Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/12380202. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage Category: F/M, M/M Fandom: Kingsman_(Movies), Legend_(2015) Relationship: Harry_Hart_|_Galahad/Gary_"Eggsy"_Unwin, Ronald_"Ronnie"_Kray/Gary "Eggsy"_Unwin, Reginald_"Reggie"_Kray/Gary_"Eggsy"_Unwin, Dean_Baker/ Michelle_Unwin Character: Gary_"Eggsy"_Unwin, Harry_Hart_|_Galahad, Merlin_(Kingsman), Dean_Baker, Kingsman_Agents, Percival_(Kingsman), James_|_Lancelot_(Kingsman), Original_Kingsman_Character(s), Jamal_(Kingsman), Gawain_(Kingsman), Tristan_(Kingsman), Kay_(Kingsman), Bors_(Kingsman), Bedivere_(Kingsman), Liam_(Kingsman), Ronald_"Ronnie"_Kray, Reginald_"Reggie"_Kray, Roxy Morton_|_Lancelot, Michelle_Unwin, Daisy_(Kingsman), Brandon_(Kingsman), Big_Sal, Leslie_Holt, Frances_Shea, Frank_Shea Additional Tags: Alternate_Universe_-_Mob, Angst_with_a_Happy_Ending, Sad_with_a_Happy Ending, Older_Man/Younger_Man, Older_Harry, Protective_Harry_Hart, BAMF Eggsy_Unwin, Possessive_Behavior, Possessive_Harry, Possessive_Ronnie, Mind_Manipulation, Minor_Original_Character(s), Original_Character(s), Teen_Angst, Teen_Eggsy, Canon-Typical_Violence, Gun_Violence, Gun_Kink, Blood_Kink, Bloodlust, Blood_As_Lube, Anal_Sex, Oral_Sex, Rough_Sex, Sex Toys, Semi-Public_Sex, Gay_Sex, Shower_Sex, Car_Sex, Wall_Sex, Falling_In Love, Boys_In_Love, First_Love, Love_at_First_Sight, Forbidden_Love, Love Triangles, Mob_family, Emotional_Manipulation, Manipulation, Manipulative Harry, Manipulative_Reggie, Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Alternative_Perspective, Alternative_Universe_-_50s_&_60s, Anal Fingering, Finger_Sucking, Fingerfucking, Hand_&_Finger_Kink, Rimming, Oral_Fixation, Rough_Oral_Sex, Orgasm_Delay/Denial, Multiple_Orgasms, Organized_Crime, Sensation_Play, Overstimulation, Shameless_Smut Stats: Published: 2017-10-16 Chapters: 1/? Words: 3364 ****** Black Tea ****** by lily_daisies Summary The Unwin Family are untouchable. Eggsy Unwin, a mob prince who doesn't like his crown. Harry Hart, a Kingsman agent sent in to decrown the King, and kill the heir. Who knew that when the time came, Harry couldn't pull the trigger? That he'd fallen too deep and didn't want to get out. What happens when he's left with a broken heart and blood on his hands? Notes I've been listening to a lot of the 50s and 60s music and documentaries on mob families--thus this was born. Eggsy is 17 at the start of this, and Harry is older, but not too much. This is a mixture of Legend and Kingsman and my own makings. Hope you enjoy! See the end of the work for more notes Organized crime, crime syndicates, racketeering, torture. When people usually think of these things, they think of the mob. Me? I think of my family. I was born November 10th, 1945 to Michelle Unwin and Lee Unwin. 1 of 5 kids. And the newest addition, Daisy Unwin. Lee Unwin was killed in an unjust war and sent home in a box with the British flag laid across it. And a metal. Michelle Unwin married Dean Unwin when he entered into London 3 years after my Dad died. He kept Unwin because when he came from Scotland, he left a fugitive. He has made his way in London’s underground organized crime. The Unwin’s became a name everyone in London and the better part of England really, knew. The most infamously notorious mob families in British History. And we are untouchable. Scotland Yard wouldn’t even come near us with a 1,000-meter pole. Jimmy and Jemima were paternal twins and the rulers of the East and West ends. I was the third child born, a grey sheep of the flock. Chester and Peter are 12 and 9, respectively. And the sixth and newest born, Daisy. She is almost 2, now. My family put everyone through the same intense training and testing as anyone who has decided they wanted to be apart of the group. Everyone was an asset. A big happy, violent family. We solely trusted everyone, protected and served as a martyr for the Unwin’s. Once you were in, you were in. Most of the family were either married in, went through the testing successfully, or were apart of the family through blood. Everyone was apart of the family, and that’s what we are. Our family was notorious for its game-changing recruitment methods, and moral ambiguity. We are known for being quite ahead of the times. Self-indulgent, and selfless. No one hated and loved us more, then our so-called rivals. There wasn’t a day that went by and someone didn’t try to overtake us. “You know, I’m getting rather tired of all this. Aren’t you Big Sal?” I sighed, dodging another incoming fist. I sidestep another, never hitting anyone. “Can you finish this more quickly? I would like to finish my tea sitting down.” I complain, managing to not slip any tea this entire fight. Sal slams both hands against the assailants head, and I wince. Not a minute passes before I’m seated again, and my afternoon tea time resumes. Various groans of pain fill the silence and I look down at the one closest to my feet. “X'cuse me, love. You mind telling me your employer's name?” I sip some tea, looking down at him. There’s blood dripping from his nose and I hand over a napkin. “You got a bit of—,” I say, motioning to his nose. He has the decency to look appreciative and wipes at his nose. “Sal, do you mind if you ask Martha for another pot of tea, please? Seems this one has gone cold.” I ask, politely. Sal nods and gets up. “Sal, make sure to clean up before we go. Don’t want to go around and scare our neighbors half to death with your presence.” I turn back to the man at my feet. “Have you remembered now? Or do I have to call Sal back again?” The man looks panicked and almost shouts his answer. “Richardsons, your lord! It was the Richardsons!” Of course. The Richardsons were a rather reoccurring nuisance for us. They didn’t stand on two feet next to us, but they were getting rather annoying. “Ugh, of course. HEY SAL, IT WAS THE RICHARDSONS! Do you mind?” I gestured to the seat across from me and the man scrambled up to comply. “You know who I am, I gather?” I question and he nods. “You know what they call me, yes?” He nods. “Know that while I am not a man of violence, I am not one who takes too kindly to those who try to kill me. Or ruin my afternoon tea, no less.” Every man conscious now, shakes their head, all on their knees, apologizing. I hold a hand up and they fall silent. “I fancy to think I am a man of reason. So!” I smile. “If I ever catch any glimpse of any of you again, you will become very familiar with why I have acquired my status in my family.” I could’ve sworn I saw a man's pants went darker. “Off with you lot.” The door slammed behind the last man as soon as Sal had brought back a fresh kettle. “Thank you, Sal. What would I do without you.” He smiled and poured himself a cuppa. “I guess we have to bring our outings for the day to end, Sal. This is rather tiresome and I would like to get home as soon as possible. Who knows who might try today.” Our home was a big comfortable collection of flats that were converted and served as such. It was cold out today and I knew that the only way I would be given a chance to be alone is if I feigned sickness. “Why don’t ya go chat to Dean? I’m feeling a bit under the weather. Let ‘em know that no one was killed. I’ll be my room.” Sal nodded and left. I made my way up the stairs to my room and out my window. I slid down the pipe and landing on my feet. Jamal, Brandon, and Liam are standing at the corner of my back street smoking cigarettes. “A’right there, lads?” I smirk, as they turn around shocked. Their shock quickly bleeds into smiles and giddiness. “Glad you could make it, your highness. Took you long enough, bruv.” Jamal laughs. Most people were a bit bugged by Jamal and Brandon’s presence in Eggsy’s inner circle of friends. Being as both are black, well Brandon is half, but unease nonetheless. Not that it bothered anyone in the Unwin family. They were family. “Oi, be glad I got’a chance to slip away, yea? Richardsons sent ‘round some thugs. I don’t understand how they just don’t give in.” Jamal pulls out a joint from behind his ear and we walk over to the pub. The Black Prince is a place Eggsy has been in charge of, he technically owns it—it’s under his name and all, but it was through his family. It wasn’t all Eggsy’s. It’s in a prime spot that earns the fam a good heap of pounds. “My mum wants ya to swing ‘round for a cuppa. Says you been gone too long.” Jamal says. Jimmy and Frankie are waiting in the car for us when I bit of reflected light catches my eye. A man with an umbrella is standing on the corner across the street. A tall lean man with chocolate brown hair, and the longest pair of legs crossed. He languidly looked about the street, his sweeping gaze that stops on me. His lips perk up in a slight smirk. I felt my heart jump, but I kept walking to the car. Jamal, Brandon, and Liam in front of me—I don’t dare look back. I settle for looking at him through the review mirror. He stares after the car before one pulls up in front of him. ===============================================================================  “There’s gonna be a new shipment coming in and I need you there.” Dean is sitting across from me in our motorcade. I look at him in annoyance and hiss, “Ha’vent I already told ya about not wanting to be a part of this, do you not hear me when I talk, do ya?” Dean slaps me hard across the face and I blink blankly at the mini bar across from me. “Hav’ent I told ya not to talk to your Pa like dat? Gosh, Muggsy maybe I wouldn’t have to smack you around, yea.” He takes a long swig of his drink and I bite down on my lip, it’s bleeding. “I know you’ve told me you don’t want to be a part of it, but I need you a part of it. You were my best man, my best boy.” He smiles, squeezing my thigh. I shake his hand off and scoot closer to the windows. “I don’t care, just tell me when and where. I’ll be there.” I grumbled, sitting up straighter and crossing my legs. He smiles, a hair away from wolfishly. “That’s my boy.” ===============================================================================  It’s a Friday night and the shipment won’t come in until 3:30 tonight. Sal wasn’t too happy when he found I had left the house without him, but he perked up when I told him the plans for tonight. “Who did he say we were going to be meeting? At the docks?” Sal, Jamal, Brandon, Liam, and some more of our other family and friends gathered together. The Black Prince club was a beauty to behold, stars and the Unwin’s family associates, governors, and Lords alike. The Prince breathed status and money. Women glittered, and men stood tall and proud. Timi Yuro is the headliner of the night. A beautiful soulful thing she is. The band is playing brilliantly and everything is so wonderful, but my agenda for this night smoked my enjoyment away. I stare at all the company of the night and I look upon them with disdain. I looked like I belonged, but I never felt such isolation. My suit tonight is one of my favorites, and I settled for a bowtie. It’s not 2 hours into the night when Jamal finally manages to tug me out of my seat and out the backdoors. “You are killing me, bruv. You looked like someone pissed in your drink, mate.” Jamal explains while pulling out 3 blunts. “We are not going back inside until we have 3 roaches.” He said. I widened my eyes, opening and closing my lips. “Fuckkk me.” The club is in full swing and people are dancing and everything is so happy. “Sal would you give me hand, love.” I giggled, trying to walk properly but the room felt like I was falling over. “Do you think you’ll be fine for the pickup, boss?” Sal asks, hand on my shoulder. I look at him, incredulously. “It’s barely 9 o’clock, I’ll be fine when 3 finally pops around.” I flop heavily into my seat and Jamal takes care in not trying to spill his drink. “What have you been doing besides sitting around? You know what! I need a drink.” I grumble and dash away from the table. I hear Sal groan and I smirk. I look away from the table to stumble into a firm chest. “Jesus!” I hiss and breathing in their smell sharply. Their scent is full bodied and leaves a hot coil warming my groin. “I’m terribly sorry. I should’ve been looking at my surroundings.” A warm, posh voice fills my head and I look up to see the man I saw earlier on the corner. I blink quickly, hoping I’m not making him up as I grasp onto his shoulders. “You,” I whisper and pull myself out of his embrace. “I’m sorry. I’m not about myself. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” My heart felt like it was lodged in my throat and I stepped back. Up close, I noticed the color of his eyes, and all the alarms went off in my head: danger, danger, danger. We stared at each other for longer than normal, but his presence was intoxicating. I felt a warm presence stand behind me and I already knew who was behind me. “Everything alright on here, baby?” Ronnie Kray was an up-and-coming gangster from the East End. He’s a painful liability, but one that the Unwin’s have taken on account of Dean himself. He has taken a likeness to me, but I had broken it off when I stepped away from the firm. “Yes, Ron. I’m fine. Let’s just get out of here. I want to go, now.” I breathe out. Ronnie as his arms around me, shielding me away from the man, whose name I didn’t ask for. The man hadn’t moved to say anything and instead just watched Ronnie lead me back to my table. Ronnie didn’t let me go and I didn’t move away. My body was shaking and I crossed my legs and pushed my hands between my thighs. Ronnie was staring at me and his gaze was filled with such an intensity you could feel it across the room. “What’ve ya taken? Did he hurt ya?” Ronnie asked softly. If someone had seen us now they wouldn’t recognize Ronnie. He had a hand under my chin making me look up at him. I couldn’t stop trembling and the vanishing adrenaline made me feel drained and weak. “What’d ya jack up on?” He grumbled impatiently. I shot him a heated glare and hissed, “You know I wouldn’t do anything daft, Ron.” He pouts and turns back to the stage. “I’m fine, just the shivers s’all.” “Where’s Sal?” =============================================================================== The docks at this time of night were always made me so uneasy. Sal waited with me while everyone else looked through the docks for anything out the ordinary. “Dean’s said that it should be 6 crates. Revolvers, machine guns, some Tommie’s, rifles, handguns, and shotguns. We check ‘em before we leave and then we have Jimmy hand over the cash.” I nod along, listening but thinking back to the man at the club. “Who’s the person?” I asked, wiggling my nose. It’s a cold night, winter finally making its way through London. “What’s their name?” Sal is craning his neck to look far away at something and I see a car pull up. “A Mr. Duvere.” Sal says before mentioned man steps out of the car, and my stomach drops. It’s him. “Gentlemen, shall we begin?” He smiles. Frankie, Jimmy, and the rest of ‘em have made their way back to where we are. The man isn’t accompanied by anyone besides a driver. Dangerous. “My name is Duvere. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Unwin.” So you do know me. I take his extended hand and almost moan at the warmness of his hands. He covers my hand with both his hands and I shiver, but not from the cold. His hands are unbelievably soft, and his grip is firm, yet gentle. He releases my hand and I tuck it back into my pocket. Feeling colder than before. “A pleasure, Mr. Duvere. I’m sure my father has already discussed with you our business, so do proceed.” He stands tall, his focus piercing me. I avoid his eyes afraid this business won’t progress much if I can’t keep my head straight. “Yes. I’m a man who always pleases.” He smirks, and I make the mistake of looking up at him. His eyes seem darker, even now. I feel my face heart, and I clear my throat. “Shall we?” I gesture towards the shipments. He nods. “This way.” =============================================================================== 6 crates, delivered on time, and everything accounted for. The Firm looks over the guns, giddy for new toys. “I guess I should explain myself.” Mr. Duvere cuts into my daydreaming. I look up at him and wait. “My name’s Harry.” He smiles. He has his arms behind himself, and I can’t stop looking at him. What is wrong with me? I stare at him, debating whether to give him my name instead of having him call me Mr. Unwin. “Eggsy. Gary, actually, but I prefer Eggsy.” I finally spit out. His face breaks into a blinding smile and I have to look down at my feet. “Eggsy.” He breathes, and I wonder how many different ways I could get him to say my name. “I love it.” He’s standing closer than I usually let people and I still want to drag him closer. I step back from the open flame. “What are you doing tomorrow?” He asks suddenly. “Would you care to have some tea? I know how to make a lovely cuppa.” Harry smiles, it makes his face look younger. God, what is this man doing to me? “What t-time?” I mutter and he smiles again. =============================================================================== I am Eggsy Unwin. I am part of the most notoriously infamous mob families in the world. I have been trained to kill since I was a kid. Know how to take apart a gun and put it back together in under 20 seconds. I can fend for my own, and yet I’ve been reduced to a pile of mush because of a tall, long- legged, dimpled smiled man kissed my hand before he drove away with the promise of tea tomorrow. “Everything ‘right there, Eggsy?” Sal asks. I haven’t said anything since Harry left and I can’t figure how to clear my head of him. “I’m fine. Just tired. Let’s go home.” I sigh, tugging at my hair. It had started to drizzle then. Sal kept me company in the car, while Frankie drove. Everyone else took the shipment in a different car, leaving me to my thoughts. I leaned my forehead against the window, the cool glass taking away the heat in my face. =============================================================================== My flat was one of the many properties my family owns, and one I have made my own. Preferring to live on my own rather than being with my noisy family. The house had a balcony that looked out over East End, and enough windows that one didn’t typically have to try too hard to look into the place. It was one of the more secluded spots that we owned, mostly older folks, and empty buildings around. The flat is an open one-floor dream. My bed only a short walk away from the balcony and I sit down heavily. I slowly strip myself out of my suit, changing into something looser. I let the balcony doors open, letting in the cold air, airing out the stale air. I pad my way over to my bar and pour myself a drink. I grab a record and place in the player and turn it all the way up. Sleep Walk by the Farina Brothers climbs out the speakers and into the air surrounding me. I sway slowly, thinking back to Harry and his warmth. “I’ll send a car for you.” “You don’t know where I live.” I huff, pouting slightly. I jerk my chin out and look up at him. He’s tall enough that I can say that he looms over me. Not unwelcome, and I draw closer still. “Tell me.” He asks, taking my hand. I breathe in sharply, looking around to see if anyone is paying attention. Sal and the others are still looking at the crates, not even aware that we are so close to each other. “Why should I have tea with you?” I scoff. “I don’t even know you, mate.” He smiles, looking down. “Don’t say no. I want to see you again.” He must be out of his mind to think I would go anywhere with him. “What makes you think I want to see you again?” The words tumble out before I get a chance to think about it. Hurt flashes quickly over his face and I regret them, I regret them and I want toripthem out of the air between us. “Do you have a pen?” I ask, not bothering to keep up my indifference. He presents one in front of me and I grab onto his hand. “Memorize it and then wash it away,” I say, quickly jotting down my private address. It’s the first one that comes to mind and I don’t think about how I’ve never given this address to anyone besides Sal and Frankie. His smile in return is worth it. “I’ll see you then, my dear boy.” He whispers before bending down and pressing his lips to my hand. My heart jackrabbits and I hold my breath the entire time. I open my eyes looking out over the city that my family owns. I clench my eyes together, burying my hand and twisting my shirt over my heart. “What am I doing?” End Notes Please let me know if I should continue this or if it's any good. Thank you for reading! Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!