JAMES BOND

LOST & FOUND


Author's Note:

Pairing: James Bond/Q

Warnings: M/M sex, explicit language, angst, PWP

Disclaimer: James Bond belongs to Ian Fleming and various other people/publishers. I own nothing but the plot and make no money from this story.


James Bond had been MIA for thirteen weeks. An entire two and a half months of absolutely nothing; no check-ins, no phone calls or texts, there weren't even reports of anything blowing up in the area he'd disappeared. Just nothing.

It wasn't the first time 007 had disappeared, so M held off on declaring Bond dead. Q-Branch had done all they could to find him before being reassigned; there were other missions to follow, other agents to outfit, and they couldn't waste all their time trying to find an agent who didn't want to be found... or was dead.

Q, of course, hadn't stopped searching. He still did his paperwork, outfitted the other double-ohs, and was on-hand for any mission that needed him on the comms. But every spare moment he had went into trying to find 007.

Officially Q had been ordered to stand down. Unofficially everybody, even M, was hoping he'd find Bond, either alive or dead. Because then at least he'd be able to sleep properly.

Q practically lived in his office, only ate and rested and washed up when somebody- usually Eve- ordered him to. He got thinner and rougher, his face usually sporting stubble and exhaustion. He'd forgone his usual clothing and walked around in rumpled trousers and too-big shirts, shirts everyone was sure belonged to 007. Nobody could get through to him, make him stop, so they let him be and made sure he ate and slept the bare minimum to keep him alive.

All of this was why, when Bond did finally show up, Eve punched him in the face. M threatened to fire him for the emotional trauma he'd put their Quartermaster through. And even Tanner scowled at him like he was going to shoot the double-oh. Bond was actually a bit worried that Q-Branch, when they discovered him back, would murder him in his sleep. Or make it so that everything electronic he came into contact with immediately went haywire.

Bond was sporting a bruised cheek and a deflated ego when he finally walked into Q's office with Eve, M and Tanner. Q was hunched over his computers like usual, hair longer and more unruly than James had ever seen it before. He looked so small, so tired, that James felt his heart crack. He'd planned to swagger in with his usual vibrato and cop any displeasure Q had with a charming smile.

He hadn't realised how much his lover would miss him.

Tanner cleared his throat but Q didn't look up; not that he ever did, anymore. He was too focused on his search for James.

'Q, love,' Eve said and walked over to the young man. He didn't move until she touched his shoulder.

'What?' he said, voice slightly hoarse.

'Someone's here to see you,' Eve said. 'I already smacked him, but feel free to do it yourself.'

Q frowned when he turned to look at the woman, and she just nodded her head in James' direction. Q's hazel eyes swivelled towards James, and his entire body froze when he realised who he was looking at.

'Hello, Q,' James said, trying for a small smile that was obviously forced. Q just stared at him. 'I... well, Eve really did punch me,' he settled on saying, not sure what he should say. Nobody had ever really cared when he disappeared in the past, so he was unsure how to proceed.

Q turned completely so his body faced James', and his fingers twitched by his sides as his eyes swept up and down the double-oh's body slowly, carefully, as though he was cataloguing everything he could see.

'I'm fine,' James said when Q's eyes finally met his.

'You won't be,' the young man said before walking across the office.

James tensed, unsure if Q would hit him- which he totally deserved, even he could admit to that- hug him, or kiss him. In the end it turned into all three; when Q reached him the younger man punched James in the chest, then wrapped his arms around James' neck, and finally tugged him in for a brutal kiss.

James felt the relief, the anger, the fear, all radiating from Q's body, pressed tightly against his own. He tugged Q even closer and Q jumped, wrapping all his limbs around the larger man, and James had no choice but to grab Q by the arse to keep him up.

It made Q kiss him harder, his teeth suddenly digging into James' bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. James winced and drew back only far enough to say, 'Calm down, love.'

'No!' Q snapped, his arms tightening around the blonde. 'You don't get to talk!' He kissed James again, harder, and James fucking whimpered. 'You don't...' Q snarled, dragging James' bottom lip through his teeth, 'get to fucking...' Q growled and turned to nip savagely at James' jaw, 'talk!' The genius ran his fingers through James' short blonde hair before digging his nails sharply into the older man's scalp and capturing his mouth again.

The kiss was all teeth and tongue, brutally passionate and so unlike anything James had encountered before. Q was usually sweet and gentle, ordering James on the depths of his thrusts, how hard he wanted it, exactly what James should touch and pull and rub. There was no ordering here; Q was taking what was his, leaving James absolutely no room to voice his own opinions.

James found it ridiculously hot and slightly frightening, but he was in no position to complain. He'd fucked up, he knew that now, and if rough sex was part of his punishment, well... James could handle it.

'You!' Q suddenly snapped as they broke apart. His lips were bright red, kiss-swollen, and shining under the harsh lights above. 'You,' Q continued after his eyes skimmed James' face, taking in the new scar to the right of his nose, 'don't get to fucking talk! Two months, James!'

'I-'

'Shut the fuck up!' Q snarled and tugged painfully at James' hair. 'Shut the fuck up!' he repeated, desperation creeping into his voice. 'Just shut up, James, shut up!'

Q was kissing him again before the double-oh could say anything, and his fingers again pulled at James' hair, softer this time.

'Fuck me,' Q mumbled between kisses, 'right now, James!'

James' feet were already moving, carrying Q over to the cot that Eve had had put in after the fourth time Q was found passed out over his desk. He sat without removing Q from his body, the brunette's arms and legs still wrapped around him tightly.

Eve, M and Tanner were still standing off to the side, watching with a kind of morbid fascination. As soon as Bond sat on the cot M cleared his throat and said, 'Perhaps we should give them some time alone?'

Normally he would have ordered they stop, but it had been two and a half months... he hadn't heard Q say so many words since the first two weeks Bond had disappeared. If sex in the office got their Quartermaster back, well... he'd deal with them afterwards.

Eve looked hesitant to leave them alone but inclined her head and followed M from the office, Tanner bringing up the rear. The Chief of Staff shut the door behind them and M said, 'Two hours and you check on them, Miss Moneypenny.'

'Of course, sir,' Eve said and even saluted. 'Maybe I'll get to see them naked, too.'

M snorted and turned, heading for his office, leaving Eve and Tanner standing outside Q's office. When a moan reached their ears Tanner coughed awkwardly.

'Well... I'll head back to work,' he said.

'I better warn the minions,' Eve hummed. 'It'd break their pretty heads if they saw James fucking Q in his office.'

Tanner blushed and just shook his head before walking down the corridor, Eve smirking behind him.

{oOo}

Q clawed at James' suit, not caring that it was pristine, expensive, and fit James like a glove. He wanted it fucking off, like five minutes ago. James did his best to help, but in the end his tie was ripped from his body, the buttons of his shirt popping as Q tore at it with frantic hands. James shrugged his jacket and shirt off, flinging the articles of clothing aside, as Q's hands rubbed up and down his chest and stomach.

James tried to kiss the Quartermaster, but Q batted his head away. His fingers seemed to be mapping out every curve and dip of James' front, tips ghosting over his nipples, palms running up and down flat, smooth muscles. James could only watch and rub Q's arms as the younger man did what he wanted, his eyes roaming over everything he touched.

Only when he seemed to have his fill did Q start on his own clothing, letting James slip the shirt from his skinny frame. James wasn't used to seeing the brunette in nothing but trousers and a button-up shirt at Headquarters- especially a shirt that seemed to be his- but he wisely said nothing.

He didn't say anything when Q pushed him down, either, the two manoeuvring until they were lying horizontally on the cot. Q had kicked his shoes off and James did the same, toeing off his socks as Q pressed delicate, gentle kisses across his throat, down his chest, to his stomach and the waistband of his trousers.

Long, delicate fingers pulled the buckle and leather free, the button and zip following, until Q was tugging James' trousers and pants off with one movement. He stood at the end of the cot and James watched as he removed his own trousers and underwear before going to his desk.

Q opened the top drawer, rummaged around a bit, and came back carrying a bottle of lube. It was something James had put there himself after realising he wanted to shag the Quartermaster over his desk, and Q had never been adverse to it. It had been two months since they'd last had sex, and James was more than ready to go.

Q was still worried; James could read it in his eyes, in the thin press of his lips and the tension still thrumming beneath his skin. Q was worried and pissed and James knew it. Not much scared 007, but a fucking pissed off Quartermaster absolutely terrified him.

James hoped that this- what they were doing right now- meant that they could get passed it, could work back to what they'd had before James had to disappear. He'd have to explain himself- well- and he would. He'd do anything to keep Q in his life, in his bed.

Q straddled James' hips and popped the cap of the lube. He squirted the clear gel onto his fingers and dropped the bottle, hand moving back to his arse. He wasted no time in pushing a finger in, quickly followed by a second and third. James could only watch- his hands were batted away each time he tried to help- as Q opened himself up.

Only when he was done, fingers sliding from his body with a slick wet sound, did Q speak. He leaned over James, lips ghosting the older man's, before whispering, 'Fuck me.'

James sat up and Q's legs wrapped around him. The Quartermaster let himself be pushed down until he was lying on his back, James between his legs. A wet hand wrapped around the agent's cock and slicked him up, and Q guided his dick until the head pressed against Q's dilated hole.

James pushed in without a word, a hiss escaping his lips as his erection was squeezed. Fuck, it had been too long. Q tossed his head back and moaned, lips parting and breath coming out shakily. His legs tightened around James' body and his fingers clawed at the rough surface of the cot before reaching up to tangle in James' short hair.

'Fuck me,' he ordered again when James had bottomed out. Q rolled his hips and squeezed his muscles to emphasis what he wanted. 'Now!'

'Are you sure?' James asked. Q nodded and that was all the blonde needed. He pulled out, almost all the way, before thrusting back in.

It was in no way romantic, or gentle, or soft and sweet. James was brutal, each thrust slamming into Q's prostate and making his younger lover cry out. Q wasn't trying to be quiet like usual; he didn't seem to care if anybody heard him. He begged louder and louder, fingers tugging James down for hard kisses full of teeth and tongue and shared breath.

Q moaned, a breathy little, 'James,' that tore at the agent's heart. Q opened his eyes, so large and bright behind his glasses, and James swore as he fucked Q harder. His fingers dug hard into Q's hips, sure to leave bruises, but Q didn't seem to care. His heels were pressing into James' back and he rolled his hips when he could, trying to drag James deeper in. The cot was screeching against the concrete floor, filling the office with noise that mingled with their moans and grunts, their panting and the wet sound of James pounding into his lover.

Q pulled James down for another dirty kiss and scraped his nails from James' head, down his neck, and to his back. They gouged into the agent's skin and James was sure he'd have deep red scratches and blood on his skin soon enough, but he really didn't care. Q was sweating beneath him, panting and moaning James' name over and over again as he forced James to move faster and harder. He was absolutely beautiful, and for the first time in two months James cursed himself for remaining silent.

The younger man's dick was bobbing between them, hard and bright red, ejaculate making the head glisten. James managed to snake a hand between them and wrapped his fingers around Q's cock. He immediately started fisting Q's shaft, trying to go in time with the movement of his hips, but failing spectacularly when Q arched his back, head tilting and neck looking so long and delicious.

James darted forward and sank his teeth into Q's neck, sucking hard and hearing Q shout above him. The only warning he had was another moaned, 'James!' before Q was climaxing, slicking his stomach and James' fist in come. His muscles fluttered around James' cock as the agent continued to fuck him, and Q moaned and writhed and generally did amazingly sexy things as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

James couldn't last forever, not with Q beneath him, around him, looking damn sexy and thoroughly fucked. A few more thrusts into that tight arse and James' climax was wrenched out of him, making his teeth dig deeper into Q's neck, the metallic taste of blood strong against his tongue as he emptied himself into Q's pliant body.

When James could remember how to move again he pulled out of Q as gently as he could, but Q still hissed as his abused hole was stretched one last time. James dropped down beside the younger man and Q breathed out shakily before rolling over and wrapping himself as best he could around the agent.

Their breathing slowly evened out, the sweat on their bodies grew cool, and Q started shaking and whimpering against the double-oh's larger frame.

'Q?' James questioned, voice slightly hoarse from their coupling.

'Shut up,' Q whimpered and moved closer, even though he couldn't. He'd climb into James if he could, that way the bastard could never disappear again.

'I'm sorry,' the agent tried.

'Shut up,' Q repeated, voice little more than a huff. He could already feel the tears welling, just threatening to roll down his face.

'I know it'll take more than a few apologies and some fantastic sex,' James continued regardless. 'I'll do everything in my power to make it up to you... Quillan.'

Q huffed a laugh at the use of his real name and smacked James half-heartedly. James caught Q's hand and threaded their fingers together, giving them a squeeze before resting their joined hands against his stomach.

A few minutes of silence followed; James didn't speak again until he felt something wet hit his chest.

'I'm sorry,' he murmured.

'I know,' Q sniffed, still crying.

'Just tell me what I have to do.'

Q buried his face in James' neck and sobbed quietly, his entire body shaking against the blonde's. James drew him closer and stroked up and down his back slowly.

'I can give you answers,' James said carefully, 'but I'm not sure if you'll like them.'

Q nodded, but still cried. He cried for a good while until the tears dried up, leaving him shaking and breathing heavily against his lover. James was silent the entire time, letting Q get it all out, soothing the younger man as best he could with soft kisses to his face and hair, and warm fingers rubbing his back.

Q sucked in a sharp breath and breathed out heavily, 'I love you, you fucking bastard.'

James couldn't hold back the smile if he tried. 'I love you, too.'

Q rubbed his face against James' neck, ignoring the wet skin. He felt exhausted, like his entire body had been drained. His head hurt, most of his body did actually. But Q felt so incredibly fucking happy to have James back, safe and sound, still put together both physically and mentally. He already felt safer, like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He was still pissed off, yes, but James was back... everything would be okay, now.

'I still hate you,' Q mumbled as sleep started to tug at him, making him close his eyes and curl his body around James'.

James kissed the top of his head. 'I know,' he said.

'Blanket... next to... floor,' Q stuttered. He turned and pressed his face further against James' skin, inhaling the familiar scent that always made him feel safe and butterflies flutter in his stomach. 'Want... answers,' he added sleepily as he felt James tug the soft blanket over their bodies.

He felt James' lips again against his forehead. 'I know,' the agent repeated.

Q drifted off after James carefully removed his glasses. He was wrapped firmly around James' body, feeling both exhausted and safe at the same time. James was back, that was all that mattered. He'd kill the bastard when he woke up.


{THE END}


Author's Note: No idea. I was reading FrostIron and suddenly wanted to see Q jump and latch onto James and shout at him, followed by hate/relieved sex, so... that's what I wrote. Absolutely no friggin' idea where my muse gets his inspiration; he jumps across fandoms and OTPs for some reason, so... there you go. Hope you enjoyed.

Cheers,

{IBegToDreamAndDiffer}