There’s some sense of relief when Quentin finally slides Eggsy’s underwear down. There’s that fabric against him again, familiar and soft even though he’s still stinging from the crop. He groans softly and his head tips back a little, toward Quentin, though it’s not a conscious movement.

“Are you actually gonna fuck me now?” he asks, smile still playing on his lips because he can’t help it, “Cos I would really, really like that.”