Merlin (
hornrimming) wrote in
calvinbox2015-12-29 04:40 am
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Entry tags:
I'm so tired my mind is set on you
Who: Merlin, Eggsy Unwin (
mannersmaketh ) & Harry Hart (
etiquette )
What: Merlin has had a rough day, and the men in his life take it upon themselves to wind him down.
Verse: Fix-It Canon
Rating: NC-17
One week.
One week until Harry's (hopefully) final medical exam. If they were all lucky, he would pass it with flying colors and the remains of the round table could go ahead and swear him in as Arthur. One week, and Robin could slide comfortably back into Merlin and catch up with the building backlog that had been, for the time being, siphoned off between Nimueh and Morgana. One week, and it can't come soon enough.
For a man who has trouble at times admitting his limitations, he has become painfully aware of them in the last few months. One such limitation, it seemed, was having to talk to people, outside of his current sphere of being and in a realm he had never once had the desire to be in: that of politics. With the world gone to shit and him being one of the only men still breathing that knew the grand scope of what had happened, that responsibility fell to him in abundance. From the moment Eggsy handed him Chester's phone, the clock ticked and ticked until it ran nonstop. Returning the remaining world leaders from cells to their home countries, meetings, avoiding press conferences, maintaining secrecy in the face of mass global panic, finding Harry, rehabilitating Harry, more meetings, filling in the fractures in Kingsman itself--it just built up, and up, and up.
( Funny, how something that was usually a more stressful engagement had become his only source of peace from the chaos. Forming functional threesomes with your coworkers didn't exactly have a precedent for being easy. )
His key turns in the door of Harry's Mews home, and he hangs it on it's hook by the door. He feels heavy, but getting out of his shoes and coat, out of this suit into a nice jumper, that's all he wants. One more week, and no more emergency phone calls from Jeremy Corbyn or the Harriet with the CIA. No more gaping holes in his staff that he couldn't address, no more being the secret face of a bloody great secret organization, a position he had never signed up for in the first place.
One more week and he could just be Merlin again.
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What: Merlin has had a rough day, and the men in his life take it upon themselves to wind him down.
Verse: Fix-It Canon
Rating: NC-17
One week.
One week until Harry's (hopefully) final medical exam. If they were all lucky, he would pass it with flying colors and the remains of the round table could go ahead and swear him in as Arthur. One week, and Robin could slide comfortably back into Merlin and catch up with the building backlog that had been, for the time being, siphoned off between Nimueh and Morgana. One week, and it can't come soon enough.
For a man who has trouble at times admitting his limitations, he has become painfully aware of them in the last few months. One such limitation, it seemed, was having to talk to people, outside of his current sphere of being and in a realm he had never once had the desire to be in: that of politics. With the world gone to shit and him being one of the only men still breathing that knew the grand scope of what had happened, that responsibility fell to him in abundance. From the moment Eggsy handed him Chester's phone, the clock ticked and ticked until it ran nonstop. Returning the remaining world leaders from cells to their home countries, meetings, avoiding press conferences, maintaining secrecy in the face of mass global panic, finding Harry, rehabilitating Harry, more meetings, filling in the fractures in Kingsman itself--it just built up, and up, and up.
( Funny, how something that was usually a more stressful engagement had become his only source of peace from the chaos. Forming functional threesomes with your coworkers didn't exactly have a precedent for being easy. )
His key turns in the door of Harry's Mews home, and he hangs it on it's hook by the door. He feels heavy, but getting out of his shoes and coat, out of this suit into a nice jumper, that's all he wants. One more week, and no more emergency phone calls from Jeremy Corbyn or the Harriet with the CIA. No more gaping holes in his staff that he couldn't address, no more being the secret face of a bloody great secret organization, a position he had never signed up for in the first place.
One more week and he could just be Merlin again.
no subject
That's it, seven fucking days and then Harry will pass his test and take over as Arthur. Not that Merlin wasn't doing a good job, he was, but Eggsy could tell that he was stretched too thin, worn out and probably just pretty much done with everything that came with being Arthur. He also missed having the man's voice in his ear while he was working, the Scottish brogue soothing in high stress situations, but Eggsy knew Kingsman needed Merlin more as Arthur than as his handler.
But, since he couldn't do much more to speed up Harry's recovery than sparring with him or coaxing him into as many physical activities as possible, swear down it's just to help Harry get back up to snuff and not because Eggsy was into that or anything, he just had to wait.
Eggsy hated waiting. He could be patient when he wanted, if he tried, but the world was still recovering, his status as an agent was in limbo, he had more missions than he'd have thought he'd be assigned, which he was doing really well on, if you ask him. But, sometimes a man was just in the mood to relax. Well, as relax as much as one can when trying to sex up two older gentlemen.
"Harry, you in? Merlin?"
He invites himself inside, like normal, standing in the doorway to take off his suit jacket, toe off his shoes, and set the umbrella inside. Eggsy was pretty sure they were both here, before him, but no harm in letting them both know that he's here now, and very much in the mood for company.
i am sorry this took so long ;;
Stepping up to Arthur is the most logical thing for him to do. Harry is one of the eldest members now aside from Merlin--but he's also one of the few to bring a broader horizon of ideas and a certain disregard for antiquated, snobbish notions that Chester King was so keen to cling to. And if it's any different than what Chester King had in mind, that seems to be the winning ticket for a long overdue overhaul of Kingsman's values and intentions in how they serve. It also means less fieldwork which for Harry is the best option until he can bump up the results of his physical tests and continue the therapy sessions he's been having ever since he could sit up on his own again.
It's not what he expected, but it's what's best for everyone now. And frankly--he's grateful to be in any sort of position at all after everything that's happened.
They've all had a long day and for one novel evening they're actually all in the same country, let alone free at a reasonable hour, so Harry is pleased to hear his door clicking open twice and the padding footsteps first of Merlin shortly followed by Eggsy. It brings a private smile to Harry's lips as he puts on the kettle and relishes in the idea of having the company of two men he cares for so deeply in his home. It's been several years since he and Merlin decided to make good on their feelings, but he remembers a time of living alone and while it had its comforts, he much prefers this now.
"In the kitchen, Eggsy."
He squeezes a hand against Merlin's shoulder reassuringly, as apology for interrupting his weary-sounding tirade about the CIA's shortcomings and a nasty insurgent rising up in Bolivia they'll need to head off this week.
s'all good bb
Perhaps he hadn't grasped the full weight of the thing when he was 28 and ready to sign his life away for the chance to do something important, but he'd come to understand over the years. His burdens have nothing on being shot in the head and surviving to struggle through a rough recovery. His burdens are par for the course and he has accepted that. He doesn't need to be coddled, he thinks, even when his patience has worn thin and getting up in the morning has begun to require a (very) short pep talk.
There is a comfort, though, in being able to complain to Harry. Eggsy's addition to their relationship is too new for him to be quite as comfortable doing so around him, not when he has the added responsibility of being his temporary boss. Harry though, has been there through it all, wormed his way over the years past his defenses and, occasionally, it is nice to have an ear rather than simply the empty air in his office he most often found himself complaining to. The release of his frustration with the goddamn CIA hadn't made his day any easier, but a tea and a chat did have the benefit of making him feel somewhat human again.
He's leaning against the kitchen counter when Eggsy comes in, giving him a bit of a drained smile over his mug.
"I expected you to get here before me. Nimueh's not started taking her time with the debrief I hope."
no subject
Not that they wouldn't understand, if anyone would, it'd be them, but Eggsy doesn't want tonight to be out him. In fact, as long as Harry gets what he's going for without him having to say anything, he'd think it'd be good for everyone, all of Kingsman, too, if they helped ease some of Merlin's stress. A deep breath, light exhale, and then he saunters into the room, a half smirk curving his lips.
"Nah, wasn't that. Caradoc was goin' on about the pros and cons of usin' a slapper over a bridgewire. I think he's anglin' to blow somethin' up. Might wanna watch for that."
He raises a brow, half-teasing, but not really cause the senior agent had talked a good forty minutes on the subject before Eggsy could get away.
"Anyways, evenin'." Eggsy sidles up to Merlin, giving him a quick kiss to the cheek, then moving over to do the same to Harry. "What're you two up to tonight?"
And then he looks at Harry, really looks at him. Then glances at Merlin and back again. His expression says it all, what they should all really be up to tonight is each other.