0_0_7 | (no subject)

(no subject)

There was a sharp crack of gunfire that made the comm squeal in Q branch. The Double-0 in the field grunted, then began to pant, and continued making familiar sounds of effort as he ran full bore.

"Report," M barked in his ear.

"He ran," Bond replied, as if that should be obvious.

"Can you catch him?"

There was no answer. For a few tense moments there was only measured breathing, Bond's rhythm driving him on. On Q's screen, the small dot that indicated the agent moved north, then northwest, then vanished entirely in the middle of an intersection.

"I'm in the sewer," he said simply.

The announcement gave Q time to find him.

A moment later, there was an explosion and the comm cut out entirely.

M looked at Tanner and Q, Moneypenny...only looked at Q.

"Get me satellite," Tanner barked at Q's underling and a moment later there was an image of a smoking crater where Bond's signal had been. The smartblood monitor blinked OFFLINE. That didn't mean dead, but it certainly wasn't good.

"Bond?" M said. "Report."

Silence.

"Double-0-Seven, report," M repeated.

Silence.

"Keep the comm open," M finally said, then stalked out of the room.

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"Q, I'll take care of everything," Bond said, moving close and laying a steady hand on him.

"Go take a shower. I'll make tea, and arrangements. There are some generic clothes in the drawers you can wear tonight," he said. "And tomorrow, we'll go see what can be salvaged. It may not be as bad as you fear."

Q nodded slightly, then slowly put his arms around Bond and embraced him tightly.

"Thank you, James," he said softly.

He was reluctant to let go, but eventually he did, taking a pair of simple blue pyjamas before heading into the shower.

While the tea was steeping, Bond called Moneypenny to make arrangements. She was already prepared and only needed to know which safehouse they were in.

He paused at the door of the loo to listen to the water run, then grabbed a towel and popped it in the dryer in the kitchen. When it was warm, he knocked on the door and opened it.

"Your towel is warm and your tea is ready," he said. "And Moneypenny is on the way."

Q was a bit overwhelmed by the kind treatment, emerging a short while later clean and dressed in the pyjamas he'd found.

"You really don't mind staying?" He asked again. "I know it's stupid to be nervous, but..."

Bond smiled softly, chuckling as he shook his head.

"I don't mind," he assured him.

Crossing to him, Bond took hold of him.

"Q, I'm sorry. I'm not cross with you, I simply didn't want to have that conversation. I won't do it again. And there's no where else I'd rather be than here with you."

Right where he'd meant for Q to wind up.

Q nodded slightly, then sighed.

"I really am sorry. I wasn't trying to start a fight... It just turns out I'm exceptionally good at it," he joked lightly.

"Add that to the list," Bond said warmly. "You're good at more than I ever realized."

He sipped his tea while Q sorted his.

"Do you really have an ex who would blow up your house?" he asked then.

That could be terribly useful to know.

"I don't know," Q admitted, sipping his tea. "I'd like to think not, but his stalking had become more intense recently."

Bond was aware he'd had to move, after all.

"This would be a very aggressive turn, but not impossible. I suppose I'm struggling to think of someone else to blame."

"I know precisely how fast forensics can work....and you're Quartermaster. We'll know in the morning," Bond said confidently.

He moved closer and took hold of Q.

"And so tonight I don't want you to think about it anymore. And I'll see to it that you don't," he said, with calm, clear confidence, and then captured his mouth in a hungry, possessive kiss.

Q returned the kiss, then found a small smile for the other man.

"Going to shut off my mind, are you? Easier said than done... It's always running a million miles an hour."

Bond gave him one more quick kiss, then spoke there- against his lips.

"I'll put my back into it," he promised, then all but dragged Q to the bedroom.

It was bland, but the bed was clean and fresh and still rather new.

"Bond didn't need more than that to prove himself.

Q let himself be pulled along, almost hopeful James would just take control tonight. Though the closest they'd ever come to that was the bathrobe belt incident, something Q was sure the other man didn't even remember.

It was good to just be near him though, hard not to feel safe in the other man's arms. When Bond was holding him, Q was certain nothing else could touch him.

He'd denied Bond the dinner he'd wanted, and now he found the agent hungry as he expertly peeled Q's bargain Tesco nightwear off. His own clothes vanished with just as much ease.

He truly didn't give Q much choice in the matter at all. He had complete control, a bit high on how well this little plan was all working out for him.

Q's hands danced over Bond's chest, as though it was still exciting to have the other man bare beside him. A thrill he'd never get tired of.

"I want to be yours," he said quietly. "How embarrassing, to want so badly to belong to someone else."

He saw no reason to pretend otherwise. He'd never been lower, at least not in a long time, so why not just be honest?

Bond caught his arms and pinned him to the bed, then breathed a line up his neck to his ear.

He could not have been more pleased, and it was obvious when he spoke.

"What does that mean to you, Q?" he asked. "A ring?"

He brushed his neck again to whisper near his ear.

"Or a collar?"

Q swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way his cock instantly reacted to James- His voice, his touch, his words...

"Well, both are tempting, but I don't think you brought either," Q said softly, shifting a little beneath Bond, his erection trapped between them.

Bond was quiet for just a moment.

"Caught out," he said. "I'll just have to claim you like this..."

He kissed him again, powerful and hungry, wrestling Q around to how he wanted him so he could pin his arms to the bed and grind against his cock.

Bond could have claimed him with nothing more than a word, Q was weak for him- But he certainly didn't protest as the man held him down.

"Need you," Q confessed. "Please."

He just wanted the rest of the day to vanish, so he could simply hold onto this, and this alone.

This was more like it. This was where Q was meant to be. In the safe house. In bed. In Bond's blood, driving him mad as the agent used lips and fingers and body to drive every thought from Q's brain. Until all he knew was the delicious velvet warmth of Bond's mouth as he swallowed Q's cock and the rest of England fell away, leaving only them, here and now.

Q's fingers slid into his hair, holding tight as his hips lifted off the bed towards the hot, perfect heat of James' mouth.

"Fuck," he gasped softly.

He bobbed on Q's length, enjoying the shape and weight of him. His hands slowly slipped away from his wrists, trailing along his skin until he could take hold of him to stroke and lift his head.

"Belong to me, Q," he said, low and even. "Say yes. Say you're mine."

The demand was calm, but his grip on Q's cock tightened and as he stroked him, he squeezed roughly.

Q nearly pushed back and said no, that if Bond wanted to own him, he needed to just claim him- But they'd already fought today, and Q didn't want James to leave again, not after what had happened tonight.

"I'm yours," he said softly. "I was always yours, from day one."

Bond's grip loosened and his hand slid up Q's torso to his throat where he gripped tight.

"How good to hear," he purred.

With pressure on Q's throat, he kicked the boffin's legs apart with his knees, and moved in close.

"You might be the only person's consent I care about," he admitted.

Q struggled lightly against the hold on his neck, a bit startled by the man's words- But this was James, and Q couldn't bring himself to believe it was anything more than the man playing a part. Perhaps James had seen more of him than he'd realized, knew the sort of filth he daydreamed about. It was what he did after all. Q picked apart puzzles and code, James picked apart people.

Eventually he went still beneath James' grip, struggling to swallow beneath the pressure of his palm.

"Then I consent," he said, voice ever so slightly strained.

Bond wet his lips and then smiled, his teeth bright and sharp.

"And I gladly agree," he said, ducking his chin to kiss Q's chest, suck a mark, and then bite him hard enough to mark him with a bruise that would linger for days.

The harder he bit, the harder he got and he ground his cock against Q obscenely.