Tag: harry/eggsy

tell us more about your whiny bratty eggsy feelings! :D

I feel like it would have started when he was ill one time and realized that a certain tone of voice would get him just anything from Harry and even a little extra pampering. 

It was good enough to make him pretend like he was still sick when in reality he felt pretty good already. He just never wanted it to stop. He always wanted to be able to roll on his side and whimper until Harry came over and started rubbing his belly; or make silent grabby hands at him and not be chastised for being too childish.

Eventually he did need to stop being sick, though, and the following two weeks were some of the worst in his life because he had just such a sudden need for being pampered and someone tending to his every need. It took him a while to realize that the special treatment wasn’t a special thing just because he was sick, but that he could have it whenever he wanted.

That he just needed to pitch his voice just so and Harry’s face would fall – well, as much as that was possible with Harry – and he would get a little special attention.

He’d get his belly rubbed (and, subsequently, if he started rocking his hips into it, his cock), he’d  get hand fed all those unhealthy treats he loved, he’d be able to stick his head beneath Harry’s sweater and rub his face against him, just as much as he liked (because Harry always smelled so fucking good)

And on one memorable, magical occasion, he even got carried upstairs; with Harry’s big, long fingered hands under his bottom, holding him – and rocking him just a little

harry will be speechless when these deft fingers massage his prostate

I like to think that that’s how Harry has to earn his keep. He makes food and looks pretty whereas Eggsy does all the other stuff around the house and then some.

I like to think that it’s how he relaxes (both of them, really) with Harry across Eggsy’s lap and those infernal fingers diving in deep and making slow, gentle love to his prostate. He’s always so relaxed and open anyway. Hole seemingly constantly ready for Eggsy in the mood to coax out all those embarrassing noises out of him.

“My good boy,” Eggsy croons and opens his legs father; gives Harry simultaneously a bigger lap to lounge on and less possibility to rub off against Eggsy’s leg. “you’re my good boy. Coming when daddy tells you to…”

He can see the tips of Harry’s ears burning but he’s not sure whether from embarrassment or lust when he does another slow circle around that plump, delicious prostate.