Chapter Text
If anyone were to see a young man running across a university campus in the pouring rain, they would most likely laugh. They wouldn't feel remorse for the young man, though he would probably panicking, wishing he could suddenly develop super sonic speed, or that the bus wasn't late, or that the babysitter didn't cancel at the last minute, leaving him with nowhere to drop his sister off but his best mate's house, or that his deadbeat step father was dead-
In any case, Eggsy Unwin is late. He's late, and of course it's pouring rain outside, he's soaked and dead on his feet because he spent the entire night studying and taking care of a sick Daisy, and above all, he's late for Mr. Hart's class again. He's been late almost every day, and sometimes, he doesn't even show up, and he knows that Mr. Hart hates him. Which is awful, of course, because Eggsy's sort of in love with him, (It's not his fault, no one pushing fifty should look that fucking good in a suit), and it's not like a man like Harry "Silver Fox" Hart will even look at him. Unless it's to grimace.
Miserably, he pulls open the door to the building, and tries to dry his wet shoes on the carpet before trudging to where Mr. Hart's classroom is. He can see that the class is full, and Mr. Hart is walking around the room with his hands in his pockets, lecturing away, and for a moment, Eggsy considers walking away and going back home so that he doesn't have to face his professor's disappointment like he does with every other professor in school.
It's not his fault, it really isn't. Teachers always like to think that Eggsy is just another ungrateful punk from the estates who doesn't give a damn about their teachings, that he cares more about partying than his education. He's gone so much, what else could it be? It isn't that at all, but they don't care enough to ask, so Eggsy doesn't bother telling them the truth. Not that it's their business anyway. They don't care.
Truth is, Eggsy's life has been a downward spiral for a long, long time. It started when his father passed away when he was seven. He was too young to understand what was going on, but he forever remembered that Christmas as the day his mother stopped smiling and his father stopped coming home. Lee was a good soldier and a good man, and an even better father. Unfortunately, an explosion took his life, and little Eggsy learned early on that the world is just not kind to people like him. Then came Dean Baker, who wooed his mother with flowers and comforting arms, and it wasn't until they were married that Eggsy learned that Dean was the kind of monster that they warned children about. A drug user and dealer, Dean was a horrible, horrible man, and when he started beating his mum, Eggsy tried to fight back, but ultimately ended up in hospital for trying.
It only got worse when Dean started making Eggsy go on his drug runs. His mother didn't know until he was arrested, and that only led to further complications. It got so bad that Eggsy would have to steal food and rip people off so that he could feed his family, since Dean was doing nothing to help, and of course, he got caught for that too. He doesn't remember taking the first pill, but after a while, the anti-depressants were the only thing keeping him afloat. Between the fear of coming home and seeing that Dean killed his mother, or the disgust he felt for selling himself on a street corner for a bit of cash, or the knowledge that somewhere, his father was disappointed in him, Eggsy Unwin was a mess, and popping pills seemed like a good idea. Slowly, he got addicted, and it almost took him too, until Ryan and Jamal found him on the floor of his bedroom, covered in vomit and clutching a bottle of pills in his hands. They took him to the hospital, and helped him get cleaned up. They never spoke of the event again, and three months later, Eggsy went to join the marines.
He only lasted a few months, because his mother called him halfway through Basic, begging him to come home because she was afraid to lose him too. So, he packed his bags, and came home. Dean was still an arsehole, but when Eggsy was around, he didn't dare touch his mother. Especially when Eggsy came home one day and found out his mother was pregnant. After nine long months of fear and anger, Daisy Unwin was a breath of fresh air, and Eggsy fell in love with her right from the start. A few days after Daisy was born, Michelle kicked Dean out, after the divorce was finalized, they could finally be a family. Eggsy decided to enroll in school, and was planning on being a firefighter he was done. His mother made enough during the divorce to put him through school and keep the family fed with her job as a waitress. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than what it was.
Then, just because his life is monumentally fucked up, it had to get worse, because his mother got sick. A fucking tumor in her brain, stage four. 'We can make her comfortable,' the doctors told him. 'But, son, there's not much we can do at this point.' There was nothing we could do. It's the same thing that his father's commanding officer told his mother when his father died. He expected nothing different, but it still knocked the shit out of him. He let his mother cry, and then he let Daisy cry, and he let all of his neighbors cry when they came over once they've 'heard the news'. Eggsy didn't cry. Eggsy was strong.
He almost had to drop out of university because he was always either working, or taking care of his mother, and school always came second to his family. That's when the looks started, really, teachers giving him disappointed glances in the hallways, and irritated glances when he showed up late or skipped class for a whole week. They never tried to talk to him, and when they did, they accused him of not caring, and suggesting that he took a different course. He always left angry, and would come home to his mother looking happy, and his baby sister would smile and hug him tightly, and he remembered why he had to try for as long as he could.
Only a few months after the initial diagnosis, Michelle Unwin was buried right next to her husband, and at the funeral, Eggsy stood by, holding a two year old Daisy in his arms. He was her guardian now, but that didn't mean anything. His mates hugged him and people brought over dishes for him to eat so that he didn't go hungry, but they left an awful taste in his mouth and always seemed to get stuck in his throat, so he left the food for Daisy, and tried to be a good big brother, just for her. He still didn't cry.
He didn't cry, he didn't yell, until the day that Daisy came toddling into the room where he had been studying, looking troubled, and so, he got down on his knees and asked her what was wrong. 'When is mummy coming home?' She asked him, and he froze, half in shock, half in horror. 'She's been gone a long time. When is she coming back?'
There is nothing worse than having to explain to a child that her mother isn't coming home ever again. and watching the understanding hit her eyes as they begin to water, and she falls silent, then begins to cry. That was the moment that broke Eggsy in the end. He put Daisy to bed that night, and finally, finally, after months of pent up emotion, began to cry. He punched at the walls of his bedroom, leaving holes in the drywall, broke many things, until settling down in his mothers room, and clutched his parents wedding photo to his chest as he silently wept until morning came.
Life went on after that, he continued with school, sometimes having to skip class for Daisy, and all of his teachers were always disappointed in him. He's still the same useless estates chav he's always been.
Some things just don't change.
It hasn't changed at all, really, and it won't change if he walks in the classroom right now.
It won't change if he walks away, either.
Eggsy pushes the door open quietly, and everyone turns to look at him, Mr. Hart included. He's now sitting on the edge of his desk with his feet and arms crossed over his chest, and watching Eggsy with a blank face. People used to snicker whenever he came in late, but now they just sit there quietly and wait for Mr. Hart to start yelling.
But, he never does.
Instead, he tilts his head in Eggsy's direction, looking almost amused. "Mr. Unwin." He greets him gently, like he always does. "Thank you for joining us."
Eggsy gives him an apologetic smile. "Th-the bus was late, so..." He tries to explain, but his words trail off.
Mr. Hart nods. "So you elected to run here in order to dirty my carpet with rainwater, how kind of you." He says with a smirk.
And fuck, he really has to stop doing that. Eggsy's heart can't take it. Every smile, every smirk, every warm chuckle, it's bad for Eggsy's health.
Here's the thing about Mr. Harry Hart; he's a silver fox in a well tailored suit with a dry sense of humor and a fuckton of sass. He's all warm, happy, chocolate brown eyes when you say something he likes, snark when you say something he doesn't and he's always been nice. Seriously, he could probably kill a man and charm his way out of it. He's handsome as hell, well put together, posh as fuck with a velvety voice that Eggsy most definitely does not fantasize about at night when he's alone in bed. Harry Hart is the kind of man that probably has a hundred potential partners lining up at his door day and night. He probably has a beautiful wife at home whom he dotes on. He tries not to think of the faceless woman in Harry's house, out of fear that the jealousy and hurt that follows every thought will be visible on his face where he can't hide it.
Partially out of shame, he looks down to his rain-soaked trainers and tries to hide his blush. "I'm sorry, sir."
"Why don't you just kick him out of the class like everyone else does, Mr. Hart?" Charlie Hesketh shouts from his seat in the front of the classroom. His mates, Didby, Hugo and Rufus, all a bunch of snot-nosed dickheads from rich families, who could fail out of classes and be called 'inspirations' because their parents will help them out of everything, all laugh.
Eggsy clinches his teeth, but doesn't look up, just in case Mr. Hart decides to humor them and kick him out. He would understand. Really.
He can almost hear Mr. Hart's long-suffering sigh, then he says, in a quiet voice, "Go take your seat and take out your notebook. Get any notes you missed from someone else. Alright?"
"Yes, sir." Eggsy whispers gratefully, and refuses to meet anyone's eyes before he takes the steps two at a time and plops down in his seat right next to Roxy Morton, who gives him an understanding smile, and slides her notebook over for him to copy from.
Harry goes on from where he left off, and Eggsy writes his notes out like a perfect transcript of his lecture. He always pays attention in Mr. Hart's literature class, more than he does in any other class. He loves literature, really, he does, despite what everyone thinks about him, being an estate kid and all, he loves to read, he loves theatre, and if he's honest, he doesn't mind writing either. Mr. Hart is a great teacher, he makes class entertaining, and genuinely seems to care about his students. And it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he's 'arse over tits in love with him', no matter what Roxy says.
At the end of class, he packs his things away in his backpack, and turns to Roxy with an almost desperate stare. "Buy me a drink?" He asks her.
Normally, she would laugh, but today, she only gives him an understanding, sympathetic smile, and nods as they descend the stairs.
"Oh, Mr. Unwin?" Mr. Hart calls to him as he's about to leave. "Would you mind staying for just a moment? I'd like to have a word, if that's alright."
Eggsy hesitates out of nervousness, but nods. "Sure."
Roxy shoots him a worried glance, then slips out the door, leaving him alone with his teacher.
Once they're alone, Mr. Hart signals for him to join him at his desk. Eggsy does as he's asked and stands in front of the threatening looking cherry colored desk that oozes authority and makes him tremble in his winged trainers every time he sees Mr. Hart standing behind it. He often dreams of getting fucked on that desk, nice and rough with Harry Hart pulling his hair and splitting him wide open, and definitely not looking at him with the look of concern that he currently has on his face while he stares at Eggsy, like he's looking for something that he can't find, or doesn't really want to. It's both unsettling and flattering in a weird sort of way, and Eggsy elects to not say anything at all.
Mr. Hart pulls out a piece of paper, the quiz from the week before, and looks it over before sliding it across the desk to Eggsy. The boy feels a bit proud to see the perfect score circled in red on the top of his page, not that he doesn't always ace the quizzes.
Apparently, Mr. Hart notices his preening, and gestures to the page. "You're very good, Eggsy." He says.
Eggsy startles a bit at the sound of his name. No one ever calls him Eggsy, only Mr. Unwin, or if they really hate him, they call him Gary. He's not used to people calling him Eggsy, besides his friends of course, and definitely not a teacher.
"Sir?"
Mr. Hart smiles with what can only be explained as fondness-or, at least, that's what Eggsy hopes it is, but his imagination always has been a bit wild. "Which is confusing, considering that you've been late to my class almost every day, if you actually show up at all, that is."
And just like that, Eggsy feels like he's reliving the same conversation for the thousandth time, and he can't stop the way his shoulders slump and he just sort of hurts all over as the list entitled People Who Think Eggsy Is A Disappointment grows longer yet again, though it cuts him deeper than it ever has, because this time, it's Harry Hart.
He can feel Mr. Hart's eyes on him, following the line of his of his slumped shoulders. "Now, generally, teachers who observe this sort of behavior in students tend to brush that student off as someone who doesn't care about their teachings, but I don't want to be that teacher. Because I've seen his many times; a student struggles to attend class, though always gets perfect marks on their work when it's handed in, and I know that their terrible attendance isn't from a lack of trying, but because there's someone or something that is holding them back from giving their all in class. Something that isn't exactly their fault, but yet they have to deal with it." Harry reaches across the desk to lay his hand on Eggsy's arm, and Eggsy tries not to feel sparks all throughout his body. "Eggsy, will you look at me for a moment, please?"
He tries not to, he really does, but Harry Hart's gentle request makes any shred of his will power disintegrate the instant he opens his mouth.
Eggsy looks up, and his heart flutters. Mr. Hart's face a mix between concern and something that looks too much like affection, but Eggsy doesn't even dare to hope. People like Harry Hart don't care about people like Eggsy Unwin.
And they certainly don't love them, he reminds himself.
But, Harry surprises him again, and declines his head a fraction of an inch so that he's completely eye level with Eggsy, and gives his arm a comforting squeeze. "Eggsy, I want you to know that I will never, ever judge you for any reason." Yeah, right. "I want to help you in any way I can." Sure. "I care about you more than you think." Wait, what? Eggsy narrows his eyes, not daring to trust it, though the warmth of Harry's worried gaze, plus the weight of his hand on Eggsy's arm is almost too much for him to bear. "Is there something you want to tell me?" Harry keeps his voice quiet when he asks, as if he's afraid that Eggsy will shut down.
Eggsy is silent for a long time. He thinks about the beautiful baby girl that he gets to come home to every day after class, the one who's growing up without a mother or the father who gives a shit about her, but the one who seems to know that her big brother is doing his best. He finds the thought that Harry Hart might different comforting, but it's not enough to make him feel any better about telling him the truth. It's not that he's embarrassed, because he isn't, but if the world has made him aware of one thing, it's that he can't count on anyone but himself.
"No." He says, meeting his teacher's eyes and offering the most sincere smile he can manage. "I was just late, sir. It won't happen again, I'll be on time from now on, I promise. I'm sorry."
Harry's face drops. His usually warm, inviting, chocolate colored eyes are scrutinizing every detail of Eggsy's face, waiting for him to crack like he so badly wants to. However, Eggsy doesn't let his face give anything away, and eventually, he purses his lips into a tight, thin line, and sighs. It's the most disappointed he's ever looked in Eggsy's presence, and it hurts a little more than it probably should. He nods in the direction of the door where Roxy is lingering nervously behind the glass. "You should catch up with Miss Roxanne. I'll see you Thursday."
For a split second, Eggsy nearly stays behind, if only to get that look off of Harry's face, or maybe kiss him for not kicking him out of the course, but stands up all the same, and exits the room without another word.
Roxy pushes off of the wall and looks him up and down once the door is closed. "What did he say?" She demands. "You're not kicked out of class, right?"
He shakes his head.
"Well? What did he say, then?"
"Not much." He lies. "He just wanted to know why I was late."
Roxy doesn't believe him, it's clear on her face, but she doesn't ask. Instead, she throws her backpack over her shoulder, and offers up her elbow. "I believe I promised you a drink."
This time, Eggsy smiles. He takes hold of her arm, and lets Roxy Morton take care of him.
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That night, laying in bed, he thinks back to Mr. Hart's words, and the way that the man he's loved for so long genuinely seemed to care about him. He knows it isn't rational, that Harry Hart would never love him back, but it's nice to pretend sometimes when you feel like you're drowning. So, he closes his eyes and pretends that it was love he saw in those big brown eyes, and swaddles himself in blankets to make him feel like he's being held. Daisy wakes up at two thirty, and he pretends that Harry is watching him from the doorway with a loving smile on his face as he rocks his sister back to sleep.
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Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK, are the repetitive thoughts running through Eggsy Unwin's mind as he speed walks through campus on Thursday morning. He's soaked, again, the rain coming down less heavily than it was a few days before, but still enough to be irritating. In his arms, two year old Daisy makes a sound of distress, and with his free hand, Eggsy pulls her hood up on her coat more so that it's covering her face, and he adjusts her so that she's buried against his chest. "It's alright, love, just a little further." He promises her, though it's more to convince himself.
Today, Eggsy was supposed to be on time. He had set his alarm ten minutes earlier, got ready, got Daisy up to take her to Jamal's, and just as he was about to leave, Jamal called to tell him that his grandmother had passed the night before, so they were heading off to Cardiff, and he couldn't watch Daisy. Eggsy couldn't be mad about that, it wasn't Jamal's fault, so he called Ryan, whom, by sheer shitty luck, had just taken up a job, and was already at work. Of fucking course. He tried Mrs. Osbourne who lived a few doors down, a sweet old lady who brought him a casserole every Monday, but she didn't pick up, so, that was Eggsy sunk. The problem with being an estates kid meant that you couldn't trust many people, so after fifteen minutes of debating, cursing, and panicking, Eggsy scooped little Daisy up, slung her diaper bag over his shoulder along with his backpack, and scurried off to class.
He looks up at the clock as he hurls the door of the building open, and feels panic bubble up inside his belly again. He's twenty five minutes late, later than he's ever been, and carrying a baby. Not like he had a choice, but he can only imagine how Mr. Hart will react. Now he'll really kick you out, his mind tells him as he approaches the door. He peers in, sees Mr. Hart pacing around the room with his hands in his pockets. Eggsy's shaking now, terrified, but he opens the door. He can hear Roxy's gasp from her seat as the class goes dead silent, and Harry turns to face Eggsy in the doorway.
Mr. Hart's eyes widen. "Eggsy." He says in surprise.
The young man shuffles on the floor uncomfortably, and adjusts Daisy in his arms. "My babysitter cancelled, and I-" He tries to explain, but is cut off by a snort and laugh from one of the seats in the back. "No wonder he's never here, he can't keep it in his fucking pants." Charlie Hesketh snickers, earning a glare from Eggsy.
Harry breathes in deeply before turning towards Charlie with a venomous smile on his face. "Mr. Hesketh. I do suggest you watch your language, as there is a young child present, unless you'd rather continue listening to this lecture from the hallway." He puts extra emphasis on the last word, and waits for Charlie's face to drop before turning back to Eggsy, whom he looks over very carefully. "It's pouring out." He says. "You walked all this way with her?"
Eggsy's heart tumbles, and he looks down at his shoes. "I had to. My babysitter cancelled, both my mates were busy, so I... I had to. I didn't have anywhere to take her. It's just us at home."
His professor doesn't say anything for a moment, just stares at the baby in his arms. "She's beautiful." He murmurs at the little girl, making Eggsy glance up in pride. "She's yours?"
He shakes his head. "Nah, she's my sister."
Surprisingly, Mr. Hart looks a little relieved at the statement. "What's her name?"
"Daisy."
Harry nods in the baby's direction. "Hello Daisy." He murmurs, earning a shy smile from the toddler, which makes both parties grin. "Is this what you were reluctant to tell me yesterday?" He asks, quiet enough so that no one else in the room will hear.
Eggsy nods slowly. "Yeah." He glances up over towards Charlie Hesketh, where the boy is sitting with a smug look on his face, and suddenly just feels so miserable he can't stand to look anywhere but the floor. "I know this ain't the place for a baby, and you can kick me out if you want, I just-"
"Kick you out? For what?" Mr. Hart sounds appalled. "For having other obligations besides being a student? That's hardly your fault, Eggsy."
There's no mistaking the way Eggsy's heart practically leaps out of his chest with joy, as he's pretty sure Harry could hear the way the organ faltered for a moment. He's caught between making an arse of himself and throwing his arms around his teacher, Daisy in his arms and all, and staying in his lane and just being grateful that he's allowed to stay. He chooses to go with the latter. "Thank you, sir." He whispers, and genuinely means it.
The smile that spreads across Harry Hart's face is soft and sunshiney bright all at once, and he leans even closer so that Eggsy can smell the expensive cologne he wears, and he places that oh so comforting hand on Eggsy's shoulder. "Go on then, take your seat. You're already late, and you're still ruining my carpets." He teases gently, making the younger man laugh.
Eggsy adjusts his grip on Daisy as he climbs the steps, and takes his seat next to Roxy, who's smiling sympathetically while she helps him unload his class materials and the bag of Daisy's things. Once seated, he adjusts Daisy in his lap, and looks down at Harry, who is miraculously still watching him with a certain type of fondness that Eggsy has never seen before. Their eyes meet, and Eggsy smiles, to which Harry nods, and continues his lecture from where it left off, like he was never interrupted.
It all seems to go great for a while; Eggsy takes his notes while Daisy dozes in his lap, Harry lectures, and he and Roxy occasionally pass notes. It all goes just fine, until, about halfway through the class, Daisy begins to fuss. It's small at first, she just squirms a little more than usual, but when the noises start, that's when Eggsy's heart begins to sink a little. "Shhh, Dais', it's alright." He tries to sooth her, whispering to her quietly so that no one else will hear.
"She shouldn't even be in the classroom, people are trying to learn, Eggy." Charlie snips under his breath mockingly.
Before Eggsy can say anything, Roxy, beautiful, gorgeous Roxy, turns around in her chair and gives him the most venomous glare she can muster up. "She's a baby, Charlie." She reminds him.
"Doesn't mean-"
"Charlie, shut your fuckin' mouth." Eggsy growls.
Daisy lets out a loud wail of protest, loud enough to stop Harry from teaching. "Eggsy," He starts to say.
"Yeah, I know." Eggsy doesn't waste one miserable moment to get to his feet and descend the steps so that he can take Daisy out in the hall. His face is red hot with shame, he can feel the heat radiating down his neck, but that doesn't stop him from hurrying. It was a stupid idea anyway.
However, when he reaches the bottom of the stairs, Harry is there waiting for him with his arms slightly outstretched, and a soft smile on his face, one that's asking for trust. "May I?" He asks, and it's all he says.
Warily, Eggsy hesitates, but eventually hands the struggling baby over, depositing her in his professor's arms. Once she's safe in Harry's stong grip (and he holds her like a pro, what the fuck), Eggsy watches Harry for a good long time, unsure of what to do. "Sir?" He tries.
Harry looks back up at him inclines his head toward the chair that Eggsy had previously occupied. "Go take your seat. I can handle her. She's a toddler, she doesn't like to be in one place for a long time, do you Miss. Daisy?" He's suddenly speaking to Daisy, his voice taking on a lighter tone than before, and it makes butterflies flutter around in Eggsy's stomach when the little girl lets out a noise of agreement. "Yes, your big brother's in class, but you're stuck in a chair all day, it's awful, isn't it, Miss. Daisy?" The toddler makes another sound, and Harry laughs quietly. "Well, you can walk around with me, alright?" And with that, Harry turns on his heal with Daisy in his arms, and begins to walk around the classroom like he wasn't carrying Eggsy's baby sister and leaving him with a stomach of butterflies and a heart that's swelling with the amount of love he has for this man.
Somehow, Eggsy finds himself back at his seat, his vision blurred and his hands shaking, and when he watches Harry with the baby, he has to very discretely wipe tears from his face, though the weight of Roxy's hand on his arm makes him think that he isn't being as discrete as he would have hoped. He doesn't mean to cry, he really doesn't, but seeing Harry Hart walk around his classroom, mid lecture, carrying Daisy while he talks without even missing a beat, it's more that Eggsy's heart can handle. God, he loves this man.
Class ends, and Eggsy is on an all time high. He waits until the classroom is mostly empty to descend the steps and approach Mr. Hart, who is currently trying to keep Daisy from chewing on his tie. "You didn't have to do that." He says when he finds his voice.
Harry doesn't miss a beat before saying "Of course I did. She wanted to move. Babies don't like to stay put." He looks up from the toddler in his arms, and gives Eggsy an affectionate smile. "Besides, your education is important, and God knows you've sacrificed enough for her. I don't mind looking after her, Eggsy, don't be afraid to bring her to class."
Eggsy feels the heat crawling up his cheeks as he slides Daisy out of his professor's arms. "I-I don't know how to thank you enough."
"There's no need."
"Yeah, there is. You've done more for me than any teacher, no, any person has in my entire life, even when I don't deserve it-"
"Eggsy, stop." Harry interrupts him, placing his hand on the younger man's shoulder. He looks unhappy, and Eggsy doesn't get why, so he shuts up, and Harry looks for all the world downhearted by whatever Eggsy's done to upset him. "You must stop doing that, you darling boy. If you value my sanity, stop telling yourself that you aren't worth something, because you are."
And, okay, yeah, Eggsy doesn't even dare to speak, because he knows that if does, the lump that's slowly rising in his throat will clog his words, and he won't let that happen in front of Harry.
The hand on his shoulder tightens comfortingly. "You are a very brave young man who is doing a very scary thing, raising a child all on your own when you're so young and have no one to guide you along the way. Which is why," Harry pauses and reached behind him to pull something off his desk and press it into Eggsy's free hand. "I'm giving you this."
Eggsy looks the piece of paper over, and sees an address in Stanhope Mews scrawled out in Harry's elegant script, causing his heart to perform a somersault. He looks back up at Harry, his jaw hitting the floor. "This... This is your... Where you..."
Harry nods. "I know you have other classes and obligations, Eggsy, and your friends may not always be available to babysit. I'm simply offering you a place to take your sister, should the occasion arise. If it means that your education and health are not being sacrificed, I have no problem watching her for a few hours."
The younger man knows he's doing a remarkable impression of a flounder, but can't find it in him to close his mouth. "I... I couldn't ask you to-"
"You don't have to." Harry replies, offering up the kindest smile Eggsy's ever seen. "You'll find that there is very little that I wouldn't do for you, dear boy."
And, sure, maybe it's a bit inappropriate, but Eggsy can't be bothered with shouldn'ts-and-shoulds right now, so with Daisy tucked protectively in his arm, he throws his free one around Harry's torso, and hugs him tight. There's a moment where Harry doesn't do anything, and Eggsy fears he may have crossed a line, but then, the perfect man that is his professor laughs, albeit a little breathless, and hugs Eggsy back.
Harry Hart smells fucking divine, Eggsy finds, and he can feel the muscles hidden underneath sharp suits, and it's fucking incredible. He loves it. He loves Harry. He knows it's wrong, but he does, and there's no denying it now. Not after this.
The embrace ends much too quickly, but the feeling of Harry's strong, protective arms around him lingers, and he offers a sheepish smile. "Thank you, Mr. Hart." He murmurs.
"Harry." His professor says, returning the smile. "You don't need to be formal with me, dear boy. Harry will do just fine."
Eggsy's grin only widens. "Harry." He repeats.
"Eggsy."
It's a perfect moment, and Eggsy hates to break it, but, he finds it in him to nod, and he retreats from the room, smiling brightly and feeling like he's floating, as opposed to actually walking. In the reflection of the glass, he can see Mr. Hart smiling at him still.
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The storm doesn't subside at all, but Roxy takes the both of them to her house so that they can play with her dog, a large poodle named Lady who adores Daisy. They do their homework while Daisy and Lady play, and eventually, Roxy gets Eggsy to spill his guts about everything that happened with Harry. She, of course, loses her mind, and Eggsy tries not to blush like an idiot.
"Daisy sure seemed to like him." He says, watching the little girl curl her fingers in Lady's fur.
"He sure seemed to like Daisy too." Roxy answers, a tad of mischief to her voice. "It's the Unwin curse, you fall in love with them no matter what."
"Are you saying that you're in love with me, Roxy?"
"Just her. You're a mess, and I can't have that in my life."
They laugh, they eat lunch, and when the sun finally goes down, they decide to part. Roxy drives them home, and Daisy gives 'Aunt Roxy' a good long hug with a smile on her face, making Eggsy feeling lighter and happier than he has in a long time.
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It's dark out when Eggsy hears it; glass breaking onto the floor.
He's in the kitchen, making a cup of tea for himself, and his first thought is of Daisy, who is sleeping in her crib that's been set up in the living room. He grabs a kitchen knife, the biggest one he can find, and sneaks out to the living room, his feet light as air on the carpet as he pads his way across the floor. His heart is hammering in his chest. He's terrified. He knows he can fight, but the fact that Daisy is out there, exposed...
He sneaks around the corner, knife expertly cradled in his hand, his eyes immediately flashing to the crib where Daisy is still sleeping soundly. He lets out the breath that was stuck in his throat, relaxing just a little, until he sees the glass from the broken window on the floor, and then hears the telltale sound of footsteps coming down the hallway.
There's someone in the house.
The thought sends a jolt of panic down his spine, and it only worsens when the figure makes his way around the corner. It's dark, but he'd recognize that ominous figure of a man anywhere.
"Hello, Muggsy." Dean sneers in his usual sickly sweet way.
Eggsy's heart drops to the floor, and he lunges toward the crib.