What happened that night wasn't explained. It just happened and they accepted that. Until James started talking.
Because, you know, hes the outgoing one.
"Q, I really like you. Did you know that?"
"May have had an idea." said Q as his cheeks turned red. How does one have a conversation like this and make it casual? Q had just woken up and James was in the kitchen eating some crappy oatmeal. They didn't do anything last night. They had just fallen asleep on the couch, Q leaning on James's shoulder. It was. . . comfortable, and Q felt safe there.
There was an awkward silence and Q saw the corner of James's mouth turn up. Q gave a smirk of his own and said, "Well; maybe i like you too."
James tried to walk closer and look Q in the eyes who looked down in embarrassment.
"Maybe? I was hoping for a yes or no there." retorted Bond. "I just want to say that I've honestly loved you since our first mission together."
This came as partly a shock to Q, who has never really had a successful relationship ever. It also came as a relief to think that someone appreciated him, or at least thought they did. Q peeked at the gorgeous agent above his glasses and said, "Me too."
Now Q has always been timid when it came to romance, but sometimes he worried that his high level of shyness would make the other person think he is rejecting them. By no means did he want that with Bond. No matter how Q showed it he was in love with the man. He had realized it for a while. That crooked smile, the brightest blue eyes Q had ever seen, (and damn that nicely sculpted body of his) and there was just something else about the double-oh made him go weak in the knees
"Really? Because if I'm being too forward. . I'm sorry." said James.
"No, really. I love you." said Q finally. His hands were clasped behind his back and he looked at the carpet. Bond came forward to hug him. His big hands, in comparison to Q's, lifted the genius's chin and kissed him again. Still gently, the way Q liked it at the moment. Later that day, Q officially asked Bond to be his boyfriend. It was one of the most scary things Q had ever had to do in his life, since he he didn't know how bond would react. Was Q just another person James was taking advantage of; for sex? And was Bond really boyfriend material? These questions still weren't answered when he blurted it out out at the dinner table that night.
James just grabbed his hand from across the table, looked into Q's eyes and nodded.
Two weeks later and James was basically living with Q. They had gotten to know each other pretty well. Q now knew that James Bond snores (quite loudly in fact), he never puts his toothbrush back in the same place twice, and he sings strange old songs in the shower; he makes awful tea and forces Q to watch old Doctor Who reruns, laughing too hard at the funny parts. He spends his precious down time on weird things like doing endless sit-ups, when he already trains four to five times a week, but insists on eating all the left overs when they order take-out. He's kind of a dork; when you take away the suits, the big fat ego, and the way he can take a mans life with a swing of his fist. Q was in love.
There was one thing though. . . James still called him by his code name.
"Hey Q." cooed James as they sat cuddled together on the couch. Q had his laptop in his lap while the agent watched him program a new mail system for MI6.
"Yeah" asked Q."
"Would you mind telling me your real name? I feel like I'm special enough to at least know my boyfriends name for gods sake."
Q hesitated and his face went red.
"I cant just call you 'Q' forever." said James as he kissed the quartermasters hair.
" You know there's a reason why I never tell anyone my real name."
"Well, fine, I can still call you Q or whatever I just need to know it!" pleaded Bond.
"Oliver." he whispered with his hands over his face.
"What?"
"Oliver. Oliver Holmes." he said shamefully. "Call me what you like at home but never say Oliver in front of anyone else."
"James laughed, "Okay, Okay! . . . Oliver."
"It's stupid, I know."
"No! It suits you."
Q shyly looked up at James. They smiled in unison and then started kissing. Passionately It was assuring. Trust. Something Oliver needed at the moment.
They had a week off, courtesy of MI6. Deciding what to do in the night was not hard, but finding things to to together (as a couple now!) during the day was a puzzle. All James does when hes bored is work out, and all Q does is hack, and program.
Oliver read the paper on a Tuesday morning and announced, "What if we ran a half marathon?"
James looked up from his toast. A confused and worried look flooded his face. Q stared for a moment before going on, "There's one downtown next Saturday. It would be something to do."
"You? A half marathon? I've never seen you run more than fifty meters."
Q dazed into James's eyes. "I'm capable of doing more than you know."
"Ok then, if you think you can do it, let's do it. I need to start running again anyway. Of course you'll have to train-"
"Oh, i'll train. Seperately though." sassed Q.
"Oh ok, so you're making it a contest now eh?"
Q leaned forward and made sure he said it in the other mans face. "Yes." he couldn't hold in a smile.
James leaned in as well and put that stupid smirk on his face that melted Q every time.
"You'll be ready at the starting line at 8:00 next Saturday?"
"Readier than you."
"Your'e going down" said James right before he planted a playful kiss on Olivers lips.
That morning they woke up at 7:00. No fooling around in bed or anything. Like it was buisness, they got up and got dressed for their 13.1 mile run.
James smirked in the mirror, I've been trained for this my whole life, I am capable of running 13 miles. It was going to be fun, he thought.
"I'll cut you a little slack." he yelled from the bathroom.
Oliver was getting ready in the bedroom. He replied, "No need to old man. I'm prepared."
"Just don't come crying to me when you hit the wall."
"James!" he scolded.
Q walked out of the bedroom and inspected 007. He was wearing a long sleeve shirt with the MI6 logo on it, and sweatpants. This was actually very sexy, given a break from the suit and tie that he usually wore. Q wore his running flats, short shorts (which were quite embarrassing to be honest, but that's what runners wear and they were most efficient) and a pullover sweat jacket. Q noticed James eyeing him as they both awkwardly walked out the door together and got a cab.
Q noticed James's hands fidgeting on the way over.
"Bond, are you nervous?" asked Q.
"I haven't run this far in a long time." He said quietly as he stared out the window.
Oliver grabbed James's hand. He didn't know what to tell the double-oh, since James never is like this. The heavy breathing, sweaty palms and puppy eyed face of the toughest agent in England became suddenly attractive to Q. Q squeezed James's hand tightly as the cab halted for them to get out.
The giant park was filled with every kind of person, from Olympic runner to couch potato. They stood in the crowd of people at the starting line. The stress was overwhelming and Q felt like he was in a death hole that there was no way of getting out. The race started too fast. The gun went off like a firecracker and once the large crowd started moving, he began to relax. There had no time to become nervous. But still, it was 13.1 miles for gods sake! Q thought he would never make it. It would take him all day. Bond would finish hours before him and laugh at his pathetic-ness forever.
No, he was over thinking it. James and Oliver huffed their way through the first mile, staying together most of the way. James looked focused, determined and confident. Q, on the other hand, probably looked the opposite.
Time went by as Q stuck to the thoughts in his head; and the running became. . .fun. He liked being able to feel the muscle in his legs and the smooth breath of every stride. Luckily it was not windy that day. Running into the wind is shit.
Q looked to his side to find a thin scrawny tall man running beside him, not 007. Where is James? Thought Q. Has he passed me? Have i passed him? Where is everyone? What time is it?
Q kept running and turned to the man beside him.
"Sir, would you happen to know . . . how much farther we've got?"
The man glanced at his watch and without looking away from the road, and replied, "About three more miles. . .left."
"Thanks" he breathed back.
Q was too shocked to ask about their time. There were no more normal looking people around him. Now they were all fit, lean and fast. Q liked to think that he was too.
Oliver Holmes crossed the finish line with a 1:25. Wait, that cannot be right. He thought. As he scanned the park, there was not sign of Bond. Still heaving, he took a bottle of water from the table of free refreshments, and sat in the grass to do some stretches.
More and more people crossed the line, and about 25 minutes after Q had reduced his breathing to a normal state, James Bond, with a time of 2:05 came, came running in. He looked pretty winded, and Q ran over to him and helped him over to his spot in the grass. There were beads of sweat trickling down Bonds forehead and Q put his arm around the agent and handed him water.
A smirk came over Bonds face, "Well, that was not fair."
Oliver gave a calm smile, "How do you mean?"
"You're the Quartermaster, and I'm supposed to be the athletic one." He laughed. But Q could tell it really got to him. Losing. James Bonds greatest fear.
"How did you do it?" asked James.
"Well, I trained hard. . .and I guess its old habits. I was pretty fond of cross country in school."
"Oh yeah? What was your time?"
"one twenty-five." said the Quartermaster. He felt bad and didn't want to make Bond feel old or something.
"Holy fuck. That is good." admitted the crushed agent. Q felt terrible, but also amazing. He hadn't run a race like that in years. The great feeling rushed back to him, and he felt infinite. And the fact that he was here with (lets face it) the love of his life, made it even better.
"You did amazing though too." said Q.
"Yeah, whatever. All I know is that you look delicious in those clothes."
There was the James Bond that Q knew so well.
It had started to rain when they got back to the flat. Once the door closed behind them, Bond held Q's hand softly and began to kiss him.
Not to be cheesy or anything, but this moment could have lasted forever. The feel of Bonds large protecting figure around him was amazing. Q pulled back and ran his hands through James's still wet, but beautiful short hair. His eyes were stunning. And they were looking straight into Q's less blue ones.
"Ever since I saw you in these ridiculous shorts, I knew. . ." James started.
"Knew what?" Q was too dazed to care what he was going to say. The handsomeness was overwhelming.
"We are going to the bedroom." stated Bond, as he literally and metaphorically swept Q off his feet and carried him to the bed.