Pairings : 00Q.
Disclaimer : I own nothing.
Pretty boy :
When James sees Q sit next to him, he doesn't think the guy is actually Q. He can't.
He remembers him. It was in a café, five years ago, give or take. The guy was a tease, with his glasses and his hair and his smug little face. That had not changed, apparently.
He was very young - he still is - and James wanted something normal. And it felt normal, to sit in this café and casually approach this guy, who is alone and charming, and a bit desoriented when you start to hit on him but recovers quickly.
So when Q sits next to him, James thinks about stolen glances and shy smiles and his tigh slowly carressing the other's while the waitress takes their order. He doesn't think about MI-6.
Nothing happened, this day in the café. The guy didn't say his name, or what he did for a living. Neither did James. Shameless flirting, then, especially because pretty girl at the bar couldn't keep her eyes off pretty boy sitting with James. Then an agent casually walked into the café and James knew it was nearly over, and he almost wanted to tell the boy to come back here and wait for him. He was totally out of his mind.
He didn't do it.
Instead, he dreamt of this pretty boy moaning under him, and begging, with his hair all over the place, and the glasses removed, and with this smile of his licked, kissed off his face.
He went back to the café once or twice. And then he dropped it.
James considers the smile, and the glasses, and the hair that seems to have its own will. He remembers perfectly, then, why he never let go of this boy. Butterflies dance the macarena in his stomach and he feels as if he were high. He takes a few seconds to remind himself he is not a lovesick teenager.
But the fact remains : Pretty Boy is one of Bond's few not-yet-classified cases.