[ There. It's a simple enough toast but it's still better than Eggsy could have come up with (he'd almost said 'to being alive' but 'second chances' sounds a whole lot better).
Eggsy's actually too busy watching Harry's face after their glasses have tapped together to drink his own martini, somewhat nervous even though he's sure he did everything right...
Not watching Harry spit it out and being praised by him - it gives him the weirdest adrenaline rush. He can't explain why. ] You like it? [ He quickly masks his look of relief and joy into something more smug. ] Told you.
[ He finally sips at his own martini with a pleased smile to himself. ]
What you gonna name your new dog, then? Mrs. Pickles?
[that little glimpse before eggsy corrects his expression--that's what he remembers. from fitting room three, the black prince, the tests before it all went to shit....all of it. that's the look that's so dangerous for harry, the one that has him wanting to start up those lessons so he can impart his knowledge and watch the boy's face light up every time he so much as quotes great literature with proper poignancy. it's a heady thing, not arrogance and nothing he can explain other than getting his kicks somehow. no more, no less (for now).]
Of course, I taught you--the proper way, coincidentally just the way I like it.
[someone might call that grooming under the right circumstances, but well.]
You'll get a chuckle out of this one--I had considered a Scottish terrier. Merlin.
Quite. What can I say, perhaps I'm missing our mutual friend a bit lately.
[his oldest friend, that is to say, not to mention someone in his own fucking age bracket but that's neither here nor there and not something he's about to broach with eggsy when it'll likely only earn him another ribbing about being an old geezer.
he takes another indulgent sip, lips curling around the rim of his glass and tonguing the lingering bit of gin before setting his glass back down, still an approving little twist at the corner of his mouth.]
Legend, that's a new one. I suppose there's a thing or two I've done that'll live on in infamy at HQ.
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Eggsy's actually too busy watching Harry's face after their glasses have tapped together to drink his own martini, somewhat nervous even though he's sure he did everything right...
Not watching Harry spit it out and being praised by him - it gives him the weirdest adrenaline rush. He can't explain why. ] You like it? [ He quickly masks his look of relief and joy into something more smug. ] Told you.
[ He finally sips at his own martini with a pleased smile to himself. ]
What you gonna name your new dog, then? Mrs. Pickles?
no subject
Of course, I taught you--the proper way, coincidentally just the way I like it.
[someone might call that grooming under the right circumstances, but well.]
You'll get a chuckle out of this one--I had considered a Scottish terrier. Merlin.
no subject
Harry doesn't just get a chuckle out of him, he gets belly laughter and Eggsy almost spilling his drink. ]
For real? [ Eggsy approves. He can picture Merlin's face if he were to ever find out. Priceless. ] Harry, you legend.
[ Well, now Harry has to get a Scottish terrier and call him Merlin since it amuses Eggsy so much. ]
no subject
[his oldest friend, that is to say, not to mention someone in his own fucking age bracket but that's neither here nor there and not something he's about to broach with eggsy when it'll likely only earn him another ribbing about being an old geezer.
he takes another indulgent sip, lips curling around the rim of his glass and tonguing the lingering bit of gin before setting his glass back down, still an approving little twist at the corner of his mouth.]
Legend, that's a new one. I suppose there's a thing or two I've done that'll live on in infamy at HQ.