HUES TRAINED TO HARTflick downwards, furrowed brow casted to calloused hands clasped together. (HE’D BEEN THERE )remembrance of the unbearable weight of guilt comes back in waves ––––––– restricting chest, restricting breaths ––––––– thoughts of it should’ve been me a burn in his throat. but steeled jaw & white - knuckled fists don’t allow for the welling of tears, especially not in front of galahad. gaze is forced back to the older man, focus on the nothing conveyed through irises. ❝ –––––––– well, somebodydid, ❞ abrupt, & maybe a little insensitive / unwilling of expression, ❝ or else y’wouldn’t be here, livin’ to talk m’ear off about it. ❞
HE’S MIFFED JUST TO GRAPPLE with what disrespect’s seeping down in the very makeup of what the sum of his parts had always added up to ; it’s not about Whiskey, and Harry’s letting the words roll themselves ‘round & ‘round behind that blackened lens, eyes that’d be rolling had he both left, it isn’t about Whiskey, it’s about HE HIMSELF EARNING every last ounce of doubtful hesitation off falling flat on his arse or restraining a hand itching to wave away things that only he could see. “ we don’t, usually. ” dryness turns earnest — too earnest, Harry locks his fingers together & tilts his head to look somewhere else. “ i don’t usually. ”
FALTERING MOMENT / UNCERTAINTY of whether or not the conversation has fled from its original point of namesakes, whether he should be listening just a little bit closer to the words strung up in sentences leaving butterfly guy’s mouth. lips purse, thinning in brief contemplation: watching the older man with an inspection close to interrogation, however derived of ill intent it was intended. ❝ ––––––– & i think jack daniels is a shit whiskey. ❞ softer timbre reverberates, reserved for a select few. ❝ guess our names don’t mean much, huh ? ❞
JACK MAKES HIS PRESENCE KNOWN, AND JACK keeps it so; perhaps more to do with the fuzzy edges occasionally come to blur Harry’s concentration, having cushioned so much for so long that the stark resurgence of having somebody to CONSIDER had shot through with no lack of startling fervency. “ can’t possibly be your real name, ” had come muttered, hands listlessly brushing stray dog hair off the front of that (ADMITTEDLY HEINOUS ) suede coat and regarding this bureaucratic cowboy with a tilted head, “ jack daniels? ” incredulous, critical ——– giving no hint of awareness that HARRY HART hardly sat much higher for sensible namesakes.
❝ REAL AS THAT coat ya’ wearing, old man. ❞ an offhand comment, derived from the same vein of tone as harry’s & a place just a notch below disrespect. galahad senior is studied with arms folded across his chest, chin jutted out & upwards in the slightest fashion of pride / blithe. having been subjected to such teasing ( harmless, mostly ) for the duration of his life, the remark is felt about as much as an alarmclock on a saturday morning –––– but the desire to prod right back is far too great to restrain. ❝ what about you ? didn’t think y’brits had emotions, let alone harts. ❞
“ SADLY NOT THAT SIMPLE, none of this is what i really…really want. although if you DO get with my friends, i’d be more inclined to wear a face less like a bag of smashed crabs. ”
IT TAKES HIM a moment to decipher what harry’s said ––– past the accent& the metaphors. ❝ –––– did’ya just call me ugly ? ❞
❝ Y’MEAN IT WASN’T love at first sight ? ❞ teasing is jack’s tone, voice edging into laughter. however, the quiet sentiment is not lost on him & to be told he is loved, truly, is not a laughing matter. so laugh resolves into a soft smile, arm lifted to rest ‘round the other’s shoulders in a gentle effort to pull harry a bit closer, voice hushed ( refraining from the desire to call him, lovingly, a sappy old bastard), ❝ i love you, too. ❞
“ THE QUEEN. OBVIOUSLY. she, and the late shambles of what once were the prestigious Spice Girl clan aptly narrate my every life’s decision ; am i speaking your language yet ? ”
❝ THE SPICE GIRLS ? y’ mean to tellme that’s what ya’ want ––– what ya’ really, really want ? y’ continue to surprise me, harry. ❞
i. ACCIDENTS NEVER MAKEfor good first kisses. teeth clash, lips stumble, it’s a rough grasp led to from the briefest of shocks – & most of all, it’s embarrassing. jack’s rushing out of the room in unbridled haste may have been a bad idea, as the unsuspecting victim waltzed into the room at the exact moment jack was taking his leave. bodies collided, mouths met, &now, they rest in a vaguely unsure, far too intimate caress before an extraordinarily curious audience. all eyes, both those shrouded behind kingsman glasses & those hidden beneath the brim of a statesman’s hat, fall to the fumbling pair, with their lips connected by chance. calloused digits come to palm at harry’s bespoke shoulder, a soft push given to break away from the gentle grip the older gentleman had around jack’s waist. a glance climbs upwards to gauge his reaction, to search within brown irises and determine his next move. hart was stunned into silence, & jack received an unknowing kiss for good luck. claramente, a happy accident.
ii. THE DRIVE TO therestaurant was an uneventful ride. with the quiet ambience of faint notes filing out from the speakers & the pitter patter of the rain falling on the roof of the car, jack’s attention split between the road& the man in his passenger seat, whose gaze was focused on peering between raindrops out the window. mild conversation is made between songs, but it was a silencefar from uncomfortable. even as wheels slow& stop, little else is said than jack’s mumbled ‘ stay here. ’he steps out of the car with non - lethal umbrella unfurled & makes his way ‘round to the opposite side, nylon canopy protecting his date from the rain. whiskey opens the door for him, like a gentleman, & takes harry’s hand in his ––– if only to press a kiss to his skin. it earns jack a smile, & a fairly british : ❝ you certainly know how to treat a lady. ❞
❝ I DON’T CAREif y’ don’t believe me. ❞ ricochet sounds behind them, smoking pistol upright in a tight grasp. hart’s only given a quick, hard gaze, derived of stress& frustration, & just as it’s received, it’s stolen away again to the scene unfolding behind the pair. faith is not easily won with the kingsman, &certainty is even harder to guarantee. ❝ but we ain’t got a lotta other options, harry. ––– so do y’ trust me or not ? ❞
