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“Harry—” Eggsy says, voice talking on an odd tilt that only happens when he’s awash with emotion, usually in the early morning hours in their room when he looks at Harry like he can’t believe he’s alive (which, all things considered, was touch and go there for a bit), not walking through the (admittedly beautiful) park.
“Mh,” Harry moves his head in Eggsy’s direction, eyes on his phone as he types out a last line to Merlin, “yes, Love?”
“Harry,” Eggsy says again and Harry looks, before dropping his gaze because Eggsy isn’t where he’s supposed to be, he’s…he’s on one knee, looking up at Harry with eyes too wide and adoring, “Harry, I’ve loved you for—ever. You make me a better person, you make me want to be a better person, you—” Eggsy continues, being genuine and kind, speaking from the heart, unscripted and unplanned.
Well. This is inconvenient.
Because Eggsy’s declaration is just as he is, forthcoming and earnest and Harry—well, he has reservations for them at a 3 Micheline star restaurant in 15 minutes where there will be a fantastic meal with an exorbitantly expensive bottle of champagne with an even more exorbitantly expensive ring in the crystal glass. And on the rooftop will be all of their family and friends, sparklers at the ready and words of congratulations falling from their lips. There’s a small envelope that Harry will pass to Eggsy after they move away from the crowd at some point in the night with tickets to a destination they’ve been to before, but never for pleasure and Eggsy will kiss him and thank him and worry about who will watch JB, but he needn’t worry because Harry just confirmed the dog sitting with Merlin.
It’s grandiose and extravagant and here, in the face of Eggsy kneeling on the ground, setting sun illuminating his hair it seems quite silly; all they ever needed was love. But well, he did already pay for everything.
“What do you say, will you marry me?” Eggsy hold out the ring box, the slightest shake in his voice.
“Of course dearest,” Harry leans down, cupping his cheek and kissing him before pulling away just enough to speak, “but we simply must keep up the illusion I proposed first, if only until the Honeymoon.”
Eggsy’s already nodding, staring at Harry’s lips—then the words hit, “Wait, what?”
Harry kisses his forehead, stands straight and holds out a hand to help Eggsy up, which he takes unthinkingly, “If we don’t then I’ll be made fun of all night.”
“Wai—you were…?”
Harry nods, “and I’m still planning on it.” Harry doesn’t let go of Eggsy’s hand, “now we have to hurry, our reservation is in ten and we’re twenty away.”
Eggsy squeezes Harry’s hand, taking another look at his ring before closing the box and putting it in his pocket, “Well that’s inconvenient.”