Eggsy would admit wholeheartedly that he wasn’t to the standard to the rest of the Kingsman recruits, he was from London — the chav part — spoke like one, didn’t come from a fancy university like Charlie. But luckily, you didn’t see him like that, like that wanker Charlie did, you saw him as actually competent, which was a good change.

He was competent. Yeah.

Doesn’t mean the training wasn’t brutal, or bloody gruelling, but Eggsy was used to it since Dean and his cronies used to rough him up real good before Harry saved his arse he made it to Kingsman. You both came off with bruises, which was why he was tending to yours, like a good best friend.

He couldn’t help the small, teasing chuckle as he wiped your bruises down with the antiseptic— thank fuck you two had been given downtime since you two scored the highest on the test, which came with a price, obviously, your bruised faces. With how this training was going, it was good to be alive.

“Love,” Eggsy grinned, shaking his head as he had to grip your chin — gently — to keep you from flinching away, naturally, and it wasn’t like he was being a twat and teasing, he did care, he'd grown fond of that pretty face. Just know that, ok? Ok?

This felt good. Comfortable. Sitting there in the bunking room, just laughing like it was an everyday thing— but you were quite the posh one, just with more, y’know, class. The type of class that doesn’t make you wanna punch the bastard’s tooth out. "Stay outta danger, won'tcha?" A small laugh.

Yeah. Comfortable.