#qilva

Stranger: Everything was going rather well for Q. He had a beautiful job with access to all files he needed, good trust with everyone in MI6, and their own best agent under his thumb. And it had all been /so easy,/ Q was almost disappointed. But ultimately he did it, for the good of Silva's network. Everything was going to plan. He just had to wait a little longer, let everything settle since the Skyfall incident. Once Silva resurrected himself, though, everything would be set into motion. He tugged on the sleeves of his coat as he climbed the stairs of his flat and unlocked the door, stepping inside and shedding his bag, coat, and shoes. "James, love, I'm home," he called out into the flat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose to keep them from falling down.

You: There was no answer from within the dark flat. James heard the sweet voice he'd grown to love calling out for him, but he couldn't bring himself to answer. There was a lump in his throat suppressing all that he wanted to say. Billowing curtains and the smell of cigarette smoke were the only clue leading to Bond's location on the balcony. There was a whiskey glass on the metal table beside his chair, though it only contained melting ice. His eyes closed to listen, something quite instinctual by now. He wanted to hear the footsteps, imagine Q finding his way to the balcony. His heart ached as he did, his throat growing dry.

Stranger: Q looked around and followed the familiar smell, hearing the pattering of the gentle but growing rain outside. "James? What are you doing outside, it's going to really start raining soon." He told the man in a gentle voice, stepping outside and looking down at the man in the chair. "Are you alright?" Something did seem off about him. Had been for a few days now. The way he didn't quite look Q in the eyes anymore, but lurked around Q-Branch like he was taking his last glimpse of it all. Despite himself, Q worried.

You: James certainly knew what it was to feel betrayal. When he saw the messages on Q's mobile it was like an old friend come back to him. Betrayal. It haunted him, rotted the love he felt, and yet he continued to search for love. He brought the last breath of his cigarette to his lips, taking it deep into his lungs before he tossed the butt out into the rain. Bond let the smoke buy his time, watching it linger in the damp, dark air. He hadn't told anyone. To think that Q would fall away from him the same as all the rest was too much for his mind to bear. For the first time he had tried to understand, but he was missing the information he needed to truly put himself in Q's place.

Stranger: "James, you're scaring me." Though most of this relationship had been Q acting, this part was genuine concern. If he lost James to the merciless clutches of madness, he would have not only lost a good game-piece but he also would lose his closest confidant here, the man he could tell not everything to but quite a bit. He didn't want to give that up. He knelt down next to the older man's chair, reaching out to take his hand. "James?"

You: The hand moved from Q's path before their skin touched. James turned to face Q, his quick reflexes exposed as his fingertips slid up the back of the other's thin neck. When he clutched at the messy curls it was with a bit too much strength, and one could smell the strong liquor on his breath.

Stranger: He stiffened at the sudden hand on him, though he wouldn't have had it been kinder. "James, I want you to be more careful with me. You're hurting me." He said evenly, keeping his eyes. Jesus, was he drunk? Q would not die like this, that was for certain.

You: Bond loosened his grip, but he only pulled closer. He was still quiet, with blue eyes trained on Q's to spot the slightest change. When he finally moved it was to press their lips together, his palm going flat against the back of Q's head. There was a roughness to the kiss, but through it was a true passion. A desperation, really.

Stranger: Q was surprised at the sudden move of affection, but closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall into the kiss, for a moment entirely vulnerable. Something about James had always been different from his past lovers, but even this was too different to describe. Something had changed in James, and Q wasn't quite sure yet what it was.

You: Bond drew a breath as if he were about to speak, but just as he did the rain began to beat against the metal above them. There was a mist coming in from raindrops hitting the balcony railing. James let go, moving to stand. He could feel the lump throbbing, like his heart trying to crawl out of his throat. It distracted him enough that he felt his shoe slip as he walked around Q to go back inside. He reached out, catching his balance on the doorway.

Stranger: Q jumped up at the man nearly falling, grabbing onto his shoulders to steady him. "James, say something, please," he murmured worriedly, steering the man back inside and shutting the balcony door behind him. Now the rain was only a dull patter against it, and they were only slightly wet.

You: Pushing through the doorway, James escaped the hands on his shoulders. Feeling so unstable only rattled him more. All the past was in his mind, screaming at him to give up on the man who stood behind him. It was protocol to report a traitor. To stop whatever nonsense Tiago was planning before he could use Q's mind to bring it into reality. He turned to look at Q, searched his face for anything to make himself angry enough to do it. But all he found was concern, confusion. "I love you." Were the words he chose at Q's request.

Stranger: The tension was building, Q was worrying, and for /those words/ to leave his lips, to find their way to Q's ears and ring through them - he smiled softly. "I love you, too, darling." He promised, though part of him wished it didn't feel so empty. "Now, why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

You: Bond looked away. He tugged his necktie the rest of the way off, throwing it onto the sofa to join his jacket. "I came home early because I failed. The agent I was sent to find. . . She's dead." He lied with a silver tongue. It felt easier, more natural to lie, sending a wave of temporary relief through his system. James traveled through the dark flat to the kitchen, hunting another glass in the cabinets.

Stranger: "Oh, darling," the words were spoken smoothly as a sound of sympathy, and he followed after James slowly as he tried to wrap around him in a hug. "I'm sorry. You can't let yourself get so beaten up about it. There wasn't anything you could do, was there?"

You: Sighing, the agent's hands pushed against the countertop to bear the weight of Q against his back. His eyes closed again, this time to feel instead of listen. Warm skin beneath damp clothes and the steady pulse through Q's chest. "There's always something that could have been done." He murmured when he finally slipped away from the embrace. There was a sound of glass dragging along the counter, followed by the door to the freezer and cubes of ice.

Stranger: Q sighed softly after him, hands sitting empty in the air before dropping back down again. "Well, I wouldn't dwell on it too much, alright? Don't let it get to you."

You: Those words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He closed the freezer door to look at Q, almost scowl. "I'll try not to." James didn't hide the sarcasm in his tone, and left the words in the air between them as he disappeared into the study. He drained what was left of the crystal bottle and cracked the seal on a new whiskey to fill it again.

Stranger: He watched him go sadly, eyes lingering on him until he stepped out of sight. Q could only do so much, he supposed. "Let me know if there's anything I can do, love." His voice was sad, lost, careful.

You: James locked himself away, but he couldn't stop himself from listening. He was aware of every footstep, every tap on the keyboard. A need for closeness destroyed all of James' hopes of deep thought. Q was already settled in bed when the agent finally allowed himself out into their room. His fingers worked slowly to unbutton his shirt while he slid his shoes off in the closet. "Still working?" He asked as casually as he could manage, glancing up at Q while he worked on getting his belt loose.

Stranger: Q had glanced up when he heard James walk in, like a deer stumbling in nervously. "Yeah, just finishing." He said after he realized the question was prompted to him, giving him a small smile. He closed his laptop after locking it and slid it away, lifting the covers to invite James in.

You: Once he was down to his boxer-briefs, James eased himself down slowly onto the bed. His body ached for touch, feeling lost in the big bed without Q against him. He lay still, anyway, eyes on the ceiling.

Stranger: Q waited until his computer was put away and James was fully settled before he chanced moving forward, coming close as he always did in order to soak up James' warmth. He'd always had cold blood, and James had always been the cure. "I love you. You know, right?"

You: James offered Q a smile through stiff lips as a response. It took him a moment, but he slowly moved to wrap an arm around the other. Another wave of relief; but, like a pill or a drink, it felt empty. It might as well have been a prostitute beside him. He probably would have preferred one.

Stranger: "Something's wrong." Q muttered softly. "Not just the mission. I know it." He shifted to rest his head against James' chest, to hear his heart beating and to close his eyes. "You don't have to tell me about it. But if you do, I'm here."

You: The words rang in his ears and Bond just tried to be still. He managed to stifle a change in his pulse, taking slow breaths to try and clear his mind. It was a long while of rain stained silence before the words finally bubbled up in his throat. "What makes you do it?" He whispered. "What drives you to be so. . . brilliant?"

Stranger: Q listened to his tone, his voice inflection, his words. Everything was so . . . off. What was it? "Flatterer," he played along with a tiny smile, batting at his chest gently. "I'm not so brilliant. Just not oblivious."

You: "I'm serious-" He almost said the name Quiver before stopping himself. "You are brilliant, you know you are. What's brought you so far?"

Stranger: He smiled softly to himself, shaking his head. "I don't think I'm as brilliant as you say. Just . . . mildly more intellegent than the average person. That hardly makes me something amazing." He murmured into the darkness. "I don't know. A pathetic determination and a pretty face, I suppose."

You: Bond's muscles tensed. He swallowed thickly, almost making him cringe. "You're hardly pathetic. I-" The agent closed his eyes tight, forcing himself to speak again. "I want to know why. Why are you here?"

Stranger: "Why are any of us here?" Q gave the traditional answer easily, yawning gently. "I'm exhausted."

You: He wanted to let that be the end of it. To let them both fall asleep for a few precious hours and let go of the circumstances. But James knew that exhaustion was what he needed to have the truth from Q. His fingertips pressed in against the soft flesh of the other's shoulder, holding him as if he would slip away. "Would you leave with me?" He asked quietly. "If I retire, I mean."

Stranger: Q's eyes opened, staring blurrily at the outline of James' chest. "I don't know," He replied honestly, tracing his fingers along the man's stomach carefully. "Why? Are you planning on doing so?"

You: "I could. There's plenty money for us both to live somewhere away from all of this." He moved slightly to look down at Q's fingers against his skin. "Disconnected."

Stranger: "Disconnected?" He asked, pressing his lips together. "Now you're talking about being away from my computers," he murmured with a soft, light tone, though there was an underlying nervousness in his voice. It was minor. He could pass it off." I've always had computers, even as a child."

You: "I'm talking about us escaping together. Exploring what nature has to offer." It was the truth and the truth always sounded awful to James. "I'm so tired of cities and cars and computers. So tired of people. I only want you."

Stranger: "I'm flattered, James." His hand had long stilled against his stomach. "But you know we could never do that. Not with our jobs. You never just retire>"

Stranger: .*

You: "You could do it, darling." James felt himself building up. His free hand slid against Q's cheek, tilting his face so they could look at each other through the dark. "You could make us disappear without a trace."

Stranger: Q stared up at him and for a moment he wanted to do it, wanted to nod and make plans and run away never to be seen. But that could never happen. "Even I'm not that good, James.' He whispered. And he wasn't only talking about MI6 anymore. He was talking about all of it.

You: With those words James felt a hole sucked through his chest. The place where Q laid his head was hollow.

Bond let his hand slide away, his head falling back down against the pillow. "Goodnight." He murmured, in a voice almost too dry to hear.

Stranger: Q wanted to push harder, to get to the bottom of James' upset, but he only murmured his own goodnight and closed his eyes. They had to be okay. This had to be okay.

You: In the morning, someone sat in the living room waiting for Q. James had long ago left the flat, waking before dawn to shower and escape. It was Tiago who was so calmly seated in the wide armchair, hands folded in his lap. He, too, had his eyes closed, listening and feeling. There was a smile on his lips when he finally heard feet on the cold hardwood floors of the flat. "Good morning." He called, voice traveling like music through the open hallway.

Stranger: "Jesus." Q breathed softly. This was not okay. He hadn't had a single cup of tea yet and here his boss was, sitting in his flat and giving him that shark-like grin. "Silva, what are you doing here?" He asked blearily, pushing a hand through his pillow mussed hair as he padded over to the kitchen to put the kettle on. "You know it's dangerous to be this close. Somebody might see you. James might come back."

You: Tiago leaned against his fist, a chuckle echoing from his chest. "Do you think he will come back?" He asked with a curiosity deeper than the obvious thought.

Stranger: "Of course he will. Why do you ask?" He replied sleepily, dropping a teabag into a generous-sized mug and waiting for his water to boil. He leaned against the counter, tugging at the sleeves of his jumper easily. "You didn't answer my question."

You: "I watched him this morning." Silva sighed, ignoring the question once again. He dropped his arm, leaning around the back of the chair to look towards Q. "Lifting weights, running-" He paused with a sound of playful delight. "So much frustration."

Stranger: "I know. Something's up with him." Q nodded understandingly, pouring the water over his tea and rooting through the cabinet for his honey. "I'm /this close/ to figuring out what."

You: "Of course he thinks you're sleeping with someone else." The older man almost groaned, as if it were annoyingly obvious. He rose to his full height from the chair, smoothing his jacket as he turned to face Q. "You mustn't let him go looking for your lover." Tiago smirked, taking a few slow steps forward. "James is so easily swayed by touch, it shouldn't be difficult."

Stranger: Q glanced up, bringing the cup to his lips and taking a long sip. "I should have guessed." He murmured, eyes not leaving the man's. "He'll trust me. He has through worse things than a spare lover."

You: While Q spoke, the blonde drew closer. His eyes roved over the thin man in his pyjamas. Tiago hummed, standing right before Q to look down on him. "I wish his suspicions were true."

Stranger: "Do you?" He asked conversationally, cupping his tea in both hands now.

You: Silva let the silence between them grow, a saccharine smirk on his lips. "I understand," he murmured finally. "It's much easier to work on your knees for /James Bond/." He said the name dramatically, eyes rolling. However, a smile never faded from his features. Tiago savoured the next few moments of silence before he turned away. "I understand." He murmured again as he walked to the door. "Good luck!"

Stranger: Q smiled after him, reluctantly setting down his tea to follow him and turn him around by the shoulders. "You didn't really think I was going to pass up such a lovely offer?" He asked, glancing down for a moment. "Are you going to kiss me, or will I have to get on my toes to do it myself?"

You: "Adorable." Silva breathed, lips breaking into a full grin. His hand slid into place in the small of Q's back, pulling him in firmly. When he leaned in it was to lap at the other's lips first, leading him to the kiss he wanted.

Stranger: He shifted closer, wrapping his arms around the man's neck, and leaned up to meet his lips. His green eyes fell shut beneath his glasses, his hands running gently through his hair.

You: Something of a purr resonated within Tiago. His fingertips slid past the waistband of Q's pyjamas, stroking against the bare skin at the base of his spine.

Stranger: Q gave a soft noise of his own against the man's lips, pressing ever closer to the man.

You: After a few more lavish kisses, Tiago leaned down further to press his lips against Q's neck. Only a teasing touch, before he eased down onto one knee before the quartermaster. His hands slid under the cuff of the other's right leg, sliding the fabric up until his could place his kiss on Q's knee. Tiago rested his chin there when he looked up, hand clinging to Q's thigh. "I hope he is careful with you."

Stranger: He gave a moan, his head dropping back to reveal more of his pale neck, before Tiago moved away. He glanced down with lust-filled eyes. "He does. As best as he can, in his circumstances." He murmured, running his fingers through the man's hair. "I feel sorry for him, sometimes."

You: "And what do you feel for me?" Tiago hummed, his fingers stroking further up Q's thigh.

Stranger: "I certainly don't feel sorry for you," Q murmured lowly, biting his lip to keep further noises from escaping.

You: That was amusing enough to draw another chuckle from Tiago. He pulled the the leg of Q's pyjamas back down neatly. When he rose it was slowly, with eyes locked on the younger man's. Arms encircled Q completely, then. He pressed his forehead to the top of the other's head as he whispered. "When you are with him. . . I want you to think only of me."

Stranger: Q felt a shiver run up his spine. "Of course," he whispered lustily, looking up at him.

You: "Practice, hm?" Silva gave a quick wink, opening the door to the flat behind his back.