Chapter Text
Eggsy squinted up at the villa, or what he could see of it through the foliage of the front garden. “Is this it?” he asked, bringing a hand up to shade his eyes from the brightness of the afternoon sun.
“Yes,” Harry affirmed. “The Seville home of Señor Guillermo Ruíz. Rumor says he's planning a coup since the royal family was killed during V-Day. He's also suspected to have ties to various terrorist groups.”
“Right,” said Eggsy. “So we gotta do a bit of recon, yeah? Don't look like anybody's home.”
“Of course it doesn't,” Harry replied. “It's three o'clock in the afternoon. Everyone except us is taking siesta.”
“Good,” said Eggsy. “That means we can sneak a closer look if we're quiet.” He carefully lifted the latch to the garden gate and opened it enough so he could slide through. “Come on,” he whispered after a moment. “Coast looks pretty clear.”
“Because you can see through all the trees, can you?” Harry asked dryly as he slipped through the gate behind Eggsy.
“This is really nice,” Eggsy declared. “This garden, I mean. It's so pretty.”
“I'm glad you think so,” came a deep voice from off to the side, and Eggsy and Harry both whipped around to see a man about Harry's age, with thick dark hair streaked with silver and dressed in a cream linen suit, watching them, his dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why are you trespassing on my property?”
“Nos disculpamos, señor,” said Harry smoothly, resting one hand on Eggsy's shoulder while the other hovered near the gun at his side.
“We're so sorry!” Eggsy blurted before Harry could say any more. “I thought this was just a garden! The gate was open, and my Spanish is abysmal, you see. It's so beautiful, I made William stop for a look around.” He wrapped an arm around Harry's waist and snuggled into him. Harry looked down at Eggsy, brow furrowing slightly, before relaxing and letting the hand on Eggsy's shoulder drift down his back to rest on his hip.
“We have established that my garden is lovely,” the man—Guillermo Ruíz, Eggsy presumed—said evenly. “Now I want to know why you gentlemen think you can be in here.”
“I was hoping we could use it for our ceremony,” said Eggsy hastily. “William wanted so much to have the wedding here in Seville, it's our very favorite city; and we were just having a walk around and we saw this garden and I said to William, 'this would be perfect!'” He turned to Harry. “Didn't I say that, love?”
“Took the words right out of my mouth, my darling,” Harry replied, curling his hand a little tighter around Eggsy's hip and giving him a we'll talk about this later look. He looked back at Ruíz. “My Edward is such an impulsive creature,” he explained with an apologetic shrug. “I have such trouble with him.”
“Yes, I know how that is,” said Ruíz, with an understanding smile. “My Isabela is just the same way. So young and beautiful and spontaneous.”
“Quite so,” agreed Harry. “But they're worth it, wouldn't you agree?” He smiled lovingly down at Eggsy, who beamed back, pointedly ignoring the way his heart stuttered at the warmth in Harry's eyes and voice.
"Ah, yes," sighed Ruíz. "I would not trade my esposita for anything."
"Nor I my dear Edward," Harry declared, pressing a kiss to Eggsy's temple.
"You're too sweet, William," Eggsy murmured as he felt his face flush.
“Well, then,” said Ruíz, smile wide as he ran his hands along his lapels. “It is settled.”
“What is?” asked Eggsy.
“You two love my little jardín. The one I had planted out of love for my Isabela. I insist you have your ceremony here. It is the perfect place for you to declare your love. And we will handle everything.”
“Oh, we couldn't,” Harry protested, his grip on Eggsy tightening surreptitiously.
“I insist,” Ruíz countered, his eyes narrowing. “You wouldn't want to disappoint your little Eduardo, would you?”
“Of course he wouldn't,” Eggsy cooed, placing his hand over Harry's at his hip, rubbing soothingly in an attempt to loosen Harry's fingers digging into his skin. “My William would never do that, but we would never dream of placing all the trouble of planning our wedding on you and your dear wife.”
“My wife would insist, as I do,” said Ruíz. “She adores love stories and I feel yours is quite a tale. It would be our honor to do this for you.”
“We are only in Spain for another week or two,” said Harry. “It would be such an imposition.”
“It can be done,” Ruíz said stubbornly. “I know everybody in Seville. Now you will come into the house for a café and to meet my Isabela, and we will talk about your wedding.”
A week later, Eggsy and Harry stood in front of a handful of Seville's most powerful and dangerous men. Ruíz had insisted on inviting his most trusted associates to meet his new English friends, and claimed the wedding was the perfect time. Harry was quite satisfied that this was all turning out well, as they couldn't have asked for a better time to strike than with all of Ruíz's cohorts in one place.
Eggsy tried not to panic at the realization that he was about to marry Harry. Well, okay, Edward was marrying William, but still. He forcefully shoved down the part of himself that wished that this was real; he couldn't let his silly little crush on Harry ruin the friendship they'd managed to achieve in the months since Harry had returned from Kentucky, alive and with only a fierce scar over his left eye as a souvenir of his near-death experience.
Eggsy stood quietly next to Harry, facing an official who had agreed to perform the ceremony for them (Eggsy privately wondered whether it had been money or threats that had “convinced” the man), and tried very hard not to think about how nice Harry looked in the suit Isabela had ordered for him. Judging by the little glances Harry kept sending him, Eggsy supposed he looked pretty good in his suit, too, and he tried not to preen. Or to think too much of it; after all, their covers were in love. For all he knew, these little glances were William checking out Edward, as would be expected on their wedding day. It didn't mean Harry would check out Eggsy.
Eggsy wasn't quite sure exactly what was happening, as the ceremony was performed in rapid Spanish, but he nodded and said Sí when Harry nudged him, and slid the ring onto Harry's finger when Isabela pressed the gold band into his hand.
“You are family now,” Isabela declared warmly once the ceremony was over, kissing Eggsy, then Harry, on the cheek.
At that moment, their backup from Interpol descended, sending the gathering into chaos as Ruíz and his men dove for the house to collect their weapons, left behind at Isabela's insistence that a wedding was no place for guns.
“I somehow think we've made ourselves the black sheep,” Harry murmured as he and Eggsy ran from the gunfire and to their extraction point.
“Any particular reason why you chose to make us lovers when Ruíz confronted us in the garden?” asked Harry later, as they made their way back to England on the Kingsman jet.
Eggsy shrugged. “Was the first thing that popped into my head?”
“So you hadn't researched Ruíz and realized he was a newlywed with a much younger wife, and might sympathize with us if we were a similar couple?”
“Nope,” Eggsy shook his head. “Just lucky that way.”
“Indeed,” Harry agreed as he worked the gold band off his finger. “It worked for us this time, but I certainly hope this impulse to pretend you and your partner are lovers won't become a habit.”
“Of course not,” Eggsy said, his feelings still a confused tangle in his mind. “It won't. I promise.”