Disclaimer: I don't own "Spectre," the 007 franchise or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: Set post-Spectre. After things with Madeleine don't work out, Bond is left wandering again as an un-bonded Alpha. But things take a chance turn for the interesting when there is an unexpected accident in Q's lab.
Warnings: alpha/beta/omega dynamics, alpha/omega, drugs, drugged state, sex pollen (but not really), slightly dubious consent because Bond is a pervert.
Noctifer
"Aren't you lovely," he breathed. The words practically a coo as Q snarled at him through the thick, double-panned glass. The same glass Q had told him was all but explosion proof as he'd retreated behind it. Trembling and tripping over his words as the toxin started to take effect. Filling the air with a confused tart of conflicting signals before the scent of distressed Omega singed his sinuses like a flash-burn. Making him double over and cough as Q used the opening to tumble into the interrogation room and lock the door from the inside.
Clever boy, that he was.
He let go of a low, Alpha chuff as he prowled up and down the line of the glass. Letting Q watch him. Letting the Omega that lived and breathed under the man's skin get a good long look. Drinking him in like he'd never seen anything quite like him as the wet dart of Q's tongue traced the seam of his lips. Feeling himself harden in his slacks as somewhere - locked in a box under concrete and chains in a distant part of his subconscious - a long slumbering thing yawned and stretched. Cocking its head in lazy recognition. Purring and satisfied as it issued its verdict in waves.
Yes. Him. This one.
He knew he was posturing - hell, practically preening at this point - but he couldn't help himself. There'd always been something about Q. Right from the start. First it was the kid's age. Then it was his ability. His trustworthiness and banter. Getting his first real taste of the bite behind the bark whenever he saw fit to upend Q's life or invade his lab like the absolute terror he took pride in being when the mood struck.
But seeing him like this?
Stripped down to raw instinct and drives?
Well, it just reinforced what he'd known about himself all along.
He was far from selfless.
Most Omegas in full season - drug-induced or not - were a mess of beautiful softness and lush curves. Pliable and open to suggestion. Wet and desperate for the first decent Alpha with a healthy cock and a superior attitude to see them through their heat. Everything else more or less went out of the window when biology got involved. And the morning after was rarely a pretty sight.
But not Q.
As always, Q was an enigma.
Leaving him with the realization that if all things were equal and Q hadn't gotten into quarantine at the last second, he'd have to earn his right to have him. He'd have to prove his worth, in the old way. With the blunt of teeth and Alpha strength and maybe even a bit of wooing for good measure. And even then Q would be the one to accept him. Not the other way around. And he'd likely have the wounds to prove it.
It was deliciously refreshing.
Pity all he could do was look for now.
"What have you gone and done to yourself, hmmm?" he murmured softly. Lips tugging into a smirk when Q showed his teeth. Snapping at him impressively, if not ineffectually, as Q's hand tugged at his collar. Skin flushed and glinting with sweat despite the air conditioning Tanner was pumping through the vents. Getting bits and pieces from him and Eve in his ear-piece as they worked on venting the last of the gas. Debating if they should try and neutralize the toxin or let it run its course as Medical jabbered on it his other ear. Wanting status updates he soundly ignored. Knowing they had the cameras running regardless. "You knew better, but here you are, with a face full of some experimental drug from god knows what forsaken country. You really do need to be more careful, darling."
The fascinating part was that it was still Q.
It wasn't as if he was gone, or merely stuck underneath somewhere, powerless against the thrall of the drug.
No, it was more like the drug had stripped him clean.
All those little neuroses and secret inhibitions that stem from your upbringing, interests and darkest desires had come out to play. Leaving Q with who he was at his core and almost nothing else. His truest self. The one that existed under the film of civility, manners and stuffy jumpers the quartermaster seemed to wear in layers regardless of the weather.
And it seemed as though Q was more likely to sink his teeth then show his belly.
He watched with naked interest when Q fisted at his collar again. Yanking down, like undoing his tie was altogether too much for him. Skipping right down to the buttons as the sound of ripping cloth filled the room.
He twitched, every muscle immediately on point when Q let go of a violent little keen. Stuffing his hand inside his ruined trousers and around his cock with a sound that made him want to ram his Aston right through the god damn glass. Watching with an unfamiliar, dark sort of eagerness as Q's hand came back covered in slick. Knowing it was for his benefit when Q looked him right in the eye when he raised that hand to his mouth. Forcing him to balance there for a breathless second before the boy's tongue finally- finally flirted out to taste.
Bloody- fuck.
A low growl of intent - pleased and hopeful like an overture - rumbled without his consent. Able to tell the exact moment Q heard it as he smeared the wet of his hand across the glass with a base sound. Knowing it was a stand-in for something far more physical as the air above his head thickened like he'd been the one drugged instead.
Imagining for a moment he could actually smell it filling his nostrils as Q's pants lost their battle with gravity and pooled around his ankles. Revealing colt thighs and knobby knees as the boy firmed his hand around his cock and started pumping. Desperate for relief.
"You're mine," he told him, softly enough that only the two of them could hear. Uttering it wetly against the glass with lips that caught and dragged with a sinful chill. Leaning in like his weight alone could break it as Q snarled again. Quieter this time. Able to watch it all happen as something shifted in the back of those dark eyes – something like recognition. Leading Q to curl his shoulder and rub against the glass. Covering the splay of his palm with the press of his body as the thick glass kept them maddeningly apart.
This time he didn't even bother trying to temper down the Alpha in him that wanted him almost flat against the glass. Fingers curling desperately around unforgiving nothing – and gaining no traction - as a trickle of slick wound it way down Q's thigh.
"Oh, darling, the things I'm going to do you," he hummed, letting his cock dig painfully into the unforgiving line of his slacks and then the frictionless surface of the glass beyond as Q looked at him through a mop of sweaty curls. Eyes like lit coals as he writhed - lost and desperate - against the flat of his own palm. Showing him what he liked as his breath whooshed heavily across the glass, humid and warm. "My gorgeous, boy. I promise you won't have to wait long."
Q just snarled again.
And frankly, the idea of a lasting, romantic love had never made as much sense to him as it did in that moment. Because hell if he ever planned on sharing Q with anyone.
Ever.
A/N: This story is now complete. Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think.
Reference:
Noctifer: the nightbringer, the evening-star.