Hidden Gems || Hartwin

Thursday

Author notes: I'm the original writer of this fic, and I posted it to my Ao3 account on the 4th of April of this year. The graphics (both banners and cover) are also of my creation. It would be nice if no one stole my story, as it is completely original and only uses the Kingsman movies as a setting.

If you want to contact me, my tumblr is: https://renaissancewasbetter.tumblr.com

Harry Hart might not have been the most technologically advanced spy in the world – or even in the British Islands, for that matter, and Merlin would've never stopped making fun of him for typing with his pointer –, but he indeed checked his emails at least every two days, and always made sure to delete all what he didn't care for.

It had to be said that, since he didn't have friends nor family members who wrote him, the whole process was fairly quick and easy. All what he had to be sure to keep were the mails containing his missions details, and those had all been sent by Merlin.

So he was indeed surprised when, on Thursday afternoon, right after lunch, he found a new email that had been sent by a site named Hidden Gems and whose title was 'Thank you for your purchase!'.

The missions he had been through in the last months had been hard on him, both physically and mentally, but he couldn't recall hitting his head hard enough to forget the actions that he committed, nor to commit actions he wasn't used to. So, his brow furrowed and his eyebrows met in the middle, eyes squinting as if he couldn't properly read what was written on the screen even if he was wearing his glasses.

On the armchair across the room, Merlin, who was fiddling with his tablet, moved uncomfortably, crossing his legs. Even if Harry was able to see his friend only with his peripheral vision, he noticed Hamish's face was turning of a light shade of red that stretched from his chin to the top of his forehead.

Before doing anything, Harry tried to remember who else, beside Merlin, other Kingsmen, and his cousin, knew his mail, and if he ever recalled sleepwalking.

"Merlin..."

And Hamish coughed awkwardly, shifting again on the armchair.

"Hamish, what have you done?"

Merlin turned the tablet off and put it on his lap before massaging his eyes, somehow managing to do so without taking his glasses off. "I booked an omega for you," he explained, shame dripping from his voice.

The sentence floated mid-air in the office, heavy and pregnant with meaning, before Harry's ears were able to catch it, and it took even more time for his brain to process Hamish's words. To say the truth, needing so much time to understand what had been just said to him wasn't something Harry was used to; his job required a quick, sharp mind able to response to all what happened around him as soon as it happened.

He blinked, the light that illuminated the study suddenly too bright, and he too shifted on his chair. And finally, when he caught meaning of Merlin's words, only a whisper came out of his lips. "Oh, no."

Merlin sighed, still massaging his eyes.

"I'm truly sorry, Harry. You know I wouldn't have done it if it weren't absolutely necessary."

As stupid as it might've sounded, Harry couldn't find a reason why finding him an omega was something so compelling: his rut was still more than a week away, he had plenty of time to walk into a pub and flirt with an omega willing to spend a few days in bed with him. After all, he might've been getting old – well, not that old, mind him – but he had his manners, and he managed to look far more than decent when wearing the right suit.