Disclaimer: I do not own the Bond movies or books.
Warnings: This is still T rated, and Bond is still dressed. Except the shirt. That will live on the floor from now on.
Q looked down on Bond, running a hand down his jaw, and not able to resist any longer proceeded to start an almost violent kiss, intent on kissing the other man senseless. Bond was taken aback at first at the sudden advance, but not adverse to it. So he merely curled a hand into Q's long, curly hair and let himself be kissed. Bond easily returned the passion but did not try and battle for dominance, allowing for the smaller man to lead the kiss.
Utterly breathless, Q broke off the kiss several minutes later, and rested his head on James' chest without opening his eyes. He could easily hear from there that the older man was not at all as breathless as he was himself. Perhaps because of sheer habit, or maybe just because he was so very fit, Q speculated. He ran a hand down Bond's chest, finding his muscles relaxed, and the man himself pliant underneath him. Just through with his laps in the pool, then. A hand running across his hair confirmed it was still wet. He had showered, dressed and then come looking for him? Q was touched; it was nice of him to care.
It was even nicer that he had James in bed with him. Before even meeting the man in person, he had realised that there were three almost separate sides to him; protectiveness practically the only thing they had in common.
There was 007; purposeful, silent, unreadable and leathal at the slightest provocation. Or order. Then there was Bond; and if the man wasn't the greatest cameleont Q had ever met. Capable of being dangerous, exciting or seductive at will, turning the tables and shifting focus and personality within the blink of an eye. The persona's smoothness was so well rehearsed it did not even feel mechanic, though Q knew that it was there. He was the master coder, after all. He could spot a program when he was looking right at it.
Then suddenly in all that practised ease, all that discerning purpose, there would be a kind smile shining through, and that was James. Q hadn't more than glimpsed 007 since that first day. Obviously, the man had decided he posed little threat, and physically that was certainly true, leaving him to be accompanied by Bond. The charming seducer extraordinare.
Q preferred James though. That side was, though as unthreatened and laid back as Bond, much more alive, and very rare. Where Bond always handed you just the line you wanted to hear, 007 didn't say anything, except maybe something very to the point in responce to a direct question. James however liked to tease, and his eyes lit in a special way when you got through to him, making him enjoy your joke. Somewhere in that lengthy, internal disertation, happening at the speed of light in Q's binary brain, his thoughts went blank.
James found himself amused. Q had suddenly kissed him with bruising force, then simply put his head down on him and fallen asleep again within a minute. He could have lifted him back down on the mattress and made his escape, of course, but he hadn't slept during the day. Instead he had dedicated himself to an extra session in the gym, and the prospect of a nap in bed with his attractive host for an hour or two was not without its appeal.
Before allowing himself to drift off, James listened to the heartbeat and breathing of Q to even out in sleep. This was far from the first time he found himself in bed with someone he didn't actually know the name of, but somehow spending so much time with the man made that more strange, instead of less.
He found the inaction of these last few weeks easier to bear than usual, as well, perhaps because of the surroudings and the company, or perhaps the resounding fatigue going through his body after an assignment as difficult as the last one. He had little doubt that when he was needed again, that phone he carefully made sure he kept charged would alert him to the situation immediately.