The meeting in the gallery wasn't the first time they had met. It had occurred almost a year ago now, but Bond wouldn't have forgotten that mass of curly hair or keen eyes looking at him through thick, rather ridiculous glasses.
Of course, when the younger man had sat down beside him, Bond had no idea he would turn out to be his quartermaster. He'd dreaded this day, the day when a one night stand came back to haunt him. He'd assumed then when Q had sat that the thin creature wanted money, or another round. Bond was in the mood for neither, trying to dismiss Q with the inane observation that the ship was in fact big. And was then dragged back to the bench by one little word.
But it would not have surprised Bond to find Q in an art museum anyway. After all, it was in another more cultured venue that they'd met. One night stands in London had the bad reputation of always taking place in bars and clubs and hotels, the result of copious amounts of alcohol and desire. James Bond did not pick up bed partners in clubs or bars. He had high taste in drinks, cars, everything else. So of course, he had to pick someone up in a place just as classy.
He honestly hadn't gone to a symphony to have sex with a man ten years his junior. He had been on an assignment, trailing a weapons dealer, when he'd met Q. Bond had been meant to have a private box, but by some enormous oversight, Bond found one of the seats already taken by a scrawny thing in a tux. Bond had scowled and grimaced and considered kicking the man out, but decided that there was no need. He could be subtle and keep an eye on his target.
That plan had gone to hell when not fifteen minutes later there was a head of curls in between his legs. And then a slender body in his lap, sinking up and down as the music swelled and then softened. The younger man had been delicious, hot and responsive, biting into Bond's shoulder to stifle the noises escaping his mouth. It had overwhelmed Bond's senses, the music, the heat, the sweet smell of Q. He had wanted to take Q back to his apartment, wanted to ravish him and perhaps feed him as well. Unfortunately, he did still have a job, and he was forced to leave Q sweaty and utterly wrecked in the box.
As such, he enjoyed watching Q's face turn a spectacular pink when after coming back from a mission he asked the Quartermaster to go to the symphony with him.