Chapter Text
Q had been lazily twirling his spoon around his fingers, barely touching the ice cream that he’d asked for. His mother was having harsh words with his sister about how she’s been acting and ‘If their father had been there he’d never accept her behavior.’ Cue the angry shouts of his sister calling their mother a name, and the sound of his mother striking his sister in the face. More shouting came after a few minutes and then the slamming of a door.
It was yet another typical day in the Brastwick house, and Q was already bored. He sighed and was about to abandon his ice cream altogether when he walked into the room. Q shivered in his seat, just watching him move, all focused and ready to jump at the snap of Q’s fingers.
James was perfection. All muscle and sinewy under that delicious black suit he wore. His blonde hair, cropped short, just begged for Q to run his fingers through it. His eyes were just pools of crystal clear water that just looked through Q’s body, through his soul. Father had employed him to work in the house a few years ago, after James showed up one day applying for the job. And Q had fallen in love with the man. And he wanted him. Badly.
Q hummed and began to lick the back of his spoon, tracing along the curve of it, hoping to catch the man’s eye. “James, what’s on the schedule today?" he asked looking up at the blond, tongue still working over the back of the spoon.
James looked up at and nodded his head in a greeting. What in the hell was Q doing with his…oh. James swallowed thickly and greeted the young man. He stood up straight and said, “It would seem that there isn't anything on the schedule today, Master Q. Your mother hasn't been feeling well and insisted that everyone stay in the house today."
Q frowned and dipped his spoon into the ice cream and brought it back up to his mouth, slowly licking over it. “She’s just upset over Father’s passing. I’m sure she wouldn't mind if I slipped away for a while." Q said with a shrug.
God, if Q didn't stop his little trick with that spoon James was going to lose his composure. “I’m sure she is, sir. It was very sudden." Very sudden indeed. James himself mourned the loss, in more ways than one. He sort of…well, had a relationship with Q’s father. One that was more personal than any other he’d had. Mr. Brastwick had given him a home and a job, and more. He was pained by the loss, but had to keep his head about him when it came to his day to day duties.
Q sagged a bit in his chair. “Yeah, I guess it was." he mumbled, dropping his spoon into the bowl in front of him. He looked out the window and sighed, pursing his lips. There just had to be a way to get James alone. Because Q wanted to just…see him break that perfect composure.
Always so straight, and centered. Ready to scurry off and fulfill any wish that either Q, Q’s sister, or his mother wished. And everything was so damn precise. Q could see the soldier left over from the blond’s past, as Q had watched James make the beds, and he’d inspect them, (because he was curious and James’ hands were magic) and they’d be perfect. Not a wrinkle in sight. Q wanted to see him come undone. In more ways than one.
"Will that be all, Master Q?" James asked, locking his hands together behind his back. Q looked over, eyes wide and face reddening as he’d forgotten James had been in the room.
"For now, James. For now."