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I Missed You

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“So you're not dead.”

“Hello, Q. I've missed you,” James grinned, all too happy as he simply shoved past Q through the open doorway. The younger man turned and levelled a glare at Eve.

“Did you know about this?” he demanded and she shook her head, smile dropping a little.

“He walked into MI-6 this morning,” she said, shrugging. “Did you really think he was dead?”

Q sighed as he stood aside for her, politely, and closed the door behind her.

“No, but there was a part of me that hoped,” he said bitterly. “It would have been easier.”

Eve put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

“You know I wouldn't have brought him here if we had any other choice,” she said softly. “I'm sorry.”

Q smiled and took a deep breath. “Well, I've survived James Bond before. I'll live,” he said far too brightly and Even raised an eyebrow at him. He shrugged, and followed the sounds of tinkering in his kitchen, hoping Bond hadn't already managed to locate his one good bottle of alcohol. He had, of course.

- - -

Two hours later Eve was asleep on the couch, having passed out almost as soon as they had finished picking through the pile of Chinese takeout. Q took a throw blanket from the closet and draped it over her, dimming the lights in the living room before he went to the counter and picked up the glass that had sat there all evening, waiting. James had already taken the bottle out to the terrace and with a sigh, Q followed him.

“You know, I never expected to see you again,” Q said softly, leaning against the doorframe, glass of scotch held tightly in one hand as his eyes roamed over James' back.

“I know,” James said quietly, his fingers tightening minutely on the rail. He frowned, his gaze half on the London skyline visible from the balcony of Q's flat, barely seeing the lights flickering.

“Why did you come back?”

“Why do you think?” he scoffed, lifting his own glass and draining it, before setting it aside on the table and leaning back on the rail.

Q sloshed the amber liquid around his glass for a long moment, face thoughtful and mouth turned down in a deep frown.

“Because Madeline turned out to be not what you thought or what you expected, but exactly what anyone else could have told you after five minutes with her. Because she was hiding something from you so important that you couldn't forgive her, no matter what it was, why she did it, or what happened. Because once again you made a snap decision and it came back to kick you in the arse, because you never stop and think, you never consider that your actions might leave a fallout, a trail of destruction ten miles wide, and you never consider who you might be hurting along the way!”

By the time he was done Q was nearly shouting, glass clutched tightly as he pushed off the doorway and crossed the balcony to stand next to James.

“You never think,” Q hissed and James' shoulders slumped.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry,” Q scoffed, downing his scotch and nearly tossing the glass on the table where it wobbled precariously before settling.

Reaching forward he wrapped his fingers around the lapel of James' jacket and tugged the other man around and forward, crushing their lips together in a harsh and demanding kiss. James' breath hitched and one arm wrapped instinctively around Q's waist, pulling the slimmer man closer, even tough he let Q keep control. Q tilted his head and bit down on James' bottom lip, taking advantage when the other man gasped, his mouth opening under Q's onslaught.

James groaned when Q's tongue licked across his lips and into his mouth, the taste of scotch and Q flooding his senses. He slid his free hand into Q's hair, tangling his fingers loosely in the shorter threads, missing Q's long curls.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered against Q's mouth. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” he said between kissed, pulling Q close, his hand trailing down to Q's face, cupping his cheek and running his thumb over the scar just under Q's eye, a souvenir from his kidnapping.

“Sorry is never going to be enough,” Q growled.

“I know,” James breathed.

Q's hands were demanding as he tugged on James' jacket and they both stumbled slightly as they tried to navigate their way back inside, toward the stairs, pausing just long enough to slide the balcony door shut, and being just quiet enough not to wake Eve as they kissed desperately, hands already working on buttons and ties. James' jacket fell at the bottom of the stairs, Q's cardigan and shirt, still tangled together, hit the floor above the top stair. James hissed when Q pushed him back against the bedroom doorframe, the corner digging into his back between his shoulder blades.

One of them, Q isn't sure who, had the foresight to shut the door quietly, then they were moving toward Q's large bed, hands working at belts and trouser fastenings as Q's glasses were tossed none too gently on the bureau as they passed. Q gasped when James stopped them in the middle of the room, pulling back far enough that he could catch Q's eyes before he slowly sank to his knees in front of the other man.

“James,” Q muttered but James shushed him, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Q's trousers and underpants, pulling them both down in one smooth movement, baring him completely. A moment later Q had to bite down on his own hand to muffle the gasp as James' mouth enveloped his cock, slowly taking him all the way down until James' nose was pressed against his stomach.

The sight of James on his knees, willingly, was enough to make Q's head spin. In all the times they had done this, hours, weeks, months between encounters, James had never once given up control the way he was doing tonight. Since the moment on the balcony he'd allowed Q to control their frantic kisses, to guide them here to the bedroom, to be the one who said what happened. Now, he rested his hands lightly on Q's hips and looked up at him, his gaze nearly pleading. Reaching down, Q wrapped his fingers around the back of James' head, thumb pressing at the hinge of his jaw as he tilted his head back just a little. James pulled back until Q's cock was resting lightly on his lips, his breath more than a little laboured.

“Please,” he said softly and Q groaned, grip tightening as his hips jerked forward, his cock sliding into James' mouth, down into his throat, pressing and holding there a long moment before he withdrew, repeating the motion again and again. His eyes rolled back in his head and his other hand dropped to James' shoulder as he continued to fuck his mouth, shuddering at the feel of James' throat around him.

James whimpered, his fingers tight on Q's hips as he worked his tongue along the length of Q's cock, keeping his throat relaxed as he breathed through his nose, eyes closed as a calm came over him. Being here, on his knees, being at Q's mercy, it was something he'd never thought he'd enjoy, or want, or need so desperately that it felt like he was breathing fresh air for the first time in years.

“Enough,” Q gasped not long after, moments from falling over the edge from the heat and wet of James' mouth and the skill of his tongue. He pulled back, pushing James away as he took a deep breath, willing himself some calm and restraint. As wonderful as it would have been to come down James' throat, he wasn't done with him yet, and he wasn't going to let this end so soon.

“Q?” James said softly, his voice rough, and Q's cock twitched.

“On the bed,” Q growled, tugging James' up and shoving him back, making quick work of his trousers and the one remaining sock. He reached for the side drawer and pulled out the lube he kept there, watching with satisfaction as James' eyes dilated even further at the sight.

“I'm going to fuck you,” Q breathed as he leaned forward and took one earlobe between his teeth, worrying it briefly before biting down and drawing a sharp gasp from the man under him.

“Yes,” James let out in a rush, his whole body going limp as he sank back against the bed.

Q smirked, eyes roving down James' naked body, taking in every scar, old and new, and the line of bruises down his side. His cock was hard and leaking, twitching as Q's eyes traveled over him. Leaning forward, Q ran a thumb over a scar on James' ribs before he leaned down and ran his tongue, then his teeth over the same spot. He nudges James' legs apart with his shoulder as his other hand opened the small tube, coating his fingers and tossing it aside. He continued to mouth his way across James' chest, fingers sliding town to press and tease at James' hole, then taking one nipple in his mouth and biting down at the same moment he slid a finger inside James, all the way to the third knuckle. James arched off the bed with a gasp that turned into a groan as he gripped he headboard so hard his knuckles turned white.

“Yes, god yes,” he gasped as Q twisted his finger and began to pump in and out in a steady rhythm, adding a second finger within a minute. He moved to the other side of James' chest and gave the other nipple the same treatment, sucking and biting until they were both red and abused. He pushed a third finger inside James, stretching him perhaps a bit more roughly than was wise, enjoying the way James writhed under him.

“Q, please,” James groaned, trying to push his hips against Q's fingers. “Please.”

“Hmm,” Q hummed, eyes sweeping over James.

He was boneless against the dark blue sheets, eyes closed and his hands by his head, now gripping the pillow tightly. There was a sheen of sweat starting at the base of his neck, stretching down his chest to where his cock lay hard and red against his belly, leaking a shiny trail of fluid across his skin. His hips were splayed wide and he already looked more debauched than Q had ever imagined the infamous James Bond had ever looked in his life, shamelessly trying to fuck himself harder on Q's fingers.

Suddenly, Q couldn't wait another moment and he withdrew his fingers, sliding his slick hand up and down his own cock a few times before he scooted forward, covering James' body with his own and lining himself up as James' arms came around him, holding him close.

Sliding into James' body was like coming home. Like everything that had been wrong with the world had suddenly righted itself and Q knew he was in serious trouble. He'd know for years he felt more for James than the other many ever would for him, that he was in love, and he'd developed all those pesky feelings he'd sworn never to develop for another human, but this was beyond all that, because he knew this would likely be the last time he ever got to experience this feeling.

“Q,” James whispered, his hands sliding down Q's back to grip his ass and pull him closer, deeper, their foreheads pressed together as they shared the same air.

“James,” Q gasped, his hands sliding under James' back and taking hold of his shoulders, holding him tight as he drew back and then slammed forward, fucking into James hard and rough.
“God, Q!” James moaned.

“You're mine,” Q growled in his ear as he continued to fuck him at a bruising pace. “Do you understand that? No matter where you go, what you do, who you bed, you're mine.”

“Yes,” James managed to gasp, his head thrown back and the room around him vanishing bit by bit, overwhelmed by sensation.

“Say it,” Q demanded.

“Yours,” James said, hands squeezing tighter on Q's ass, encouraging him to go faster. “I'm yours.”

Q pulled back, causing James to groan, before he pushed the other man over on his stomach and pulled him up on his knees, spreading him open as he sank in again in one swift thrust, the new position providing the perfect angle to catch James' prostate with every thrust.

“Q, fuck,” James groaned, barely able to keep his hands under him as Q fucked him hard. The bed was creaking and they'd probably woken Eve, but at this moment neither of them cared. It wasn't like she didn't know their history.

James shuddered, his head hanging between his shaking arms, his back arched as he rocked back against Q, meeting him move for move. He couldn't even think of touching himself, if he moved one of his hands for even a moment, he was going to collapse to the bed in an undignified heap.

“Tell me what you want,” Q growled in his ear, pressing his chest against James' back, one arm wrapping around his waist and holding him steady as he continued to grind into the other man in short hard thrusts.

“I want you,” James groaned, turning his head and leaning his forehead against Q's cheek.

“Yes?”

“Please,” James nearly sobbed and Q shuddered, dropping his forehead against James' shoulder. There was a dark thrill running through him, having James at his mercy. He should have pushed for this years ago, but it wouldn't' have been the same. It was so much better like this, with James giving in willingly, letting himself be dominated, begging to be dominated.

“Please,” James gasped again and Q groaned, reaching under him and wrapping a hand around his cock, gasping when James clenched around him.

“Are you going to come for me?” he whispered and James whimpered, rocking back against him as Q's hand stroked him in time to his thrusts, driving the other man closer and closer to the edge.

James nodded, unable to speak as Q's hand sped up, twisting just so and he could barely hang on. Two more particularly hard thrusts and a squeeze of Q's nimble fingers and James was coming, his whole body clenching tightly as his cock pulsed and this arms threatened to give out at any moment. Behind him Q gasped, shoving in hard one more time before he shuddered, holding James tightly as his own orgasm tore through him and he emptied deep inside the other man, feeling the tremors running through both of them as their skin slid against each other, breath loud in the otherwise quiet room. He remained there a long moment, taking as much pleasure as he could from the heightened rush of endorphins before he slowly pulled out and collapsed to the side, gasping. He squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his arm over his face for good measure, unwilling to even look at James. He could still hear the other man breathing heavily beside him, and he jumped slightly when James' hand came to rest gently on his chest.

“I'm sorry,” James whispered again, shifting closer to he was pressed along Q's side. “I'm sorry.”

Q sighed, uncovering his eyes and gazing out the window. He let his other hand come up and cover James', not resisting when the other man twined their fingers together.

“Am I going to see you again?” he asked softly.

“I don't know,” James sighed.

“Are you going to come back?” Q whispered, holding every emotion in his heart at bay. He couldn't face feeling every second of heartbreak he'd felt the last time he thought James was gone.

“I don't know,” James said. “But I do know I need your help. And...if you want me, if you could accept me as I am, as broken as I am, I will do everything in my power to come back. To you.”

“And if I don't want you,” Q grumbled.

James sighed, burying his face in the junction between Q's neck and shoulder.

“I'm a broken man, Q, I can't give you anything. I don't have anything left to give, except the pieces that used to be a person,” James said quietly and Q sighed.

“I thought I was in love with you once, did you know that?”

“I suspected,” James said truthfully. “I hope I never… misled you.”

“I've always known who you were, James. The infamous 007, good for a casual shag or two, drinks too much, attracts bullets like a magnet, and leaves a trail of broken hearts and destruction behind him across the world,” Q said quietly, his voice devoid of emotion.

“00's aren't meant to be people, Q, we're meant to be tools,” James said softly. “I let… I let too many people in. Vesper, you, Madeline. It's destroyed me, utterly and completely.”

“And you think I'd be willing to pick up the pieces?” Q asked, finally turning to look James in the eye.

“I love you,” James said without blinking, his voice low and serious. “I loved you the moment I set eyes on you, but I never let myself acknowledge it. I never let myself imagine that you might want me, especially not after everything I'd done, everything you'd already know about me.”

“What makes you think I want you now?” Q said, voice hard.

“You're all I have left,” James said quietly. “If you don't want me, then no matter what happens, if I survive or not, I won't come back.”

“Hmm,” was Q's only response. He turned away, settling under the covers with his back to James.

“Do you want me to go?” James asked softly, knowing Q had a guest room. He could wake Eve and take the couch while she took the spare room.

“No,” Q said after a long moment. He sighed when James settled, shifting closer and putting his arm around Q's waist, pulling him close as they drifted off to sleep.

- - -

“I'm in place,” James said over the comm channel, double checking his rifle. Half a world away Q sat in his kitchen watching on multiple screens as James and Eve prepared to go into the facility.

“James,” Q said quietly and James looked up at the camera, waiting. Q took a breath.

“Come back.”

On the screen, James smiled.