Harry stalked through the halls of Imperial College, his oxfords echoing loudly in the empty halls. At that time of day, that particular campus was nearly deserted, as most classes were held after twelve. Harry made sure to arrive a few minutes before Professor Arnold was known to show up to prepare his classroom.
The Kingsman agent could feel the anger boiling under his skin. His friend had sacrificed himself to save this man and there he was, walking around London like nothing had happened. Harry wouldn’t stand for this. He would find out who was behind these kidnappings, and then he’d destroy the ones who were responsible for Lancelot’s death.
He turned left at the end of the hall and continued until he found the right door. Harry pushed through and was about to make his way to the front of the classroom to await the professor’s arrival when he noticed he wasn’t alone.
“Oh,” he stopped short in his tracks, the door closing lightly behind him. The room’s only other occupant was a very young man in a bespoke pale gray suit, his light brown hair fashionably slicked back and his shoes polished to gleam. He stood near the desk, his pose casual as he held his hands in his pockets.
“Hello,” the young man smiled slightly, revealing perfectly white teeth.
Harry stared at him for a while longer before suddenly remembering his manners. “Yes, hello,” he said, slowly advancing forward.
“Are you here to see Professor Arnold?” the other asked, his blue eyes carefully observing Harry as he took the steps down one at a time.
Harry finally took the last step and came to stand a mere few feet away from the younger man. He regarded the stranger curiously, confidence exuding from the man in waves. “Why yes I am. Are you here to see him as well?”
The other man hummed, his cheeks creasing in a frightfully beautiful smile. “Not quite,” he said as he removed his hands from his pockets and took a step closer. “I’m here to see you, Mr. Hart,” he tilted his head forward and looked at him through his long lashes.
Alarms sounded internally in Harry’s head but he had no time to do anything before the younger man had grabbed hold of his arms and turned him around, pushing him against the professor’s desk and keeping him there.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you interfere with the Professor, Mr. Hart.”
“Young man,” Harry began calmly, his muscles tense and ready for a fight. “I can promise you that if you do not let me go this instant, I will do it myself and hurt you gravely in return.”
“I’m not here lookin’ for a fight,” the man smirked, a gleeful look in his eyes. “I’m here on orders from my boss.” He sobered up slightly as he continued. “I understand that your friend was a casualty in this mess, Mr. Hart, but MI6 has reason to believe that interfering now would only cause more problems.”
“MI6?” Harry glanced at him from head to toe, his body still poised for a fight.
Footsteps approaching from the hallway caught both of their attentions. “Fuck,” the younger man swore quietly, twisting his head slightly to glance behind him at the door. “Just… follow my lead okay? I promise we’ll explain this whole mess soon.”
Before Harry could say anything in reply, the younger man suddenly pushed himself forward and up onto his toes, wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck, and planted a kiss on Harry’s mouth. Harry’s own hands came up instinctively to place them on the other’s hips. Just as that happened, the door behind them finally opened.
“Oh my dear,” a startled voice came from the doorway, the sound of a briefcase hitting the ground following shortly after.
The young man pulled away abruptly, a flush staining his cheeks as he turned to face the intruder with wide eyes. “Oh gosh, we’re so sorry professor!” he exclaimed, his hands pulling at his suit in a semblance of straightening it out.
Harry was frozen for a second before following suit, his mind still whirring in confusion. “Our apologies professor,” he nodded towards the man who still stood shocked at the entrance. “We seem to have gotten a little… carried away,” he spared the younger man another curious glance.
“No no, that’s quite… understandable, I suppose.” The professor frowned slightly before bending down hastily to retrieve his fallen briefcase. “Is there something I could help you gentlemen with?” He started making his way to the desk at the front of the room while still eyeing them warily.
“Actually professor, I had a few questions regarding your paper on the Gaia theory?” Harry watched as the younger man stepped forward, his hand extending for a handshake. “My name is Charles Redmayne, I’m a graduate student at Oxford. When I read your research, I just knew I had to find a way to work it into my thesis paper,” he smiled brightly.
“Oh of course!” the professor exclaimed, his own expression brightening. “Always a pleasure to meet a fellow intellectual,” he reached forward to shake his hand enthusiastically. “And this gentleman is…” he looked at Harry.
“Harry Wotton,” he plastered a charming smile on his face, extending his own hand.
“I’m very sorry that you had to walk in on that,” ‘Charles’ blushed prettily once they had finished their introductions. “I’m afraid I don’t get to see my partner much, and I’m only in town for a few days. We didn’t mean to…” he trailed off nervously.
Harry had to give it to the young man. He could lie straight through his teeth.
“Distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they say,” Professor Arnold gave them an indulgent smile. “Mr. Redmayne, it would be my absolute pleasure to discuss my paper with you, but unfortunately I’m a little bit behind schedule at the moment, as it were. Perhaps we can schedule a better time…?”
“Of course!” the younger man exclaimed happily. “That won’t be a problem.”
Harry followed ‘Charles’ out once he had set a meeting with the professor, keeping a close eye on the younger man to make sure he didn’t run off.
“Thank you,” the man in the gray suit suddenly said. “For followin’ along,” he explained at Harry’s quizzical glance.
“I’m still awaiting explanations,” Harry told him. “I also find it extremely peculiar that you know my real name. I only know your pseudonym.”
The young man smiled brightly again, turning to face him slightly as they walked outside. “M’name’s Eggsy. Eggsy Unwin.”
Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks. He knew that name.
Eggsy turned to face him expectantly once he’d realised the other was no longer walking next to him.
“I think you knew me dad, righ’?”