Chapter Text
What the hell am I doing?
It cost James all of his willpower to remind himself that he shouldn’t—couldn’t—get carried away in the moment. He couldn’t lead Q into thinking that there could be a ‘them’ in the immediate future. Even as Q’s fingers tightened in his short blond hair and pulled him closer, while James carefully arranged his weight around Q as to not crush him, James knew he should be pulling away by now. Five minutes ago, even. He pressed another kiss against Q’s lips, the bridge of his nose bumping against the glasses before James tilted his head for a better angle. He began disentangling himself when Q whimpered, a small sound that James would have otherwise missed if he hadn’t been so close. James softly shushed him as he indulged himself long enough to run a hand through the thick black curls that he’d often fantasized about and twist a handful of strands around his fingers and pull back to expose Q’s pale neck.
I can’t do this. Not to him.
Swallowing back the knot in his throat—he’d never get this close again—he kissed Q’s lips one last time, lingering for a few moments before he released Q’s hair and gently laid the younger man back down. Noting the confusion in Q’s eyes as he reached up and gently unwound Q’s arms from his body, James moved off the couch with a grunt, careful not to crush Q’s body. He walked over to the flat door and made sure it was locked before turning to Q. “Deterrent for double-oh two, I think Alec might have told him how to get into the flat,” he said, suddenly unsure of what to say. Shaking his head, he ran a hand through his short hair before he said, “I apologize, for overstepping boundaries. It won’t happen again.”
Q raised an eyebrow as James crossed the flat towards the kitchen. “Wait, it’s not your fault,” he said, promptly getting up off the couch to follow James into the kitchen. “Bond, James, listen to me,” he said, catching James’s sleeve and forcing the agent to face him. “As I wanted to say, there’s nothing to be sorry for, please talk to me, I hate it when you push me out,” he said even as James slid the suit jacket off and thus out of Q’s grip. “James, I made the first move, remember?”
“I know, and I shouldn’t have encouraged it. Trust me when I say it won’t happen again,” James said grimly before heading down the hall to grab another suit jacket, not particularly caring if it didn’t go well with his trousers.
“James, wait. Just, just… just stop!”
James paused for a split second before ignoring Q and going back to ruffling through the closet in an attempt to keep his hands—and attention—busy until Q gave up. He had to. James didn’t know what to do if he didn’t. “Give double-oh two about ten minutes to cool down, and then it’s safe to leave. Tea and kettle are in the kitchen if you want,” he said, pulling the first suit he saw. He momentarily hesitated, and then froze when Q grabbed his shirt collar.
Silence, and then, “Q, let me go.”
He didn’t see what Q did, just heard the floorboards creak as Q shifted nervously and released his collar. His heart sank, when he heard the familiar defeated sigh, more heartbreaking in person than through an impersonal earpiece. “James, I’m sorry about the kiss, it won’t happen again,” he said finally. James listened as the footsteps began to retreat, heading back towards the kitchen. “Do you want coffee or tea?” he asked, pausing in the threshold.
“Whiskey.”
“Coffee it is,” he heard Q say, and smiled despite himself. He bowed his head as he heard Q leave the room and head towards the kitchen. Slowly exhaling, he knew he needed to say something to salvage the situation and make sure that no blame lay anywhere. I can’t let him close, but it kills to push him away like this. He glanced towards the door that opened into the hall that led to the kitchen, where he could hear Q searching through the cupboards for the coffee, tea, or most likely both.
Why am I doing this to him?
To protect him.
Straightening, he leaned back, stretching his neck before turning and heading towards the kitchen. Fiddling with his cuffs, he entered the kitchen to find Q hunched over the counter, head bowed as he stood next to the kettle. Pushing aside the guilt settling in his heart, James leaned against the doorframe and said, “Q? What just happened-”
“I know, won’t happen again,” Q interrupted, turning around and flattening himself against the counter. He fidgeted slightly and said, “I, uh, misread your intentions that’s all. It won’t happen again, I mean, there’s a reason I’m not a field agent, I’m not that good with reading people, just you when you’re lying to me about your equipment because you do it so often,” he said, looking anywhere but at James as he spoke. “And I know you have someone else, something I chose to disregard in that moment, my fault entirely so please don’t blame-”
“Q.”
Q promptly fell silent, but squared his shoulders as though attempting to appear defiant before James. Now or never, I have nothing to lose at this point. “There is no one else, there never has been for a while,” James said, slowly approaching Q, giving the other man an escape route for as long as possible. “You once said I could talk to you if I was ready. I am ready now.” Placing a hand on the counter on either side of Q, he rested his forehead against Q’s, idly noting the quickened pulse even as Q bowed his head slightly to make it easier for James to rest. “Everything I said in the archives was true,” he said, feeling Q’s forehead wrinkle as he thought back to yesterday. “You deserve so much better than me and my six-month lifespan, the only reason I haven’t snuck out of the menial tasks at Q-Branch is because it means I can be with you without anyone questioning it, and your cat is actually either possessed or a demon from hell who doesn’t like being shoved through a window.”
Q snorted softly. “Who doesn’t like being shoved into a window?” he asked, and James chuckled despite himself before he gently nuzzled Q’s temple.
“I don’t want to drag you down with me, I like that smile too much to risk damaging it permanently. It’s better that we remain friends, colleagues, and nothing more because it will hurt you otherwise. I am a double-oh agent, but I know to be careful not to be cruel to those who matter,” he said, allowing Q to pull him closer into a loose embrace.
Q scoffed weakly, sniffling a bit before he said, “You’re being cruel right now, you were cruel in the archives when you were telling me about what you do for that other person and it doesn’t fucking matter who that person is.” Gripping James’s lapels, he tilted his head to brush a kiss against James’s cheek. “I hadn’t forgotten you since you were the only person who agreed to stand as witness in my defense during the investigations into M’s death,” he finally admitted, his voice barely audible. “I never—I still don’t understand why you did that.”
“Well, it wasn’t fair to leave you high and dry when it was my idea in the first place, and I was feeling self-masochistic at the time. Admitting fault to face punishment from the committees seemed like a good idea at the time, especially since M wouldn’t let me on missions yet,” James replied, wrapping his arms around Q’s waist as Q pulled him closer so that their bodies touched. He sighed, squeezing Q gently once before he said, “Maybe that’s why I’m telling you this, to hear you tell me to fuck off.”
Q shook his head before laughing bitterly. “Then you’ll be waiting awhile for something that will never come,” he said, resting his head against James’s chest. “I really should tell you that, though.” He hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Then why will you still walk away after this? I am going to continue to hurt after this, you know that. Because it doesn’t stop just because you said we can’t be together, it doesn’t fucking work like that.”
“But it won’t hurt as much.”
Q pushed James away to make eye contact, brow furrowing in anger. “You claimed that you had six months. Let me have those six months,” he said, voice hardening slightly even as James carefully reconsidered his next step.
“No. Because when I die, you’re going to grieve and I know how painful it is to lose a loved one. I don’t want to subject you to that,” James said, reaching up to brush his thumbs gently against Q’s warm skin. “You’re too you-”
“Call me ‘young’, and you’ll be wishing you can take it back within five days,” Q warned, a smile twitching on the side of his mouth despite himself.
“Noted.” James sighed and attempted to untangle himself only to have Q tighten his grip. “Q…”
“Shut up, my turn,” Q snapped, the sharp tone startling James. “I know more than you think I do. Aside from the fact that I’m your Quartermaster and therefore have the resources to recover missing footage to see each time you injure yourself chasing after equipment, I have Friday tea with O’Reilly, and he likes to complain about you, a lot,” he said, tapping James’s nose as he straightened as though to regain control. “I mean, to know that you were injured is one thing, but that you did it to retrieve equipment…James, that stuff is meant to save your life, not risk it.”
“Yes, double-oh nine said as much,” James said, attempting to extract himself again; he’d seriously underestimated Q’s determination.
Q exhaled sharply. “What I’m trying to say is give me those six months. I know the risks James, I see it every time I send double-oh nine or two out on missions together or separately. They know they’re living on borrowed time, but at least they make the most of what they have,” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. “Please, please just give me those six months.”
James hesitated, staring into the expressive green eyes that had always captivated him. Brushing the dark hair back and around Q’s ears, he carefully leaned forward and kissed Q gently on the mouth, aware of the wet streaks on Q’s cheeks. Q held him close before whispering, “Just six months. Please just give me six months.”
Did double-oh nine tell you that I would always give you what you wanted?
Praying he wouldn’t regret it later, James sighed. “Six months,” he said finally, shoulders slumping as he held Q close, tucking Q’s head underneath his chin. “Under one condition.”
He felt Q stiffen. “What?”
“We don’t tell double-oh nine about it. We carry on at work as though we’ve agreed to remain separate, but keep this to ourselves. For one thing, broadcasting the relationship would put you further at risk, and two, it will drive double-oh nine crazy if she thinks that we’re still not together,” James said, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers through Q’s hair, silently reveling in the other man’s proximity.
A soft laugh. “Deal.”