Fandom Oneshots [Mainly Marvel, Sherlock, and Good Omens, and House MD]

Kingsman: (Percilot) "Green Ties and Idiots"

Just wanted to play with feels.

Angsty then fluff.

[「-」]

Alistair was the quiet kid in the class that was the sense of logic in a food fight. He would push his black-rimmed glasses up and sigh behind everyone's back. In a sense, he was Merlin without excessive alcohol consumption and angry Scottish-accented swearing.

There was also one major difference, he was the boyfriend of the obnoxiously funny class-clown. The kind of person Merlin despised, he felt drawn to like a moth to a fireplace. The moth would die if they get too close.

Alistair didn't feel the burn in the beginning. It was rather pleasant with his small smile contrasting James's wide grin. The roaring laughter James sent through the air when he made a quiet but slightly rude remark. 

He was a gentleman, but he was allowed to joke with a man he loved. 

He soon hopped in with wit and wisdom that no one had seen from him. There were jokes that had true laughter that lingered behind small smiles and crow's feet. There would be tomato sauce that wrote I luv u in red.

They were obnoxiously untouchable. James would rush in and take the front wave with quick clicks of his finger and Alistair would take longer, drawn-out, thought-through snipes at the men in the back.

James was the sun that shined with the heat of his own beauty and he was the moon that shined because James was willing to share his light.

The metaphors disgusted both of them on the outside. 

Until James was sliced in half.

Percival watched as Lancelot's cocky grin was wiped from his face and the halves of his body flopped to the sides as if a book popping open from the spine.

Merlin always said they should shed a tear in private, but he held Percival as one, then two, then so many more tears flooded from his eyes.

The day he got home, his niece Roxanne was waiting for him with a lance in her hand. She would make jokes on how he was Lancelot since he was talented at sparring with the weapon. When she cracked the joke softly, he paused in his steps.

"Uncle?" Her expression was softer than she would admit. 

"Lancelot was always a cocky bastard," Percival would say with the Sahara lodged into his throat. Roxanne listened as A's and C's came from the back of his uncle's throat. She never heard him insult someone nor had she heard him swear in such a way.

"Alistair?" She asked, and then, she saw them. 

Tears flowed from behind his glasses and ended up staining his perfectly white shirt. "He was the goddamn sun," He had said in a whisper with certain letters that strained his throat.

That day, he trained Roxanne to be the Lancelot James would want to see take his spot. He told her that even the more obnoxious should have a voice and the rudest have a chance.

He told her that what they called lower-levelled were just as hardworking, smart, and deserving of love as they were. James wasn't one of them, but his childhood friend had been and that friend drew out the laughter that gave him life.

He would send a hand-made suit to them. Not in brown or tan, of course.

Percival watched as Roxanne became Roxy, Rox, and Lancelot. He watched as she became respected and even sometimes feared. 

"I think Eggsy's kind of scared of me," She joked.

"James would've wanted to be feared by him. They have the same stupid sense of humour," Would've been his response but he was quiet now. There was no sun; the days were so... blank. 

Percival let a polite but genuine chuckle fall onto Roxanne's ears.

That night, he cursed the leader for making him so pensive about making it official. But, from the beginning, the sun and moon were tied together by string, rope, and stories.

Then, there was a flare that the Earth recoiled from. It was in the form of a very alive James Spencer with his hands in his pocket, whistling John Denver just to spite Merlin.

"What the hell?" Would've been Merlin's response if Percival didn't come flying at him.

It wasn't a punch nor hug, it was Percival knocking him to the floor, where he loomed over the figure.

"Heya, Percy," Was what James chose to respond with.

"Breakroom, please," Percival responded.

When they entered and Percival locked the door, James hopped onto a chair and spun around. 

"How did you—?" Percival gestured at the man who was very clearly intact. 

"Doesn't really matter," James shrugged. "AKA, I dunno," He said as he placed his elbows on the arms of the chair.

There was silence except for the buzzing that Percival always heard in his left ear.

He dropped onto his knees and sobbed.

"Alistair?" James hopped down from his chair and took him in a hug. 

"You-you fool!" Alistair said into James's shoulder. 

"I know," James sighed as Alistar gripped his tan suit lapels. "I'm a fool and an idiot," A rueful smile appeared as Alistair pulled away.

"I don't mean it... i-it's our job and you were just d-doing it," Alistair's face was still wet. He gazed around and then muttered into James's suit.

"'Stair?" A sob escaped said man who was curled in James's arms. 

"Every time I bought a new tie I... I would—" Another loud sob. Alistair tried to wipe his face but James beat him to it, using his button-up to wipe off the tears. Alistar wanted him to stop ruining the shirt that looked so good on him but he continued. "—I would buy a green one and toss it into your wardrobe. There's a checkered one... and a paisley one and a sailboat... and—"

"I hate paisley," James said into Alistair's pomade-slicked hair.

"You idiot," Alistair said as another round of sobs consumed him.

James let Alistair weep and sob onto his suit. He held him tightly and didn't let go.

His arms were the sun's rays that wrapped around the moon and let it shine.

The metaphors disgusted both of them on the outside.

That's why they put the metaphor on the inside of their rings.