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Q
He hadn't been nervous until he'd found himself in a gown with pen marks on his skin. Laid back on a gurney in medical, a strap across his chest to secure him, that was when he looked to Q.
"Let's get you relaxed, 007," R said, giving him a pat and pushing some drugs into the line into his arm.
Bond opened his eyes to the featureless January sky out the window- stories above, shown for his viewing pleasure on a screen with some curtains hung on it. He took a deep breath and then smacked his sticky tongue against the roof of his mouth. Clearing his throat, he looked around and it all came back to him. Nothing after R's pat, of course, but the reason he was here.
"Q?" he rasped, knowing he'd be close.
"Let's get you relaxed, 007," R said, giving him a pat and pushing some drugs into the line into his arm.
Bond opened his eyes to the featureless January sky out the window- stories above, shown for his viewing pleasure on a screen with some curtains hung on it. He took a deep breath and then smacked his sticky tongue against the roof of his mouth. Clearing his throat, he looked around and it all came back to him. Nothing after R's pat, of course, but the reason he was here.
"Q?" he rasped, knowing he'd be close.
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Q took his time, enjoying how it felt to just indulge in the other man without worrying he might be in pain or uncomfortable. He teased and toyed with him, until finally he let his cock slip from his lips.
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Bond sighed softly, and reached down to stroke Q's cheek.
"Now you can get to my socks," he smirked.
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"Absolutely not," Q said, so surprised by the request he actually scoffed.
Q had never been very obedient, but it was clear in the time James had been injured he'd forgotten he should at least pretend.
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Bond still had the buckle end of the belt in his hand and he lifted it to drag the cold leather along Q's back as a threat.
"You're certain?" he asked evenly.
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Q shivered a little, watching Bond with that owl like gaze behind thick rimmed glasses.
"I'm certain."
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A heartbeat later, the belt lashed his back as Bond kept his eyes locked on Q.
"You're certain?" he asked again with a dark, wicked twist to his smile.
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Q whimpered but didn't back down at all. He knew what he was asking for.
"I'm certain."
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Bond wet his lips, changed his grip, then struck him again. And again. And again.
A gentle finger lifted Q's chin.
"Socks," he said simply to offer Q a rest.
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Q was visibly in pain, doing his best not to cry out at each strike, but when James spoke again, he remained stubborn.
"Absolutely not," the boffin replied.
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"You're certain?" Bond challenged, just one more time.
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It was only then Q seemed to hesitate. He liked the pain, the sting of it- But that didn't mean he didn't get nervous.
"I'm not taking off your bloody socks," he said finally. "That's disgusting."
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"You'll be licking your own come from between my bare toes if you keep it up," Bond scolded sharply.
He didn't hit him again, though. He let his clothes fall and stepped out, socks still on...and only socks on. He lifted Q and tossed him onto the bed, then began to lash him. The hardest lashes landed on the bed near him, and most fell across Q's thigh.
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Q took it, but eventually tried to squirm away.
"Stop," he gasped, whimpering a little and wiggling away.
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Bond dropped the belt, but hardly stopped. He reached out to grab Q and strip him of every stitch remaining.
Even his socks.
With a firm grip on Q's ankle, he drew a nail sharply along the sole.
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Q tried to pull free, but finally seemed to submit as he went still on the bed, holding Bond's gaze.
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Bond's nail went still, but he kept his hold and pressure.
"You're on your feet all day, Q. You should show a bit of respect. Disgusting?"
He curled his middle finger to his thumb, then flicked the center of Q's foot hard.
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Q yelped, trying to pull his foot away. Then he did something a bit bold, kicking at James with the other.
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The fight was on, then. Bond blocked his kick, shoving his leg away, only to pounce on Q a moment later. It was no easy tast, but Bond got on top and pinned both Q's arms.
"Have you forgotten everything since October?" he taunted, aware Q knew just which buttons to push to get what he needed out of Bond.
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"Forgotten everything about what?" Q challenged, still struggling. "I'm sure I don't know what you're referring to, James."
He twisted a little, then tried to roll them over. Though he couldn't quite get the leverage.
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"I thought you were trained up more than this. Has Harry been light on discipline?" he asked mildly.
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"I don't need discipline," Q huffed, squirming again, and then doing something he wouldn't have dared do just days ago for fear of hurting the other man- He gave Bond a kick.
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"Oof," he grunted, then paused to look at him.
"The hell you don't," he said, swiftly grabbing, pulling, twisting Q to get the brat over his knee for a proper swat.
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Q protested loudly, struggling hard and making James work for it. Really work for it. Eventually he settled in though, whimpering softly but notably aroused.