Harry had gotten fairly good at avoiding Bond, and since the revelation from Q this weekend he'd been even more careful. He just could not handle a conversation with him about it. He also thought that Bond probably knew, or at least suspected, that Harry and Q hadn't been intimate yet. And he couldn't handle commentary on that. Or speculation about their sexual compatibility. Or tales of Bond and Q. Or gloating. Or... or just any of the feelings he dredged up that had nothing to do with Q.

And when he walked into the kitchen and saw him there, his ass looking absolutely perfect in those trousers, those feelings practically slapped hi the face. More than he would have ever anticipated. He couldn't even say anything at first.