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Eggsy’s never done this before - or, to be clear, he’s never had this done to him - so he’s unsure and a little hesitant as Harry settles behind him on the bed. He’s naked already, flushed with a nervous excitement and arousal that’s mixing in his belly, a heady combination as Harry trails a comforting hand down his spine to the small of his back. He shivers as Harry nudges his knees apart and sits between them, squeezing one of the cheeks of his arse as he arranges Eggsy just as he wants him.
“If this turns out to be something that isn’t to your liking,” Harry says, stroking along the skin of Eggsy’s thighs in a way that makes his breath hitch, “you only need to say, my dear.”
Eggsy would duck his head to hide the way his ears and cheeks are reddening, but Harry’s a stickler about this - about absolutely ensuring Eggsy’s comfort and pleasure. So he holds Harry’s gaze despite the way his face heats and he nods, swallowing around the lump in his throat.
“I know, Harry,” he says, voice rough from the enthusiastic snogging they’d already partaken in. He is excited, he is, desire thrumming in his veins; but this - it’s just -
Harry’s hands roam lower, until his warm palms are covering Eggsy's bum almost completely, and he briefly massages the muscle with his fingers. But then he uses his thumbs to spread the cheeks of Eggsy's arse and bare his hole to the cool air, and Eggsy can’t help but rest his forehead on the duvet below him. His hips twitch and he makes an effort to keep them still, his stiff cock hardening again in anticipation.
He feels Harry moving behind him, leaning forward enough to rest his elbows on the mattress on either side of Eggsy's hips; his breath ghosts hotly over Eggsy's bare skin as he leans in, raising goosebumps in its wake. Eggsy licks his kiss-swollen lips, hyper-aware of everywhere Harry's touching him, waiting for Harry to do something as the moment trickles by honey-slow - and he's about to ask Harry if he really needs a written invitation to his arse when Harry leans in and licks a broad stripe from taint to tailbone, straight across his hole.
Eggsy gasps, as much in surprise as in reaction to the feeling of Harry's tongue there. It's hot and slick and all too fleeting, and the wetness on Eggsy's skin quickly cools to the air. A shiver runs down his spine as Harry moves to the side to kiss and bite at the flesh of his arse, mouthing one cheek and then the other before diving between them again.
Harry’s nose is cool where it’s pressed against him, a contrast to the burning warmth of his tongue; he laps, cat-like, at the sensitive flesh of Eggsy’s hole, and Eggsy squirms at the sensation, hips twitching. He can’t help the way he shudders, full-bodied, when the flat of Harry’s tongue comes to rest across his hole and Harry groans deep in his chest, like he’s enjoying it as much as Eggsy is. Because oh, he is enjoying it - the wet, slick heat of Harry’s mouth, the precision with which he quickly narrows in on exactly what makes Eggsy’s breath stutter, the waves of sensation and how dirty, filthy hot it is to know it’s Harry’s mouth on his arse, fucking Christ.
Harry pulls away and Eggsy hums at the loss of contact, the muscles of his arse flexing as he grinds into the sheets. His cock is starting to leak, precome beading at the tip and smearing on his belly, on the sheet beneath him, wet and messy. He makes inching little movements, seeking any sort of friction as Harry rearranges his hands on Eggsy's arse, patient as can be.
Harry drags a thumb inward, spreading the wetness from his mouth up and down the crack of Eggsy's arse, letting the rough pad of his finger catch on the twitching, sensitive rim. Eggsy arches, gasping, at the feel of the blunt, calloused tip of Harry's thumb, barely pressing inwards before it's gone all too quickly - only to be replaced by Harry's mouth.
Harry licks him open, tongue sliding torturously slow one moment and then darting, flicking against him the next, a constant barrage of sensation. A low whine builds in Eggsy's throat, and he’s on the edge of keening as Harry plays with him, blows across his swollen hole when he pauses for a breath. It’s obscene, how Eggsy can feel himself tense and twitch, muscle clenching around nothing as he aches for the return of Harry’s mouth on him.
“Enjoying yourself, then?” Harry says, voice roughened with desire, and Eggsy moans. He feels Harry’s every exhale against him, and Harry’s panting too - though not nearly to the point Eggsy is, chest heaving and back starting to shine with a layer of sweat.
“Fuck,” Eggsy gasps, tremors starting in the muscles in the backs of his thighs as Harry pets his damp skin, gentle in contrast to the fervent attention he’s been giving Eggsy’s arse. He fully intends to reply to Harry, but Harry takes the opportunity to nose between his cheeks again, tensing his tongue into a point and wriggling it inside him, just barely, just the hot wet tip of him -
“Oh, fuck,” Eggsy groans, again, dragging out the vowel and arching his back, pressing himself further into the bed and further against Harry’s tongue. He pants open-mouthed as Harry pulls out and then slips his tongue against the trembling pucker of his hole, pausing only to wet his tongue once more before pressing inwards, deeper this time, a searing wet slide that has Eggsy biting his lip and moaning in pleasure behind his gritted teeth.
“Come now,” Harry chastises gently, taking his time with the words just as he’s taking his time painting broad, slow strokes up and down Eggsy’s arse, back and forth across his hole. “Let me hear how much you’re enjoying this.”
“Bloody fuck, Harry,” Eggsy manages to get out, breathless with the intoxicating sensations. His fingers flex in the sheets below him, but even the pillow under his cheek isn’t nearly as soft as the burning, slippery glide of Harry’s tongue against him. Eggsy knows what he must look like - he can feel the way his cheeks are hot, flushed from pleasure, and his cock is thick and swollen underneath him - he must look like quite the tart, his arse in the air and spread for Harry like this. The image he must make - Eggsy shivers at the thought, rocking his hips into the mattress and back into Harry’s mouth, building a languid rhythm that makes his stomach clench with delicious tension.
But then on the back-stroke Harry stiffens his tongue again - Eggsy nearly sobs when he shifts back and is fucking himself on Harry’s tongue, pushing as far as he can to get as much of it inside him. Harry’s nose is mashed inelegantly against the swell of his arse but Eggsy doesn’t care, chases the pleasure with each arch of his hips. Harry’s breaths come in moist, hot gusts against him - this is doing as much for Harry as it is for him, Eggsy realizes. Harry’s fingers flex in the meat of his arse, kneading the muscle in time with his tongue piercing Eggsy, hot like a brand and sloppy-slick.
There’s a filthy, wet feeling against his skin as Harry’s spit dribbles down his arse and drips onto the base of his balls - and just knowing how messy and drenched he is, how puffy and pink his hole must be getting under Harry’s attention, shiny and twitching - just knowing it makes Eggsy’s cock throb all the harder.
He moans, half-muffled by the pillow as he tosses his head side to side, lost it the feel of Harry’s mouth, and Harry chuckles behind him.
“You could come from just this,” Harry says, and it’s not quite a question - it’s the first time they’ve done this, but Harry can read the signs of his body like a fucking magazine, he’s well-versed enough in making Eggsy come and beg for it while doing so that he can see it in the bend in Eggsy’s spine, the heaving of his chest and bright flush on his face. Eggsy hears the smirk in Harry’s voice, and doesn’t deny it - just whines and hitches his hips, wordlessly asking for Harry to shut up and get back to it.
Harry does.
He leaves little nips on Eggsy’s arse, catching the flesh between his teeth but not biting hard - just enough so it stings for a moment and pinkens before moving on. He laves over the marks, licking so Eggsy’s skin is slick and sensitive to every touch, leaving a glistening trail in his wake. But it’s all build-up, all just an introduction to what Harry does next - Eggsy can feel him getting closer and closer to his hole again, and he’s already unconsciously clenching and releasing in anticipation of Harry’s tongue, the slippery heat of him.
Harry anchors the heels of his hands just where the damp curve of Eggsy’s arse meets his thighs, and spreads him again with heated reverence. Eggsy nearly squirms under the unwavering intensity of Harry’s gaze, breath hitching in his chest when there’s a hollow, wet noise and then a soft pop - and then a spit-slicked fingertip teases at his entrance. Harry teases a circle around it, outlining the fluttering rim of his hole with the pad of his finger, spiraling closer and closer but not yet touching exactly where Eggsy wants.
“Harry,” Eggsy groans, trying and failing to move his hips - Harry’s got him in a secure grip that prevents him from arching. Harry huffs a laugh and moves his elbows so they’re knocking Eggsy’s knees further apart on the bed, leaving him even further spread wide.
Eggsy moans hoarsely, and Harry hums, smoothing a hand along the sweaty dip of the small of his back. It doesn’t do much to stop the gentle twitching tremors in his muscles, but the touch radiates stability, caring - Harry won’t tease him endlessly, just as much as he needs to get off in an absolutely mind-blowing manner. Harry won’t settle for anything less.
Harry’s finger leaves his skin momentarily as Harry wets it again, but then it finally, finally makes contact with the quivering furl of his hole. It’s a little cool against him; Eggsy’s whole body feels flush and ripe, pulse throbbing with desire and bow-tight tension. He nudges inwards, playing with the puffy, nearly-pliant ring of muscle, dipping his finger further inwards at Eggsy’s encouraging groans.
“Beautiful,” Harry murmurs, starting up a languorous pace of thrusting his finger in and out, letting him get used to the intrusion and open up further. The stretch is like a loosening knot; Eggsy breathes into it, relishes in the way his body clings at Harry’s finger at every withdrawal, greedy for him. He licks his lips, knowing that Harry’s watching it - his finger disappearing into the hot clutch of Eggsy’s arse, how the rim swallows him and twitches, sensitive, at the rough drag of his fingertip against it when he pulls out.
“I can take another,” Eggsy says, licking sweat off his upper lip as Harry thrusts in, a smooth, unhurried stroke.
Harry’s smiling lips press against him in a brief kiss at the base of his spine. “I know you can,” Harry replies, amused even with his voice gravelly with need, “but that’s not what I’m going to give you, my dear.”
Eggsy’s about to protest when the air leaves his lungs in a rush, sensation overwhelming his hyper-sensitive nerves - because Harry’s bent in to lap at his hole where it’s stretched around the base of his finger.
The moan that rips through him is a visceral thing, nearly animal - he keens, unable to keep still at the dual stimulation of Harry’s mouth and hands, the blunt weight of penetration coupled with the slippery-wet sweep of Harry’s tongue. The contact is heady, and the tension knotting in his gut drops lower as Harry doesn’t let up, doesn’t let Eggsy squirm or rock into his ministrations. And it’s nearly maddening; Eggsy’s pulse hammers in his throat, radiates from his toes to his fingertips as his body responds to Harry’s every attention, as Harry plays him to a dizzying crescendo.
Harry’s long finger isn’t nearly enough, but it’s something to clench down on since he can’t buck his hips; the shivers that run down his spine and the way his hole twitches, greedy and slick, are involuntary. As if sensing what Eggsy needs, Harry withdraws his finger only to push two against his rim, tongue still working as he teases another wave of tremors out of Eggsy's body.
Eggsy flushes hot and then cold in sweeping, full-bodied waves, blood rising to his skin in a bright blush that heats him to his core and makes him pant, damp, into the pillow. He can feel himself drooling, and isn’t that just - Eggsy moans as Harry wriggles his tongue next to his fingers, laps around them to drag his tongue along the furled edges of Eggsy’s hole. He’s wet from both ends, his own mouth leaking against his forearm where it’s bent underneath him, lips wet from his open-mouthed moaning - and his arse liberally spit-slicked from Harry eating him out, enthusiasm wavering not for a moment even though he must be getting tired. It’s just intoxicating, that’s what it is - the potent feel of Harry’s mouth on his arse, fingers deftly thrusting in and out in a sinful drag that makes him groan.
It may not be with his cock, but Harry’s fucking him raw; Eggsy’s eyes are squeezed shut but Harry’s tongue is a bright point of sensation behind his eyes, every touch electric and filthy-wet. Harry pushes his fingers in again, parting them just enough so he can slip his tongue between them, and Eggsy whines, low in this aching throat. His jaw clicks as he clenches it shut, hands fisted in the sheets as he breathes through his teeth, riding the sensation of Harry fucking into him with his tongue. He’s speared on it, on the blunt length of his fingers, arse fluttering around them erratically as Harry teases him towards the brink.
Eggsy releases one hand from his white-knuckled, claw-like grip on the sheets to trail it down his body, sliding down the sweat-soaked planes of his chest and belly - but Harry’s other hand reaches around and bats his arm away before Eggsy can touch his own cock.
“Not yet,” Harry breathes against him, so deep and rough that it makes Eggsy shiver and then moan as Harry rewards his patience with more open-mouthed kisses at his swollen rim, pistoning his fingers a little faster, now. Eggsy shudders, lets his shoulders sag into it even though his back is arched, taut like a bowstring, pushing his arse further into the air for Harry’s pleasure. Harry hums and the vibrations travel the length of his tongue, pressed deep into Eggsy as it is, sending white-hot sparks down Eggsy’s spine.
Harry dips his fingers inside him again, chasing his knuckles with his tongue, and with the change in angle pushes even deeper than before. Eggsy moans wordlessly, throat long and exposed and flushed as he tilts his head back. The drag of his stiff nipples, tender from the minute motions and friction of the damp sheets, sends another rush of heat to his groin and his balls start to draw up, tension in his muscles burning as he swallows, gulps down air like a man drowning.
And then - with his long, gorgeous fingers already past the knuckle inside Eggsy’s arse, Harry skims the pads of his fingers across Eggsy’s prostate, probing but gentle, feather-light.
Eggsy sobs. He clenches down on Harry’s fingers, his body desperate to keep him inside as he’s instantly, dizzyingly on the knife-edge of orgasm, chest heaving and the muscles of his thighs twitching arhythmically with the overload of sensation. He bites his lip, and aborted movement because he can’t keep his mouth closed; he hears the whine building from his throat as if he’s not making the noise himself. The blood rushing in his ears is almost deafening, and Harry doesn’t let up for a moment.
He thrusts his fingers in and out, the slick squelch of them obscene as he unerringly finds Eggsy’s prostate, now, glides over the sensitive bundle of nerves on every inward and outward stroke, increasing in tempo as Eggsy thrashes his head side to side, nearly mindless as he’s overtaken by orgasm. Harry moans as he works him, and pushes his tongue in with his fingers on one final, rough thrust, and Eggsy tips into orgasm in a blinding rush.
His body clenches down and Harry rides him through it, petting his hip as Eggsy bucks against him and fucks himself on his mouth for a few more stuttered strokes. Long, wordless vowels fall out of his mouth, thick pulses of come coating his belly and cock as the waves wrack through him, leaving him quivering and tender.
Harry pulls away as if reluctant, and Eggsy makes a soft noise of loss when his fingers pop free of his arse with a slick noise. He feels sloppy and loose, boneless and hypersensitive; sweat drips from the nape of his neck down his back, and Harry runs his fingers through it, down the length of his spine, smoothing down Eggsy’s skin to tame the errant shivers.
He’s got enough energy to wipe his drooling mouth on the back of his hand before he looks over his shoulder at Harry, blinking as he swallows, slowly returning to a state where he can once again form words.
“Fuck, Harry,” he slurs, voice gravelly and raw, and Harry’s eyes flick up to his, almost surprised - he hadn’t taken his eyes or hands off Eggsy’s arse, watching as his pink, puffy hole twitches through the aftershocks.
Harry sits up and Eggsy boggles - Harry’s cock is still proud and hard against his belly, nearly an angry red and glistening from precome - but he hasn’t come yet. The sight makes something coil inside him again - or, well, attempt to coil. He feels more wrung out than he’d been after the week of celebratory sex they’d had when Harry had returned from the grave, so there’s no way he’s getting it up again, but - Jesus. Harry’s restraint is something to be marveled at, but it’s absolutely unnecessary.
“Eggsy,” Harry pants, sweat beading his forehead and face obscenely slick all the way down his chin. “I take it that was good, for you.”
“Christ, Harry,” Eggsy gasps, “C’mon, just - do it, fuck.”
Harry doesn’t need to be told twice; he slants forward, bracing one hand on the bed by Eggsy’s hip and using the other to guide his cock towards Eggsy’s arse, groaning when he finally makes contact. Eggsy hums, wiggling back and forth a little as Harry cups one cheek, rocking his hips to slide his cock against the wet crease of his arse. He’s still quite sensitive, and the feel of Harry’s cock is exquisite, all blood-hot and throbbing as he ruts against Eggsy’s hole.
He’s already sloppy-wet but the precome Harry’s liberally leaking adds to the filthy, messy slide of them together; Eggsy can’t help it when his breath hitches as the crown of Harry’s cock catches on the swollen, loose rim of his hole, and Harry groans above him. It’s a strain on his shoulder but he has to watch, loves watching as Harry falls apart - it doesn’t take long, since eating Eggsy out apparently does a lot for Harry - but he’s gorgeous like this. Eggsy relishes the heat of him, the heavy weight of his cock thrusting between his cheeks and across his hole, letting the tremors wash over him when Harry grinds down particularly hard. And Harry’s watching, watching as he frots against the glistening crack of Eggsy’s arse, pink from Harry’s deft ministrations, wet from the attention of his mouth-
“Harry,” Eggsy murmurs, and Harry’s eyes snap to his face, down to the bitten-red curve of his lower lip. “Come for me, Harry, come on, just like this, fuck-”
“Eggsy,” Harry moans, letting his jaw drop open as he shudders, eyes dark with pupils blown wide, “Eggsy, I’m-”
“Yes, Harry-”
Harry thrust against him once, twice more, and then jerks, tilting his hips and sliding his cock down at the last moment so that he comes across Eggsy’s hole in hot spurts. He twitches, almost violently as orgasm overtakes him, chasing the sensation by rocking through the slick, come coating his cock and glazing Eggsy’s hole, dirty and dripping. Eggsy groans low in his chest at the sensation, arse flexing as Harry rides it out, slowing his thrusts until he collapses over the curve of Eggsy’s body, pressing his chest to Eggsy’s cooling back.
It takes a few moments for Harry to get his breath back; the droop of his damp hair tickles Eggsy’s shoulder, but he smiles - especially when Harry regains himself and presses kisses along the arch of his neck, behind his ear, and then down again to where his neck and shoulder meet.
“Bollocks to whether I like it or not,” Eggsy murmurs, grinning at how hoarse his voice has become, “clearly that does something for you.”
“Hmm,” Harry hums, but he doesn’t deny it. He shifts his hips, enough to make Eggsy squirm underneath him - the come between them is cooling, and it’ll leave quite the sticky mess in its wake. And that’s nothing to say about the sheets underneath Eggsy, for that matter.
“But you did like it,” Harry says, sucking a gentle hickey onto the back of Eggsy’s neck, just where it will flirt with the collar of Eggsy’s suit-jacket, barely visible but undeniably there. Eggsy tips his head back far enough so Harry will kiss him properly, and smiles bright and open when they part.
“Of course I fucking liked it, are you kidding?” Eggsy stretches, loose-limbed and satisfied, as Harry smooths a hand down to his hip. “Haven’t come untouched like that in a while; well done, you.”
Harry grins and moves off of him just enough so that he can flip Eggsy onto his back, laughing, and then settles on top of him again, a warm weight that feels perfect after the mind-numbing orgasms they’ve just shared. There’s a comfortable shared laziness, post-sex, that Eggsy wouldn’t trade for the world - though it does mean the mess between them will be worse to clean, in about an hour’s time.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Harry replies, leaning up on his elbows so he can look down into Eggsy’s eyes. “It does rather do something for me, though I admit that it’s as much about you as it is the act.”
Eggsy smiles, poking Harry in the side. “Soft, you is.”
“Shan’t be, soon,” Harry quips, “if you keep wriggling like that.”
“‘m sorry, are you sensitive right now?” Eggsy smirks, “because I don’t think you were the one who had his arse eaten for an hour this evening, and wasn’t allowed to touch his own cock, ta very much.”
“Cheeky,” Harry raises his eyebrows, “If you’re complaining, by no means do I have to do it again.”
“Oh, you will,” Eggsy says with confidence, grinning at Harry’s fondly exasperated expression, “I think both of us enjoyed it too much to not want to do that again.”
“Quite right you are,” Harry sighs, and leans in to kiss him again, soft and tender.
“Although,” Eggsy continues when they part, “Perhaps next time I’ll be the one to eat you, aye? Let you be the one to come untouched, drive you mad with my mouth.”
“You already do that, darling,” Harry snorts, and Eggsy laughs.
“You might let me try, at least,” he says, running a hand through Harry’s hair to cup his cheek, to feel the smile against the palm of his hand as Harry grins down at him. “There’s a first time for everything."