PSL

[fucking_gentleman]

Harry is actually enjoying the sunshine by the Thames.

Well, truthfully, there's no real sunshine and no one enjoys the Thames, but he's determined to not be in the office, so here he is, sitting in the window of his favourite bakery and sipping at his coffee.

He's people watching, which was always a hobby of his, but now has become a survival mechanism to fend of do gooders and 'helpful' people who see the twisted scar along his temple, the streak of silver it put into his hair, the patch tucked underneath his glasses and they make assumptions.

And his impulse control isn't quite what it was, which means occasionally he's been known to react to a slow and loud "Can I help you?" with a leg trip and toe of his shoe into their ribs.

By accident, of course.

But now, he's mostly curious about the fellow who seems to be somewhat determinedly heading to the river's edge.

Comments

[residu]

"I know the feeling," he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. It's not exactly the same as Harry's, but. "Ever think of trying a sewing machine? Might help."

[fucking_gentleman]

"My dear young man, I use a sewing machine. But some things must simply be hand stitched to achieve the best quality of make."

[residu]

"Oh...." He doesn't see why, but that's probably because he just doesn't know enough about stitching. He'll take Harry's word for it and just send him a short, searching glance.

"Sorry about the motor skills."

[fucking_gentleman]

"Well... thank you, but it really isn't necessary. As I said, I should remember to be grateful that I survived with my mind intact, if not my fine motor skills." He finally gestures them around a corner where the most wonderful, tempting smells are emerging from.

[residu]

It has Jihwan's stomach rumbling audibly as soon as the sweet aroma hits his nose, but he doesn't actually manage to look embarrassed over it or anything. He just shrugs his shoulders and nods.

"Still...seemed like you were upset over it." So as petty and hollow as it might come across, he still felt he should at least offer his condolences. There was nothing to be done for it.

[fucking_gentleman]

"Yes, I suppose. It's more frustration. Emrys is trying to bully me into taking a purely administrative position." He gestures ahead of him with a hand, not with the cane. He's actually using the cane quite heavily. "If you would?"

Get the door, that is.

[residu]

"Huh? Oh--yeah, sorry. Here." Jihwan moves ahead to get it, giving Harry a look of consideration now. He definitely wasn't leaning so heavily on his cane the last time they'd met. Harry hadn't had trouble with the cafe doors then either.

"...You okay?"

[fucking_gentleman]

"Good days. Bad days. I did survive a near point blank nine millimetre to the head." He made his way into the bakery, nodding grateful when the waiter hurried to pull his usual seat for him and he could sink into it.

"My usual tea and whatever you have fresh in the lunch roll selection. And my young friend here...?"

[residu]

"No, that's....I mean. I was gonna treat you this time," Jihwan shakes his head, awkwardly. He's trying to insist but it still doesn't really feel like he's going to get away with this unless Harry lets him. "I'm fine. Just...water."

[fucking_gentleman]

"And a roll for the young man," Harry adds. Really, arguing with him is a pointless exercise.

"I hope your other young man knows about this one," the waiter teases.

"Perish the thought, Andrew. Clearly, at my age, I require two boys to make myself feel like a powerful man. I must swear you to secrecy, however, they don't know about each other."

[residu]

"..........................."

Two boys. There's clearly some sort of inside joke he's missing here, but Jihwan winds up looking all the more awkward and stricken for it, staring between Harry and the waiter. He's not even sure he wants to know.

Why would this guy have another young man?? The heck are they talking about?!

[fucking_gentleman]

The waiter moves away with a chuckle and Harry turns his attention back to Jihwan, smothering down his amusement.

"My protege, Eggsy. I bring him here quite regularly, he's only twenty five. Andrew has taken to calling him my boy toy because of the way he fusses over my health."

[residu]

"That's....some nickname." For a mere protege. If there's humour involved he just doesn't get it, and why it suddenly extends to him.

[fucking_gentleman]

"... Eggsy?"

Is he being obtuse? Hard to say, he seems completely genuine.

[residu]

".......That too." He really can't tell if Harry's joshing him or not here. It's that serious look on his face.

[fucking_gentleman]

"When we first met, he was seven and he introduced himself as Eggsy then, too. I have no idea where the name came from, but he sometimes forgets to respond to his birth name."

He might be unaware.

He might be fucking with you, Jihwan.

[residu]

He might be a dick. But Jihwan's still trying to parse that out as he squints him out.

"And the....thing? The other nickname?"

[fucking_gentleman]

"Oh, as I say, he tends to fuss. It was a joke started because he'd be checking me constantly during meals, holding my arm when we walked, pushing my chair when I was still confined and generally behaving like a nervous husband."

Despite the words, it's clear that Harry is very fond of his young protege. "Only Andrew calls him that. Emrys mostly calls him 'that little shit you brought in who ruins my filing system'."

[residu]

Must be because of his injury, he thinks. It explains the fussing over, because he's actually pretty mindful of Harry right now too. Probably not one of his good days. He does seem pretty fond of the 'little shut' though, and if he were less of a grouch he might even crack a wry smirk at the title. Instead he jus looks thoughtful.

"Sounds fun. You like his godfather or something then?"

[fucking_gentleman]

It was entirely because of his injury. Eggsy still didn't cope well with what he had witnessed and having Harry back and meant all that worry and fussing got focused onto Harry.

"Something like that. I was his father's commanding officer before I went into tailoring. When Eggsy needed a guiding hand, I tried to provide some direction for him."

[residu]

"--Commanding officer?" Did he hear that right?

[fucking_gentleman]

"I was military twenty years ago."

[residu]

"And that somehow led to you becoming a...tailor? I mean, no offence. It's just kinda the opposite an' all."

[fucking_gentleman]

He shrugs slightly. "Yes. Someone under my command died because I missed something. That someone was Eggsy's father."

[residu]

Oh...well.

"Shit. Sorry, I didn't..." Mean to open his mouth and dredge all that up, yeesh.