Kingsman Harry Hart & Eggsy Unwin (hinted slash, squint and you’ll miss it)
SAFE
Challenge B.A.G.N.O. - prompt: british
Wordcount: 919
Eggsy leans on the chair in the studio, putting his feet on the desk perfectly knowing it’s something that drives Harry mad.
“Could you please refrain?” Harry asks on cue, handing him a perfect martini, and Eggsy would think nothing more of it, except Harry has that hard edge in his voice that promises to spank him if he doesn’t behave - just what he was looking for. Eggsy smiles, cheeky, as angelically as he can, and makes a show of taking back his feet as he sips the drink.
“So, what’s the Sun front-page today? The installment of a new chemical toilet in Regent’s Park?” he asks and suddenly Harry sobers to business. Right, Eggsy hasn’t been called in the studio to flirt, he should focus.
Harry sighs, rubbing his temples. “I wish.”
“Uh?” That perks up his attention enough for him to straighten his spine.
“They’re making a movie out of V-day.”
“Another one?” Eggsy frowns, because this would be like, what? The three-hundredth film about it. What has Harry so distraught?
“Yes, but this one isn’t something tragic about two lovers killing each other or not knowing if the other has died…”
“Not really my type of movies. I’ve seen one once were the son killed the mother in the first five minutes and then spent three hours figuring out if he should kill himself or try to cope with his guilt - ugh, most boring shit I’ve ever seen.”
“Well, this one is a spy story,” Harry interrupts his ramblings.
“A… spy story?”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean, a spy story?”
Harry sits at his chair, more like drops on it - and Arthur’s role must be really taking a toll on him, to make him forget his gentleman’s manner, even if it’s only in front of Eggsy.
“Apparently some weird guy wondered about… things and since no one knew the truth, he made it up. I’ve bought his book this morning, in the preface he said he wrote it because he couldn’t stop wondering who killed Valentine and saved the world. The official version is that Valentine couldn’t face the killing spree he had put up so he interrupted it and killed himself out of guilt, but…”
“The guy didn’t buy it.”
“No. He thought it must have been some conspiracy theory, something along the lines of Kennedy’s assassination…”
“I mean, he’s not wrong, is he? Valentine didn’t really killed himself.”
Harry doesn’t “…So he wrote about some secret agency stopping a rich guy who wanted to save the world but had his ethics and morals crossed, some Valentine Richardson. He wanted to put the real name and the organization would have been MI6 because the author is from Glasgows, but then the editor pressed him to change the names to avoid legal drama.”
“So?”
“So he made up an entire spy agency from nothing and… it’s uncannily similar to Kingsman.”
“Woah, shit. So the guy wrote a book about us?”
“Basically… yes. There are no Arthurian code names, but… Well, there’s a very British, James Bond like spy that discovers Valentine’s plan, but then he gets delayed by a bullet and when he recovers enough it’s too late and he has to contain the damages.”
“Do you think we had a breach?”
“No. No Mr. Armond has really a good imagination. The book is something between Ian Fleming and the Eye of the Needle. And he took a lot of shit for it, especially from social media, people accused him of speculating over a tragedy, they said it was too early. There were some enthusiastic, though, and since bad advertising is still advertising someone decided to ride the wave and produce a movie out of it.”
“It doesn’t seem too bad. I mean, it’s unlucky, but it’s not like it’s official news, it’s still fiction. More over it will discredit it as a theory, if it’s just some book plot. It would be like hiding in plain sight.”
“It’s called All the King’s Men,” Harry doesn’t whine, because he’s too posh to do it, but he downs his martini in a single swallow anyway.
Eggsy almost chokes on his own, the ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ dying on his lips. But of course, Harry isn’t joking, so there’s no need to ask it.
“Well, who do you think is gonna play you?” Eggsy goes for, instead.
“What?! I -”
“Oh, come on, man. Who do you think will play you?”
“I am not gonna be in that movie. Neither are you. It’s not that accurate.”
“Humor me.”
“Pierce Brosnan?” He tries, but Eggsy laughs at it. “Not your choice I take it.”
“No, no, too rough. Besides, you’re just choosing him because he has already played James Bond.”
“And pray tell me, who should play me, then?”
“Colin Firth,” Eggsy replies without missing a beat.
“Colin Firth?”
“Well, yes. It’s practically your look alike. And besides, there’s no one more posh and gentlemanly and British than Colin Firth.”
Harry looks about to object, but then thinks better of it. He’s not gonna win against Eggsy on this.
“I will be content enough if you don’t get played by one of the Hemsworth’s brothers.”
“What do you have against the Hemsworths?”
“Thor 2.”
Eggsy groans.
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