CALL ME OUT

[heliakon]

-Call out post! Not just limited to characters listed above, if you know I play someone they're fair game!
-give a prompt - text, pictures, etc. or write your own!
-AUs, canons or in game-verse is totally fine!

Comments

harry hart.

[hornrimming]

[wordstoliveby]

[ Coming back from the dead was never an easy thing to do no matter what the circumstances involved were. To say that Harry was a mess after the church would be an understatement. It had taken months to recover properly, to get back into a state where he felt he was fit enough to return. The world fell apart in his absence, just barely held together as people came together in the aftermath of V-Day.

He's still unsure of his reception even after quietly returning to London. His house is occupied and after everything that happened, Harry isn't ready to face Eggsy just yet. So he makes other plans, taps sources he knows won't mention that he's back before he wants them to. It's tempting to just walk into Kingsman and ask for a fitting just to see jaws drop.

No, that wouldn't be right either.

In the end, Harry does what he knew he'd always do. He goes to Merlin. He lets himself into (read: breaks in very carefully) his old friend's house, waiting in the kitchen for him to return from work. The only forewarning he'll get is a text from an untraceable number. ]

You're running late.

[hornrimming]

[ Breaking into Merlin's home is a feat in itself, but not one that goes unnoticed. Perhaps it would have been different, receiving the text message from an untraceable number while in a meeting with their new Arthur, formerly Gawain. As it was, he was just sitting down to said meeting when his glasses alerted him to someone entering his house. He took a moment to assess the situation, pull up his security footage, and freeze.

It had to be a trick. Harry Hart had died months ago, and Merlin had dragged himself through that particular hell to the other end out of sheer professional willpower. He rewound the video, assessed it, checked for glitches to see if it was merely old footage looped, a trap designed to send him running home in the middle of the day.

By all appearances the video checked out. There was Harry Hart, alive, sitting in his kitchen.

Then, the text message arrived.

What is it, Merlin?

Apparently, Harry Hart just broke into my house.

What?

(Needless to say, the meeting was postponed.)

It's not thirty minutes later that Merlin is at his front door, unlocking three locks and pinning in his security code and not bothering for a second to take his shoes off once inside. His heart has been burning in his stomach the entire time back, the text left unanswered, and with his coat and oxfords still in place he makes a bee-line for the kitchen.

He stands in the doorway, unblinking, as if willing Harry to truly be a ghost or some figment of his imagination. He could curse, and maybe he will in a bit, but the first words out of his mouth go without much more hesitation, as they had swirled through his mind endlessly the whole trip over. ]

And what time do you call this?

[wordstoliveby]

[ There were a thousand, perhaps a million, things he could say in this moment. He didn't think through the decision to reveal himself this way too closely. It had been months since he'd seen a face that was familiar to him, since he'd felt safe enough to relax for longer than an hour at a time. For the first time in months, sitting at the impeccably kept table of Merlin's kitchen, his shoulders unknot and he can feel something loosen in his chest. For the first time he realizes that he can breath easily.

Seeing Merlin in the doorway just cements a thought that has been lurking at the back of his mind since he saw his house occupied.

In the absence of a place, home becomes a person.

Looking at Merlin is the first time he's felt like he's home since he woke up in the hospital. ]

What do I call this?

[ He smiles, feeling like an asshole but also painfully pleased to be somewhere familiar again. Hopefully this wouldn't end with Merlin punching him in the face. ]

I just sent it because I knew it'd piss you off.

[ Who was he kidding? It was bound to happen. He can at least earn it. ]

[hornrimming]

[ Punching Harry in the fact, in all actuality, seems like a bloody great idea. There are far too many emotions going at once and his jaw tightens as he stands unmoving in the doorway. Anger, frustration, deep gut-wrenching sadness combined with unparalleled relief. It feels like ages standing there, assessing, clenching his left fist because the right would do more damage than good if he decided he would in fact punch his formerly dead best friend. Finally, his feet find the will the move. ]

You goddamn son of a bitch.

[ In an instant he's with Harry, grabbing him by the collar and hoisting him up. All sharp lines and a hard stare, he could kiss him or punch him right then. Instead, he pulls Harry into the tightest hug he's ever given. ]