Disclaimer: I don't own "James Bond" or any of the 007 characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: I wanted to do a little OOQ wing fic and got carried away. Inspired by the following prompt: "Humans can not fix the problem because humans are the problem."
Warnings: angel!Q, mild language, canon appropriate violence, drama, angst, romance, pining, wing fic, religious themes and references, angels and demons, blood and injury, soulmate elements.
Suspire
Chapter Eight
"The demon- what was it doing here?" he asked, deciding to see how far he could push his luck as Q cautiously extended his injured wing. Making sure it was firmly back in the joint.
It was similar to a falcon's wingspan when he'd mapped out the lay of the bones. Only on a much larger scale. The power in the muscles underneath was undeniable. Sculpted, but slight enough to look completely natural. Admittedly, he was caught on it. Unable to help himself as he fingered the longest feathers. Breathing in the smell of ozone and pine.
He wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed Q's back before. When his wings were free Q looked nothing like the knobby-knee colt he'd taken him for. It didn't make sense. Which seemed to be a theme so far. Was it the oversized jumpers that'd masked the definition? The boy did like his layers. In fact, he'd never seen him without them. Or like with his wings, had it simply been hidden this entire time? Either way, he doubted he'd be able to have a normal thought about it for the rest of bloody time.
Q snorted. The sound was indelicate and nothing like him. Jarring enough to pull a smile out of him as the boy's wings arched up in an easy, comfortable stretch.
He hesitated. No, not a boy.
Privately, he wondered at how well he was adjusting.
Angels. Demons. Heaven. Hell. God.
He'd be lying if he said it wasn't hard to swallow.
But he accepted it.
What was more, he believed it.
It was a reflection of his training, he supposed.
He was good at adapting. It was how you stayed alive.
Besides, it was hard to ignore what he'd been able to confirm with his senses. The demon's red eyes. The haze of fumes, the stink of blood and sulphur. The sound of distant screams, thousand of voices all howling at once. And of course-
He anchored his fingers in Q's feathers. Daring to do it almost roughly, just to prove the point.
A muscle in his cheek twitched when Q let go of an audible groan and leaned into his touch.
It wasn't a groan of pain.
Christ.
He didn't stop.
He should have, but he didn't.
Not when Q was responding like this.
Like he hadn't been touched in-
The thought curdled, aware it might be truer than he realized.
"Wrecking havoc, I would expect," Q muttered, when he'd recovered. Voice decidedly rougher than it had been a moment ago. Feathers puffing like a tell before smoothing again.
He bit down on a grin, unable to help himself as Q continued. Prattling on. Reminding him of hours in the lab, just like this. Well, almost like this.
"I'll have to look into his involvement with the Ambassador. It could be something simple, but knowing that lot there's likely something else going on. Something we can't see."
He shook his head, realizing that the excuse of his training was just that- an excuse.
It was Q.
The reason he was coping with all this was because he knew Q wasn't lying.
And if Q trusted him enough to tell him-
"You came for me," he said suddenly. Realizing that Q had been watching the feeds. He must have seen something M and the others hadn't.
Q let go of a stuttered half-laugh. Wings rustling with a soothing sound.
"Of course."
He'd said the words like they were easy.
Natural.
A given.
He shivered.
The silence that stretched after was harder.
His heart was an anthem in his chest. So tight with excitement, or maybe just anxiety, that he couldn't help but clench his palm to his breast.
What was that?
It wasn't a heart attack.
He knew what one of those felt like.
This was something else.
His fingers curled deeper into Q's feathers, but the same echoing pulse thundered through his fingers instead. Like any minute he was going to start shooting electricity the same as Q's eyes. Powerful, eldritch and blue.
It wasn't a bad sort of feeling.
In fact, it felt a lot like a puzzle piece slotting into place.
He didn't know how he felt about it, but he wasn't running.
Not this time.
His eyes stung. Feeling vulnerable and far too open as something just beyond him – beyond them - threatened to cusp like white-water.
"How involved are they in human affairs?" he asked quietly.
He'd always been fond of Q. But this? This was different.
"Deeply," Q replied, frowning. "You could say they have a vested interest."
But the dark expression was gone almost as quickly as it arrived. Because in the same breath, Q colored and looked away. Making him wonder what his expression had been like. Any other time he would have been uncomfortable with such a loaded question. But not today. Instead, he watched the blush spread with interest. Highlighting the moles and freckles that dotted Q's skin. Amused at how human it seemed, given how quickly the skin gave way to feathers.
His grin was wide and secret as Q's wings puffed in knowing affront.
At least the awkwardness was the same.
He wouldn't have been able to bear it otherwise.
"I know what you're thinking," Q said sharply, tone suddenly accusatory.
It was only by the grace of his training that he didn't freeze. Mind automatically back to the tightness in his chest. To the strange thread of something – something that could be good – tying him firmly to Q like an anchor at sea.
Q wings prickled, agitated. But neither of them pulled away.
"You aren't to get involved, Bond. I mean it. It's better if you forget all this. If I hadn't been there, you wouldn't have stood a chance. No one would have. Demons are relentless and now he knows your scent. Promise me you'll drop it?"
The muscles in his calves unclenched, relieved and disappointed.
It was maddening.
He ignored the warning and instead focused on where his fingers were buried in Q's plumage. Marveling at the strength he found there as each rake pulled a series of delightful sounds from Q's throat. Digging his fingers into the groove where wing met shoulder again and again until Q nearly melted off the chair. He smirked. Unable and unwilling to help it as a rumbling chuckle bubbled up from his chest. Making it all too easy to get even closer as that same feeling hummed through him like a grounding line.
"Bit late not to get involved, Q. Don't you think?"
A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. There will be more to come.