"You don't know that," Q said, shrugging and pulling away as he went to sit on the bed.
"I don't think either of us can predict what might happen at six. Everytime I think I have it all figured out, something changes or shifts. Half the time I don't even know if Mallory is going to scold me or give me a raise."
Bond gave him a curious look.
"Q...You're the youngest Quartermaster in the history of MI6. If anyone were more capable, you wouldn't be here. You're not going to get sacked," he scoffed.
Bond had no idea about Q's past. He'd done a cursory search, knowing Q wouldn't have a public profile, and wasn't surprised when he found nothing. He'd heard a few things, but not much.
He honestly found the fact that Q was a mystery to be a bit of a thrill.
Q wanted to say he was also a massive fuck up- But he couldn't bring himself to. He didn't want the other man to know about his past if he didn't have to tell him.
"I suppose," he said softly.
"I hope you're right," Q said, hesitating, then offering his hand.
"Come to bed?"
"You might, you do like to surprise me," Q pointed out between kisses. "One day you might abandon me, leave me a husk of a man..."
"You say that, but people leave cats on the street all the time. Give them pretty little collars and then discard them in parks," Q insisted, though he was laughing a little, the melancholy a bit put on now.
Q smacked his shoulder, frowning slightly. "I'm being vulnerable, you absolute twat."
Though for all he was sulking now, he clearly wasn't as upset as he was pretending to be.
Q happily squirmed beneath him, until he took James in hand and started to pull him off.
"I love you too, James," he said softly, his tone more sentimental now.
He wondered if Q would burn down the world if anyone harmed the double 0, if he could possibly love Bond as much as Bond loved him.
There was only one way to know, and he hoped, for both their sakes, it was something that would never arise. Bond groaned as Q's hand proved the ultimate distraction from any thoughts of love or disaster.
Sometimes this still didn't feel real, that Bond couldn't have chosen him. Why would he? He was perfection, and Q was just... Q. But he was here and he was claiming him as what he wanted, and... And it was everything.
"You're even more beautiful in moments of pleasure."
Q's hand stilled, but he rolled his hips a little so Bond could feel his arousal.
"You drive me mad," he said as he formed to Q and began to grind against him. "I want you more than I care to admit. Do you have any idea how much effort it took today in M's office? Almost too much..."
Bond would never crack, but he also rarely admitted how difficult it could be to hide everything.
"Good, now you know how I've felt since we met," Q gasped.
Q hummed in agreement, then moaned into the kiss, pressing closer and practically clawing at him.
"That first day, at the museum... You thought I was some student trying to pull you. I might as well have been, because I knew I wanted you the moment I saw you," he confessed.
Q was sure no one had ever spoken about him the way James did. He'd always been lost in the crowd. He didn't think himself unattractive, just... Nothing special.
"There was nothing in that place as beautiful as you," Q said quietly. "When I saw you... I'd seen photos, I knew you were handsome, but... You are so much more than just handsome. It's not just your looks that drew me in, it was the set of your jaw, the way you spoke... I knew I wanted you."
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