Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The polite refusal from Madeleine had stung a bit. He was still fragile, still in his tarnished state since skyfall and he supposed diving head first into an affair with Madeleine was an old habit, yet a reliable one. Until it wasn't.

She cupped his cheek, as she shook her head. "You're not in love with me James" and it was true enough, but lust and adrenaline, combined with a shared connection was enticing enough for any lonely, decaying man.

He had smiled at her though, feeling her smooth fingers graze his cheek until the warmth was gone and he was left alone again. Her parting words ringing in his ear.

"You want him, stop tangling yourself in obstacles."

He wasn't tangling himself in anything. He scoffed as he poured another drink, liquid ember burning his throat and warming his chest as he sighed into his glass.

He couldn't entertain the possibility that he was so obvious in his wrongs that Madeleine picked up on it in what? The 3 minutes she had been in the same room with him and Q? He bloody well knew he was the worlds greatest arse for his feelings toward his quartermaster. Knew he should've kept himself away, but Bond liked to be so close to things that they burnt him, pricked him until he was just scraps left to be pieced together by only himself. A dog licking their wounds and then returning back. 

Q wasn't cruel, wasn't twisting the knife into James. He was the opposite- protective, loyal, caring. All the things James needed but didn't deserve. Not from Q. Not from the boy who wore horrendous cable-knit jumpers and talked about his cats with fondness to one of the deadliest assassins in the world.

Q was the first person to have their back to him and truly believe he was safe. With Q there were no doubts. Just as there were none from James, but James knew better. Knew that he wasn't the greatest option for Q. Knew that he'd love Q and rip his own bones out if that's what Q needed, but it wasn't. Q didn't need, didn't deserve a bounder. But sometimes he convinced himself that the look on Q's face was more than just amusement and fondness at their shared banter. That Q felt the sometimes lurching feeling of romantic affection toward him. He felt pathetic when he woke in the early hours of the morning, the phantom feeling of arms wrapped around him fictitious and mocking. The cruel reality that he would never wake with Q by his side, that he would never get to walk the halls of MI6 with Q and get to peck him on the lips in lieu of a goodbye.

It felt like he was in a pool of water, his hands holding onto the edge, but his entire head and body submerged in these taunting scenarios that played in his head and he had to pull himself up and out, before he lost it all.

His mind drove itself in circles— returning back to Madeleine's words. Because what if he hadn't curated a mythical possibility of him and Q? The quartermaster was not a feeble, naive individual. He knew James more intimately then any other person in the world did. James knew though that it would be have to be his move to make. Q would follow him to the ends of the earth and James would do the same, but James had to be the one to stop the running. To just hold onto Q.

He hated his mind and body for being so unreliable. Was he finally going to stop the endless cycle of long looks, lingering touches, and private smiles? Or was he going to let it continue, until it what? Simmered away into nothing but disappointment and Q being forced to turn away from him or worse James leaving forever.

James sighed into his empty bedroom, his hands clenching around his pillow in his lap. The darkness of his room doing little to help soothe the pounding in his head.

James stood in front of the mirror soothing his jacket down. His skin was losing its color from the brief stint in Italy with Madeleine, but the grey of his suit helped it seem like he was intact, still the agent who fucked off whenever he wanted to. Not a crashing tower. 

The heels of his shoes clicked on the tile floors, quick nods to agents as he walked away from the bustle of the main area towards Q-Branch. Q was standing at the front, an orange cardigan with navy blue patterns on it adorning his already scrunched up shoulders. His glasses were slid down to the bridge of his nose and his forehead was wrinkled into a frown. 

James almost turned right back around, his heart lurching, but Q had chosen that moment to look up, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile and his voice ringing right through James. 

"Hello 007." 

James walked up to Q, his steps self-assured, but the betrayal came from his mind. He took a deep breath before replying. 

"Hello Q." 

Chapter Text

James tightened his coat around himself, the cold cutting into him like shrapnel as he walked through the city. The faces that passed him were a blur, he just moved through them, dragging himself until he stood in front of Q's apartment building. 

He hadn't said anything there in Q-branch. He was still indecisive about whether he should tip them over into something as he looked at Q, taking in the glint in his eyes and the little scar on the corner of his chin from shaving. 

"Shaving accident Q?" James asked, aiming for a cocky tone as he placed both his hands on Q's worktable. 

Q glared at him lightheartedly, "I wasn't paying attention while shaving." 

"I'd recommend a straight razor Q" and James reached forward, the pads of his fingers ghosting over the healing scar. Q seemed to unconsciously lean into James's touch. "I hear you have quite an affinity for them 007." James felt like he was absolutely suffocating. He was sure his heart was going to land there right in between them. 

He shouldn't have ripped his hand away just seconds later, Q's skin hot and soft and James didn't think he'd ever stop feeling it on his fingertips. But he did and had to see Q's brows dip into a frown and then had to hear the sound of his footsteps as he left Q-Branch.

He didn't have anything to do. No mission, no gadgets to try. He tried spending time with Moneypenny, but he was drifting in and out of the conversation so much so that he promised to have dinner with her and then left. Alone again. 

He entered his flat, the bareness of it startling him. He had books stacked on the floor and dust coating every surface. He wiped and swept through the day, sometimes the light strum of music filling the apartment and sometimes just blaring silence. When James finally sat on his couch, his shoulders ached and he felt like his brain was filled with static. 

He glanced out the window and saw the streams of grey and yellow as the sun began to set. He could have just sat right there. Maybe put the television on, but he showered quickly. The streams of water hitting his tense muscles. He didn't bother to look at himself as he put on a black sweater and trousers, the light hint of his cologne clinging onto his clothes and his skin. 

He should have rang Q-- there was almost a hundred percent chance Q was still at work, but when he buzzed into the building he was surprised to hear the click of the door open. 

"We didn't have plans for dinner tonight" was the first thing Q said when he opened the door for James. James smiled as he moved past Q, "I just wanted to drop by." 

Q did a once over at James, "without any food. Disappointing. I may have some cheese we could do something with." 

"I was hoping you'd be making one of those intricate meals of yours and that I would be lucky to share it with you" James said, sitting down on the couch and waiting for Q to do the same. Q tucked one leg under him as he sat next to James. 

"I don't think I'll give you a nice intricate meal after you left so suddenly today." James could feel Q's eyes staring at the side of his face, but James could only stare at the blank tv screen in front of them. 

"I had some cleaning to do." 

"Cleaning." 

"Yes." 

"I can tell when you're lying you know." 

James did look at him then, the corner of his lips curving into a smile, "I'm only omitting some of the truth, I really did clean today." 

Q hummed, his knee pressing into James's. "Do you want to watch a movie?" Q asked and James heart ached at how mundane it all was when they were together. How they shared dinners, how they watched movies, and went to book shops. How they sometimes just sat in silence as Q cooked or they both read on opposite sides of the couch. James ached-- his body, his mind, it all ached so much. 

"Q" and James couldn't stop the overwhelming breath of air he took in. Q was devastatingly beautiful as he looked at James and James couldn't do this. Couldn't ruin them. But he also was selfish because he placed his hand over Q's, slotting one of his thighs between Q's legs. "I'm sorry Q" was the words he spoke next, watching as Q's lips turned down into a frown. 

"James, for what?" Q asked, moving closer to James. "For loving you all this time and not doing anything about it." Q continued to frown at James, before a small chuckle left his mouth. "I suppose I have to say sorry to you as well then, we've both been quite... idiotic in all this." 

James looked at Q, seeing Q give him one of his smiles that James seemed to always see behind his eyelids before he slept, when he woke. 

James thought it had been bad before. The endless ache, the endless need to want to be with Q, to think about Q at all times, but he couldn't have predicted how bad, how good it all became when Q kissed his lips and James got to tangle his hands through Q's hair, and tell Q all the things he had hidden, buried, dragged along all these years. Now Q buried himself under his skin and he felt more open than he had ever before. He didn't feel like that was a bad thing. It was hard to when he had Q to eat dinner with overnight, Q in his ear guiding him through missions, a bed to share, and a home to make theirs. It all was very good.