Q was furious. If James was awake or at least not connected to so many machines that made it seem like they were living for him, he would have been more than happy to show him just how hard he could hit someone. But, as things stood, with James looking more like a wraith than an actual human being, Q was afraid that even breathing too loudly next to him could cause him more harm.
“Why can’t you be careful?” He asked the comatose agent for what felt like the millionth time. “Not with your equipment, no; I gave up hoping to ever see that back in one piece a long time ago. With yourself.”He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face.
Three months had passed since James was brought back from Death’s realm and stuck in purgatory and the infuriating man was refusing to open his bloody eyes. Some people were starting to lose hopes and one of his minions made the grave mistake of outright saying that it would be better if they pulled the plug and found a new 007 – the man was still stuck on server dusting duty and Q wasn’t feeling like forgiving him anytime soon.
“You’re doing this just to cockblock me, aren’t you?” Q whispered in James’ ear, clutching the side of the bed tightly to keep himself from touching him. “Well, I am sorry to inform you, but your doctor is quite hot and if you don’t wake up soon, I’ll… I’ll…” He trailed off and sighed.
He had run out of things to threaten James with and that left him feeling empty and completely useless. Quartermasters were supposed to guide their agents back home, but James was still lost in a world for which Q didn’t have a map.
“Can you just open your eyes already?” His voice shook. “Or maybe I am going about this the wrong way and instead I should tell you to just keep sleeping since you always do the exact opposite of what I say? If I start telling you to come back on a stretcher, a miracle will occur and you’ll return in better health than when you left?”
James remained silent and Q’s heart only got smaller. Maybe tomorrow things would be different or maybe not. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to give up because Quartermasters never did and he simply refused to allow James to be the first agent he lost – plus, he planned on killing him personally when he got better for giving him his first strands of white hair at the tender age of not-ancient.
The door opened and James’ doctor stuck his head in the room, his eyes somehow filled with even more pity at the sight of Q. “I am terribly sorry—”
“Yes, I know,” Q interrupted the man, getting up and grabbing his satchel. “The visiting hours are over and no one in here likes bribes or threats of being technologically crippled unless they allowed me to stay.” M was still fuming about that slip of tongue on his part.
“We will notify you if something changes during the night, Mister Boothroyd,” the doctor promised as usual, holding the door open for Q.
Glancing at James, Q finally couldn’t ignore his need to touch the man and carefully brushed his hand alongside the man’s arm, shivering at how cold it felt. If it weren’t for the constant beeping, Q might be tempted to think that the man was dead.
“If you dare to flatline, I will get someone from MI13 to drag your consciousness from wherever it goes, trap it in a Ben doll and force you to listen to me scolding you right before I gift you to M.” He pushed his fingers against James’ wrist just to be sure the machines were working properly. “I want to be notified even if his heartbeat changes, do you understand?”
The doctor smiled sadly at Q and walked over to him, grabbing his free hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “The nurses and doctors on the night shift have been informed of that, yes.” He started to pull him towards the door, repeating the words he had told him since James had been brought in: his condition might change any minute, be it for better or for worse and he would be the first person notified of any changes. He should get some rest and eat since it did James no good if his condition deteriorated to the point of being his room colleague.
“After all, I am assuming that you will be his crutch when he wakes up,” the doctor concluded, checking his pager.
Q nodded. He had been that since the day he became Quartermaster; he’d seen James at his highest and lowest and he didn’t think the agent would allow anyone else but him to see him in a position that proved he was a simple human.
“I will be back tomorrow,” Q said and the doctor smiled sadly at him again.
Something was beeping right next to him, dragging him out of his dreamless sleep and it annoyed him because this was the first time in weeks when he wasn’t actively trying to wake himself up from a nightmare.
“Yes?” He breathed into his phone, still struggling to open his eyes and ignore the headache that came out of nowhere.
“Q? Q, I need you.” James said urgently from the other side and just like that, Q was on his feet, blindingly looking for his laptop.
“You always do.” He tripped on something, landing right in front of his laptop. “Just let me boot up and I will be able to assist you in a second,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. There was something else that he was supposed to do, but his mind was still mostly asleep and he couldn’t remember what it was.
“Q, I need you to come here. I need to be sure it’s really you,” James insisted, something clattering in the background. “They’re telling me I’ve been in a coma and that I am back in London, but I don’t trust them, Q; I don’t hear Big Ben, I can’t see the Eye, I don’t know where I really am.”
Q was fully awake then, happy and excited. “I’ll be there as fast as I can.” He pulled on the first pair of pants his eyes landed on and started to struggle with his shoes. “They’re telling you the truth, James.” He didn’t think the shoes where the same, but at least he had the right one on his right foot and the left one on his left foot.
“I am not letting you anywhere near my phone and I am not putting the bedpan down until I see you with my own eyes,” James threatened, obviously talking with the people around him and not with Q.
“It’s fine; that’s fine. The phone is charged, I am on my way so feel free to talk about anything you want.” He grabbed his wallet, the first jacket his eyes landed on and then bolted out the door, not even bothering to lock it. The building belonged to MI6 and every apartment was under careful surveillance. No thief was going to get to do more than reach his living room before someone took them down.
It was also thanks to that same security system that an MI6 car was waiting for him when he stumbled out of the building, the driver holding the door open for him and helping him enter it without tripping on his own feet of bumping his head against the roof.
“I want to be sure you’re really my Q,” James breathed out, sounding confused and weak which only made Q wish he’d been allowed to finish his teleportation device, scrambling of atoms and horrible consequences to the human body be damned. “You sound like him, but after seeing the things I did, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were no more than a machine that is perfectly capable of imitating his posh accent.”
“You know the hospital where 007 is recuperating?” The man nodded. “Take me there as fast as humanly possible,” Q ordered, turning his attention back to the phone conversation. “I will not apologize for the way my voice sounds–”
“It turns me on,” James interrupted him. “I realized that when I hear that husky voice tell me to do something, even if I end up doing the exact opposite, I want him. I want him so bad to mewl my name, to order me to move, to beg.” He let out a shaky breath and Q struggled to keep his eyes open. “So if you are just a machine, I will track you down and rip out your vocal chip to give to Q to add it as a voice option on my GPS.”
The driver took a sharp turn and Q almost dropped the phone. “Bond, if I do that and you trash one of my cars because you were too busy doing something that would normally land you in an unscheduled meeting with the MI6 psychiatrist and would freak a normal person, I will personally equip you with a chastity belt.”
James chuckled and the driver ran a red light. “That does sound like something my Q would say, but I am still not convinced.”
“Well, I suppose I could start moaning since you are the only one in MI6 who listened in on me having sex.” He hit the driver’s seat when the man outright turned to look at him. “I am rushing to the hospital, but I really don’t plan on getting there in the back of an ambulance,” he hissed. At least there was no possible way for this man to be a mole, since he was horrible at listening in while pretending not to do so.
“You are Q,” James breathed out and Q heard all the tension disappear out of his voice. “Are you still cold? Do you still want me to keep you warm tonight? Because I am more than willing to cover your naked body with mine.”
Q snorted. At least he knew for sure James’ memory was intact. “At how cold to the touch you were just a few hours ago, you’re the one who needs to be kept warm.”
“And will you?”
“Yes,” Q said without skipping a beat. “If you are nice to the nurses and doctors, I will keep you warm as well as play doctor with you until you no longer need me.”
The car came to a screeching stop and Q jumped out of it, ignoring the guards and nurses that were yelling at him to stop and headed straight for James’ room. Of course he found the man on top of his bed, managing to look threatening as he held a bedpan like it was a gun, a huge smile spreading on his lips when he saw Q, phone dropping on the ground.
“Tisk, tisk, tisk, Q. You are out of uniform,” James teased, dropping the bedpan as well and lowering himself on the bed, growling when all the strangers rushed to him and blocked Q’s path. “He gets to touch me first and if you want me to cooperate, he is in my field of vision at all times.”
Q gently tugged on his ear, clicking his tongue. “If this is the way you treat your doctors and nurses, then I am sticking you in medical under Nurse Hildebrand’s care and you know perfectly well how she reacts to your usual bullshit.” He motioned for the medical staff that it was safe for them to start doing their jobs, lightly holding on to James’ hand.
James was mostly civil while receiving the check-up, although he did seem to have something against the doctor. He always interrupted him when he talked with Q, tugged on Q’s arm when he smiled at the man and outright refused to let go of his hand when he wanted to shake the doctor’s hand.
“James,” he snapped when the man took his other hand, “you won’t get any lollipop if you keep acting like a five-year old.” He turned to the doctor who was doing everything he could not to look him in the eyes, face obviously red with embarrassment. “What is he on because he’s normally not this childish. Perverted, yes; close to throwing a fit because of something, never.”
“We did increase his morphine dosage, so he might act a little bit strange,” the doctor explained, stepping away from Q when James started to push him away with his head. “He will not get violent and even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to really do anything other than threaten people.”
“As if I’d threaten my—” Q covered James’ mouth and the doctor excused himself right after assuring Q that the hospital would make an exception in his case and allow him to spend the night if he so wished.
James had started to lick the palm of Q’s hand, occasionally placing little kisses on it. It felt surprisingly good and Q had half of mind to replace his palm with his lips, just so he could test for himself James’ kissing ability, but since the man was currently drugged, now was not the right time to settle his curiosity.
“You taste good,” James mumbled after Q moved his hand away from his mouth.
“Well, the lollipop would have been Quartermaster flavoured, but since you were so rude to the poor doctor…” He trailed off and James whined, forcing Q to sit down on the bed next to him. “Did he do anything before I got here? Or maybe before you got a hold of your phone?”
James shook his head, pouting - and what a pity Q couldn’t reach his phone; he would have loved to take a picture of him looking like that. “His name is Albert and that makes him your type.”
Q looked confused at James. “Can you explain the train of thought you used to reach that erroneous conclusion?”
“His name is Albert,” James insisted. “Only slightly worse than Bob from MI5 and thus, just the man you’d share your bed with. And this one, unlike MI5’s Ben is easy on the eyes, smart enough to hold an actual conversation with you if he is allowed.”
“His name was Bill,” Q corrected automatically. “And just because someone has a basic or boring name doesn’t make them my type.” He lied down on his side when he figured out that was why James was tugging on his arm, careful not to touch James.
But of course James wasn’t satisfied with that so he buried his head in Q’s chest and struggled to throw his leg over him - Q took pity on him and helped him. He settled down after that and Q managed to kick his shoes off without falling out of the bed or hit James and closed his eyes, for the first time in three months not bothered by the smell or the sound.
“So,” James muttered just as Q was falling asleep, “when do I get my Quartermaster flavoured lollipop?”
Q started to laugh. It was the hysterical type of laughter, but he couldn’t help it. He finally felt free of the burden that was weighing down his heart and his brain seemed to think that this was the only proper way to react. “Definitely not in here and not when you are like this,” he wheezed out, wiping the tears from his eyes.
“But I’ll be the only one from now on, right?” James asked after Q swatted his hand away from his face, annoyed at how mesmerized the man seemed at his lack of glasses. It was cute and endearing, but beyond annoying when you were nursing a headache.
“If you want,” Q said carefully after thinking for a minute, James already snoring. Well, it didn’t matter. This conversation was best had when neither one of them was high on painkillers.
M’s hideous porcelain dog hit the ground and Q tried to see if it was okay. “Leave it,” James growled, digging his hands in Q’s half-opened shirt to keep him in place. “That blasted thing is tougher than M was.” He bit down on Q’s exposed collarbone to be sure he was distracted, getting rewarded with a low moan.
“James, something is practically stabbing me in my left cheek,” Q pated out, rubbing his knee against the growing bugle in James’ pants. “And I assure you that’s not where I want to be poked or what to be poked with.”
Although he was told to do minimal effort until he fully recovered, James still lifted Q with ease off of his coffee table, squeezing Q’s ass and keeping him from complaining with a deep kiss.
When they kissed for the first time – right after Q woke up with James cradled next to him in the hospital bed – it had been animalistic. They growled and grunted low in their throats, tongues wrestled for dominance until Q finally gave and allowed James’ to twirl, push and brush against his, bit their lips and bumped their teeth together, Q’s spicy taste mixing perfectly with James’ surprisingly sweet one blended in and created something they both got addicted to and of which they could never get enough.
If James hadn’t been connected to machines that went crazy and brought an army of nurses and doctors, afraid that the man was having a heart attack, they would have done way more than just make out.
Q tore his shirt off and wrapped his lips around his nipple, licking it before it, ending up on his back, with his pants pulled out. He giggled and licked his lips, unzipping James’ pants with his toes, running his hands down his naked body.
“I’m cold,” he whined. “I’m cold and I need you.”
James also needed him and, pulling his pants off, pushed against Q and helped him wrap his legs around his waist. “I’ll take good care of you,” he promised, kissing Q slowly before moving on to attack his neck, planning on leaving behind a mark for all the world to see and know that he was no longer on the market.
Q moaned and tilted his head back to give James more room, dragging his nails down his back. He took James’ right hand and started to lick and suck his index finger, rubbing against him.
“No; the first drawer, right next to the gun,” James instructed in a hushed voice, letting him move away from him only to push his head against his lover back and squeeze his ass as Q dug around for the lube.
Q turned to look at him, eyes half lidded and for a second, James thought that he had screwed up and crossed a line. But Q chuckled and rolled to face him, moving under James and wrapping his arms around him. “You can spank it. You can tug on my hair, tie me up, bend me over my own bloody desk and take me until it breaks,” he rubbed their faces together and then bit his ear. “You are allowed to do everything to me and more.” He blocked James from kissing him, suddenly looking serious. “Provided we talk about the rougher things.”
“I wouldn’t dream of doing something to you that would actually hurt you,” James muttered against Q’s finger, smiling when he was pulled in a slow kiss. He slowly dragged his hands down Q’s sides, slipping one on between them and drumming his fingers softly on his stomach and just as he was about to start teasing Q’s tip, a phone rang.
But not just a phone. Q’s phone.
“Well, you’re here, we’re both on leave for the next week, so who the bloody hell is the moron interrupting me this time?” Q snarled, slipping out from under James and pulling out his phone from his pants, anger replaced with surprise and even joy when he heard the other person’s voice.
James sneaked next to him and pushed his ear against the phone, draping the soft covers over the shivering man.
“I can’t tell you how pleased I am to hear that you are on your way back, Alec,” Q said and James wanted to groan and chuck his phone out the window. “You managed to bring back your car and your gun?” He turned his green eyes to James and that was when the alarm bells started to go off in the agent’s head
Oh, hell no. He’ll be damned if he let Alec cockblock the Quartermaster when he was the one trying to cock him and he may he be stuck for eternity behind a desk, writing reports by hand if he allowed his best friend to steal Q away from him with equipment brought back in pristine condition.
He snatched the phone from Q with ease, the man doing nothing more than click his tongue and narrow his eyes. “Alec? Yeah, I have Q’s phone for the exact reason you are thinking about.”
“So, I am guessing that crashing on your sofa when I do get back is out of the question? Or is this a one night thing?” Alec asked, sounding so amused that James would have punched him in the face if he was in the room with him.
“Not a one night thing.” He pulled Q closer to him and kissed his temple. “In fact, when you do run your mouth off to R and Eve, feel free to shout on top of your lungs.” He didn’t even flinch when Q pinched his side. “It’s going to spare me having to track down every MI6 member and scare them away.”
“Bond, if my own minions end up too afraid to even be in the same room with me, I will use your balls to decorate me Christmas tree,” Q warned, biting hard on James’ lower lip.
James groaned and his eyes rolled in the back of his head, almost dropping the phone. “I am afraid I have to go now. Don’t call back or I will shove every phone I can find up your ass,” he muttered, making sure to end the call before pushing Q down.
Q’s sex noises were only for his ears.