"Are you even bearing any of this bloody weight Sherlock?" John barked as he struggled under one end of a huge box that they were attempting to carry up the stairs to Bond's flat.
"Of course I am," snapped the Consulting Detective, "You're just shorter than me so most of the weight presses downwards. Simple physics."
"Always with the short. Maybe you and Q should carry it, you're closer in height and it's his bloody stuff."
They wrestled it through the door with some difficulty and dropped it beside another half dozen similar boxes. Q was sitting on the one closest to the sofa where Bond reclined, arm in a sling, bandaged thigh and battered looking face smirking from beneath a stupid looking hat at the sweaty, cursing men. Q fussed over him, dropping a bottle of water into his lap along with a small tub of assorted pills. "Take them all," he commanded, "even the pink ones. I don't care that they make you feel sick, there's a bucket by the side of the sofa. You need to keep on top of the meds or Medical will haul you in and I won't even pretend to try to stop them. Understood?"
"Yes, darling, anything you say."
Q growled at him but dropped a kiss on his forehead, skipping out of reach of his questing hand.
"No groping until you swallow all that down," Q winked, laughing at Bond's lascivious look. The blond man lounged back against the cushion and groaned obscenely.
"You're killing me Q. It must be time for you to tuck me up in bed…"
"Oh god, please stop! John, make them stop!" Sherlock begged, looking faintly green. "I shouldn't have to put up with my little brother and his partner flirting all over the place. It's hideous and inappropriate and…" John shut him up with a kiss that soon had the other couple raising their eyebrows.
"Spare bedroom's that way gents," joked Bond, laughing out loud when Sherlock flicked him the finger behind John's back. "And flirting is about all I'm allowed right now, so give me some leeway. Is that all of it?" he asked Q, who did a quick tally of the boxes.
"One more to come, then we're done. Excuse me, you two, there's just one more." Sherlock and John parted reluctantly and sighed simultaneously.
"How the hell did you get all of this stuff out of the flat six months ago on your own in less than twenty four hours?" Sherlock grumbled at Q.
"Oh, I employed a company. MI6 approved. Very efficient."
"What?" asked John, succinctly.
"Why the fuck are we breaking our backs to bring it all home?" demanded Sherlock, considerably less so.
"Um…" said Q, "Free dinner, and because you love me?"
Bond roared with laughter at the twin looks of fury on Sherlock and John's faces that deteriorated into a wheezing cough that had Q worriedly checking him over and asking half a dozen times if he was ok.
"I'm fine, love, stop fussing. I'd help you if I could but bomb blasts are a bitch for putting you out of action. Pass me the phone Q – least I can do is order take-away before the drugs have me sliding into incoherency again. Chinese ok for everyone?"
They all agreed and the other couple left to retrieve the final box, leaving Q and Bond alone again for a short while. Bond quickly placed their order and patted the sofa next to him. "Sit for a minute?"
Q smiled fondly, looking around the flat that had ceased to be home for a few months. Bond tugged him against his chest with his good arm, only wincing slightly when the other man's weight rested against his sore ribs. "Welcome home, love."
"It's actually lovely to be back." The younger man looked up at him with bright green eyes. "Sorry it took so long."
"I'm not. You had to be certain." He dropped a kiss on the tip of his nose, a silly little private gesture between them that always made Q frown adorably. "Although, if I'd known dropping a building on my head was a sure fire way of getting you to move back in, I may have tried to blow myself up sooner."
"Idiot. Don't you dare do that again."
"Try my best."
"You're going to be laid up for quite a while this time you know? It's going to drive you insane and I won't be around all the time. M has agreed I can work from home where possible, but there will be times I'm not here and you'll only have Bex for company."
"I'll manage. Stubborn old git remember? The crazy woman has an inexhaustible list of ways to torture me back to fitness so I have every incentive to work hard at it. On days you're here with me I guarantee there won't be much working going on for either of us…" Bond's hand slipped inside Q's shirt, relishing the sensation of his smooth skin beneath his fingertips. Being able to touch him again whenever he desired never lost its shine. Q grinned and kissed him, lips, tongue and teeth all working to show Bond how much he'd missed him, how terrified he'd been of losing him for good, and how joyful it felt to be back home together again.
"I love you James."
"Love you too," he yelped as Q moved a little too enthusiastically against him. "Might have to up the painkillers if you're going to do that though."
"If I up them any more you'll be comatose! No proper sex until I'm satisfied I'm not going to hurt you without resorting to morphine based drugs."
"Spoilsport, you're no fun anymore."
"Really? Who is it risking life and limb to get you off with my hand or mouth when your bodyguard isn't looking? Honestly the woman makes me wilt every time she looks at me! By the time you're fit enough I'll be so traumatised I won't be able to perform."
Bond chuckled and started unzipping Q's jeans. "We have five minutes before the others get back..."
"Five whole minutes? God you spoil me."
The sound of a throat being cleared at the doorway made Bond snatch his hand away abruptly.
"In the lounge Q? Hardly discreet."
"Mycroft! Can't you knock?" Q yelped, flushing two shades darker when he saw his eldest brother wasn't alone. "Oh um... Hello?"
"Hi," grinned the newcomer, tall, silver hair, rumpled suit. Mycroft rolled his eyes and made introductions.
"Gregory, this is my youngest sibling Q and his partner James. Q is less obnoxious than Sherlock and lacks his genius, but is more socially adept. Sadly they compete to see who can be the most immature. Q, this is my friend... Gregory Lestrade."
"Charmed to meet you Gregory Lestrade, please feel free to insult me in my own home in the same manner as my annoying brother. Anyway I'm better looking than Sherlock," he huffed and Mycroft waved to indicate it proved his point. "Aren't I James?"
"Of course you are darling, much better, gorgeous in fact" He kissed him deeply, until Mycroft had to clear his throat again. Bond ignored the interruption until he decided the kiss should end. It left Q adorably breathless and pink cheeked.
"I didn't know you went in for friends Mycroft." Bond teased over Q's head.
"If you could just put my brother down for a moment Bond we were looking for Sherlock."
"I think that cursing on the stairs might be him. He's under John's orders helping Q move back in."
The silver-haired man laughed. "Good to know they sorted their troubles out. Whatever was going on with them made Sherlock even more difficult than usual."
"You know Sherlock?"
"And John too, pretty well. They consult for the Yard on some cases. Exceptional talent, but don't tell him I said that."
"Exceptionally annoying more like," Q muttered, trying to get James to start the kissing again.
"Oh you're that Greg." Bond said, pacifying Q with a quick peck. "John speaks very highly of you. Sherlock says you're 'not an idiot' which is high praise from him."
Greg grinned, not offended at all and obviously amused at the couple who couldn't keep their hands off each other. Almost losing someone would make you very tactile he supposed.
The final box staggered into the room and was dumped less than gently on the pile. John was flushed and out of breath, Sherlock extremely dishevelled, yet it seemed to be lightest box of the lot. "Hard work?" Leered Bond, winking at John.
"Very," he smirked.
"In the van? You're disgusting!" frowned Q.
"So says the man who was about to let me-"
"Shut up James."
Bond chuckled and squeezed him.
"I am surrounded by children!" Mycroft sighed dramatically.
"What are you doing here Lestrade? And in the company of my idiot brother too?"
"We ran into each other outside," Mycroft lied smoothly. "Gregory has a case for you if you're not too busy playing at removals? Why on earth didn't you employ a company Q?" Two pairs of eyes glared at the youngest man in the room who simply smiled sweetly.
"If you're interested Sherlock come and see me at the Yard tomorrow and I'll fill you in."
"Splendid! Now where's that food?"
Sherlock didn't seem to have realised that there was no real reason Lestrade should be with Mycroft or that either of them should be 'just passing' Bond's flat. John would take great pleasure in telling him much later that evening and enjoying the resulting tantrum but for the time being he saw the politician and the policeman to the door.
"You have some explaining to do Gregory," he smirked, "and I want the gory details so I can torment Sherlock."
"You are a bad man Doctor Watson." Greg walked away shaking his head.
The food arrived at the same time as Bex. She and John shared it out, handing out plates, drinks, chopsticks or forks, depending on relative skill, and they chatted while they ate.
At one point Sherlock disappeared with a sly wink at John. A minute or two later John also left the room, dumping his plate in the kitchen and making a detour into the spare bedroom. It was tiny and crammed to the ceiling with all of Q's computer equipment but it would serve the purpose. Sherlock closed the door and backed John up against it, hands sliding around his waist. John's twined around Sherlock's neck tugging him down so their mouths could meet and they kissed for long moments.
Sherlock smoothly dropped to one knee in front of his boyfriend taking John's right hand and thoughtfully tracing a long fingertip across his own engagement band that still rested there. "John... Would you do me the very great honour of agreeing to be my husband? I don't think I can wait any longer for you to ask me."
John grinned down at him. "That wasn't actually what I was expecting when you got down on your knees but hell yes!" He all but ripped the ring from his finger and shakily held it out. Sherlock had to help guide it onto his finger because John was trembling so much.
"Better than you expected?" Sherlock asked cheekily.
"God yes, far more satisfying and hopefully lasts longer" he laughed.
Sherlock stood and kissed him again until they were both breathless and someone hammered on the door. They returned to the living room a few minutes later with broad smiles, hand in hand.
"I hope you're all free on November the fifteenth?" Sherlock said to the room. "John and I have decided it would be an excellent date to marry."
There was a flurry of 'congratulations' and an 'about time' from Q who jumped up and hugged his brother tightly. Sherlock accepted it with a broad smile. It wasn't every day he could make the men he loved so happy.
Bex was once again the one to shoo the non-residents out when James started yawning. She took a joking step towards Q, threatening to kick him out too, but Bond wrapped his arms possessively around the younger man.
"Hands off my man Bex, he's going nowhere ever again other than my bed."
"Mm, doing it in a proper bed. No more sneaking around? How terribly grown up James."
Bex snorted in a particularly unladylike manner. "Grown up? You two? Believe it when I see it. I'm off for a shower. Get him on his feet Q and into the kitchen to make tea for us all. I bet he's been sat on his bum all day making you run around after him instead of exercising that leg. He's not nearly as helpless as he'd have you believe."
"Oh I am," Bond said pathetically, "I need someone to take care of me." He winked at Q, sliding his fingers down his arm sensuously.
Bex was looming over them in an instant, arms folded and looking severe. "Unless you would like me to lock Q in my room tonight, get up and start hobbling."
Q looked horrified at the thought. "Come on, you can lean on me. You have to walk to the bedroom anyway."
"Ok, I've got something for you in the kitchen. When I was stuck in that corridor I was devastated to think I may not be able to give it to you in person. There's a box on the table."
Q retrieved the shoe box that had been haphazardly tied with a scruffy piece of purple ribbon that had seen better days. The box had a bit of weight to it. "I asked Sherlock to gift wrap it, so… Sorry about that." Q looked at him quizzically. "Well go on then, open it…"
He tugged the ribbon free and dropped it on the floor, lifted the lid and grinned. "Bloody hell 007, is that what I think it is?"
"Yep. Every piece of tech you issued to me for the last mission, all present and correct, and all in fully working order, apart from my mobile naturally. I hold you responsible for its destruction. Miracles happen."
"They certainly bloody do. Well done Bond. I'll see you suitably rewarded for this. It's almost worth risking sex."
"That would be lovely." Bond's blue eyes lit up at the thought.
"Tea!" yelled Bex on her way to the shower.
"We might have to drug her first... I love being back home with you."