Considerably Less Cannibalism
It is a real, physical struggle to not stare like a dogger while Harry shrugs off his jacket and undoes his collar, sets his signet ring aside. He has detailed, minutely detailed, fantasies about unbuttoning that fucking collar. At least he’s not wearing the holster right now, or Eggsy’d be sprung already. “It’s time you learned the fine art of the straight razor shave.”
Eggsy gives him his best you havin’ a fucking giggle, mate eyebrows. “Like Sweeney Todd?”
Harry’s sigh is just bordering on melodramatic, but he’s also got that odd— Roxy calls it enigmatic—smile he gets when Eggsy trots out some unexpected bit of culture. "Yes, Eggsy, like Sweeney Todd."