come. He lets out a tense, shuddering breath at the thought, nosing absently at the sensitive hollow behind Eggsy's ear and hunting for another sample of that gorgeous scent.

"Harry," Eggsy pants restlessly, a silent question hidden inside his name.

"Yes, dearest," Harry rumbles, breathing hotly against the sweet point of that beautifully sculpted jaw.

"Tell me—" Eggsy stutters, breathing turning ragged and slightly wet as he arches into the heavy weight of Harry's body. He gets like this sometimes, sweetly vulnerable, too raw and exhausted from hours of bending to Harry's will, needing Harry to reassure him.

"Please," Eggsy asks, something terribly open and wounded in his voice, and Harry will never deny him anything for as long as he lives.

"Darling boy," Harry sighs, dipping down to taste his lips. Eggsy moans under his kiss, mouth opening for him so sweetly. Harry allows himself a moment of this before he pulls away, just an inch of heated space between their lips as he whispers, "darling boy, you're so good for me. You're doing so well, sweetheart, you've given me everything I could ever ask for," and Eggsy is shuddering now, shaking under his words and his cock, stroking inside his body, so lovely and open just for Harry, "you must know, you must, how I love you so, dearest Eggsy—" Harry is panting now.

"Good boy," he hazards, and Eggsy keens, spine bending taut like a plucked string, thighs trembling around Harry's body.

"Daddy, I—I can't, I need, fuck, daddy," he pleads, breath hitching in his chest, and he's shaking so sweetly under Harry's hands, and he's so good, so good.

"Yes, darling, that's it, sweetling, there you are," Harry coaxes, soothing voice a shocking contrast to the filthy intensity with which his cock is shoving and grinding into Eggsy's helplessly fluttering hole, so dizzyingly hot and wet around him, "such a good boy for me, come on, that's it, it's all right, come for me—"

Eggsy comes almost silently, mouth hanging open and wet, cock untouched and jerking spasmodically where it's crushed between them, hole gripping vice-tight around Harry's cock, making Harry drop onto his elbows, forehead pressed to Eggsy's temple, panting wetly against the side of his face. He curses, unable to stop the way his hips flex hard into Eggsy's arse, cock milked mercilessly and so, so sweetly.

"Eggsy," Harry groans, "Eggsy, fuck—"

"Harry," Eggsy whines, arching uncontrollably, "Harry, c'mon, don't make me wait, daddy give it to me—"

Harry chokes on something, a word, whether a curse or a benediction he couldn't say, and gives Eggsy what he wants. Eggsy pants, mouth hot and open against Harry's shoulder, and he's taking Harry's come so well, gorgeous boy, he's so good—

Harry comes out of the fog sometime later, minutes, maybe hours. Eggsy's quiet and sated underneath him, limbs tangled together, sighing a little now and then, pressing sweet little kisses to Harry's neck and shoulder.

"Hi," Eggsy whispers, when Harry stirs. "You all right?"

"Mm," Harry hums, shifting to take a little more weight on his arms so he's no longer crushing Eggsy, regardless of how he whines in token protest. "Yes, darling, I'm quite possibly the best I've ever been." He nuzzles Eggsy's cheek, relishing the sweet flush of pink. "I'm afraid I was quite rough with you just now, sweet boy." The flush deepens, and Eggsy squirms, breath hitching at the catch of Harry's slowly softening cock inside him.

"I liked it," Eggsy says, far too shyly for such a tempting creature. Harry ruthlessly throttles down the urge to ask Eggsy to simply never leave this bed, and instead stay here forever, just like this, loose-limbed and decadent and flushed a gorgeous pink all over, only for Harry to worship.

"I'm glad to hear it, dearest," Harry murmurs, cock finally slipping out of Eggsy's stretched hole, "I was worried I might have hurt you."

"Only a little," Eggsy says, blush deepening even further, wriggling a little as Harry's come starts to drip from his puffy, abused hole. "And I—I wanted you to."

Harry exhales slowly. "Eggsy. Darling."

"What?" Eggsy says in a near-inaudible voice.

Harry gazes down at him seriously, making sure to hold his gaze.

"You," he says, speaking clearly and slowly, enunciating each word precisely so that Eggsy may know and understand the power he holds in his lovely hands, "will be the death of me."

The blush spreads until Eggsy is tongue-tied and red-faced underneath him, eyes flicking nervously away from Harry's intent gaze. Harry smiles, slowly and appreciatively.

"Mm," he rumbles, and follows that hot, lovely flush with kisses trailed all the way down to Eggsy's throat. "Lovely. Just lovely." He sucks another distinct mark onto the skin next to that sweet mole he loves so much, a wonderful idea beginning to take hold in his mind. "Turn over for me, darling."

"Wha'?" Eggsy looks sleepy and confused, and Harry experiences another of those clenching throbs in his chest, painful and oh so precious.

"Turn over for me," he repeats, softer, taking a moment to kiss those bruised lips as he peels himself off of Eggsy and rolls onto his side.

Eggsy does, without question, squirming and wriggling until he's flat on his stomach, the sweet curve of his pert arse bared to Harry's view, and what a lovely view it is. Eggsy's hole is a mess, stretched pink and leaking Harry's come. Harry swallows around the primal surge of possession and exhales a shuddering breath.

"Look at you, you gorgeous thing," he rumbles, and Eggsy shivers, head tucked atop his folded arms, turned to face Harry. He hates not being able to see Harry after sex, says he feels like he can't breathe without Harry there to help bring him down. His green eyes are soft and heavy-lidded, making him look like some indolent, spoiled odalisque plucked straight from a classical painting.

Harry reaches and slides a hand over his flank, damp with sweat and sleek with muscle. He leans over Eggsy, looming, and Eggsy's face goes soft and vulnerable as Harry leans down to steal a kiss. At the same moment that Eggsy sighs and relaxes into the kiss, Harry slides his hand down and strokes the pads of his index and middle fingers over Eggsy's abused hole.

Eggsy jumps, jerking instinctively away from the touch.

"Harry, what—" he says, hushed.

"Shhh," Harry coaxes him, taking another soft kiss, and another, stroking slowly over Eggsy's hole with each one as Eggsy gradually settles down, twitching sometimes and hissing with overstimulation when Harry dips the tip of a finger inside. When his darling boy is appropriately soothed, he pulls back enough to murmur, "Do you trust me, dearest?"

"Yes," Eggsy whispers without a moment's hesitation, and Harry inhales, slow and controlled. "Yeah, Harry, I—'course I trust you."

"Oh, darling," Harry says after a moment, mouth against his temple. "However can I begin to deserve you?"

"Harry, shut up, don't say things like—" Eggsy begins, flushed and sweetly indignant on Harry's behalf, and Harry quiets him with more kisses, eating up his tiny, shocked squeaks as Harry pushes a long finger all the way into his hole.

"Oh," Eggsy says breathlessly into Harry's mouth, shivering, and then, "oh, oh, oh," as Harry slides another finger in alongside the first. He keeps making those sweet, shocked little sounds as Harry gently scissors his fingers, testing the give and stretch of his loosened hole.

"Oh," Eggsy says again, "oh, oh fuck, Harry—" He falls silent as Harry pushes in a third finger, mouth falling open as his eyes fall closed in turn, pink lips too tempting for Harry not to take a taste.

"Oh god," Eggsy says raggedly several minutes later, as Harry scoops his own come out of his sweet boy's wrecked hole only to push it back inside. "Oh my god, Harry—" He gives a beautiful, shuddering moan when Harry does it again, eyes leaking more of those gorgeous tears. Harry kisses away the salty streaks, stroking the swollen rim of Eggsy's hole with the pad of his thumb, savouring the feeling of his gorgeous boy's slutty hole stretched around his fingers and his own come making a slick mess all over that lovely arse. Eggsy makes a raw, punched-out noise, shivering helplessly with overstimulation as he sobs into Harry's mouth and arches uncontrollably, pushing his arse back onto Harry's fingers, again and again, hungry and seeking.

"Yes," Harry rumbles, barely able to recognize his own voice, so dark and thick with something like possession has it become. "Just so, like that, look at you, filthy boy, my perfect lovely darling."

"Harry," Eggsy gasps, stunned and sweet, spine curving so beautifully, drooling against his own wrist. "Harry, I can't—I can't—"

"You can," Harry assures him, and pushes a fourth finger into that fever-hot soaked hole.

Eggsy comes with nothing but a choked noise, mouth hanging open soft and wet; his damp, stuck-together eyelashes fluttering unseeingly as his hole constricts with shivering, strangling pulses around Harry's hand. Harry watches, rapt, as Eggsy rides out his third orgasm of the night with a hitching sob and damp, gasping breaths.

"Harry," Eggsy pants, limp against Harry's chest, "no more, please, I can't—" He shudders through an aftershock as Harry carefully withdraws his fingers, biting down on his hand with a muffled keen.

"Yes, darling, shh, it's all right, you did so well," Harry soothes him, coaxing his hand out of his mouth and pressing soft kisses to the abused knuckles. "You were so good, sweetling, you took four of my fingers—"

Eggsy shivers, hole clenching down reflexively on nothing, and Harry watches with a sensation of something akin to worship.

"Of course," he says pensively, only vaguely aware of his words, "I was thinking of eating you out, darling, but I suppose it shall have to wait. Later, perhaps."

Eggsy moans, turning and seeking him blindly, hands grasping and finding as Harry catches him around the waist and tugs him into a tight embrace.

"Harry," Eggsy says breathlessly. "Harry, you're gonna kill me."