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Thursday Nights

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Q wasn't sure when his office became the 'hangout' of the few MI-6 employees he'd consider friends; he didn't mind, but it would have been nice to have been informed. He'd realised it when he was in his cupboards looking for a piece of tech he'd misplaced and found a collection of board games. Opening another cupboard he discovered a large collection of alcohol; scotch and vodka for Bond, red wine for Tanner, and Irish Cream for himself and Eve. Their presence even extended over to the fridge; his regular whole-milk had been switched out for low-fat milk because Tanner was in a perpetual state of kind-of-dieting. There was a stack of chocolate bars for when Eve was feeling particularly weepy and needed a pick-me-up. There were even Pot Noodles stacked by the kettle, which Q knew for a fact he hadn't bought since he was a student.

 He looked over to his desk, and where there had once been two flimsy plastic chairs, were two comfortable leather chairs, and another against the wall by the coffee table. There were scuff marks on the floor from where they'd been dragged into positions better for socialising.

 He wondered if M knew government funds were being used to turn his office into a den, and how long it'd be until a pool table appeared in the corner.

 Bond chose that moment to stroll into Q's office, smirking at the look of bewilderment on the quartermaster's face. "Okay, Q?"

 "When did my office become a den?"

 Bond paused, hand hovering over the on-button of the coffee machine Q didn't recall buying. "I have no idea... We've just always gathered here... Why, have you only just noticed?"

 "I was looking for tech and found Monopoly. And I don't even eat Pot Noodles!"

 Bond chuckled, flicking the switch of the kettle; it was obvious Q needed some tea to calm him down. "It's not a bad thing, Q. Just see it as proof you have friends."

 "But why my office?!" Q whined, marching over to Bond, taking over tea-making-duty. Bond shrugged, grabbing his mug from the overhead cupboard. His mug, with a Banksy picture on the side. Eve and Tanner had their own mugs too.

 "Tanner and Moneypenny's offices are too close to Mallory's, and he'd just spoil our fun."

 "But... don't you guys have homes to go to?"

 Bond shrugged again, taking his coffee over to Q's desk. "Not really. Eve's single, you're single, I'm single, Tanner's divorced... No pets, no responsibilities... We all have lonely lives, hence this."

 Q sighed, dropping his used tea-bag into the bin, snatching the milk from the fridge. "It's not that I mind, really..."

 "So what's the problem?"

 "I just didn't think this would be my life."

 "What did you think it would be? Before we came along you spent all your time here anyway, but working. Now you're... having a couple of drinks with your mates instead of hacking some poor company."

 Q shrugged, sitting himself in the chair beside Bond, blowing gently across the top of his mug before taking a sip of his tea. Bond smiled.

 "I think I overheard Tanner talking about getting a hot-tub installed."

 Q let out a loud snort, spilling tea on his trousers as he jerked. Bond laughed as Q began cursing, hurrying back over to the corner to grab a towel.

 "I hate you."

 Bond smirked, raising his coffee to his lips. "You're welcome."

 Q sighed loudly, rubbing his trousers dry, rolling his eyes as he heard Bond chuckling to himself. "Is there nothing for you to be doing?"

 "Nope, I'm on stand-by."

 "No one to report to? Benches to press? Women to sleep with?"

 "Nope. I'm free to spend time with you."

 "Lucky me," Q muttered, walking back to his desk, wiping the spilt tea from his desk and mug, collapsing down in his chair. He and Bond sat in a comfortable silence, Bond's foot occasionally bumping against Q's for something to do. Q never rose to the bait, just moving his foot further away until it was completely out of the agent's reach.

 The door swinging open disturbed their silence, Eve marching straight over to the fridge. "I am having a bad day!"

 Bond and Q watched as she pulled out some chocolate and poured herself some coffee into her Tigger mug, muttering under her breath. Bond stood up, turning his chair around before going to grab Q's from round his desk. Eve sat herself down in Bond's previous seat, kicking her shoes off.

 "What's wrong?"

 Eve huffed out an annoyed sigh, breaking off a square of chocolate. "My computer started going on the blink, and so I got someone in, and the creep spent half his time flirting with me! After saying no about twenty times I thought he'd get the message. Little did I know he was just biding his time until he manhandled me in the break room! And then some girl starts giving me lip about keeping my legs closed for once! I could have killed someone!"

 Bond smiled meekly, giving her arm a soft squeeze. "Would you like me to do it? I'm good at actually killing people."

 Eve rolled her eyes, sending Bond a quick smirk. "Usually when you shoot someone, they have the decency to stay dead and not turn up months later."

 "Why didn't you call me?" Q asked, interrupting the banter he'd heard a thousand times before. Eve shrugged.

 "What's maintenance for if I'm just going to call you? Plus I'm sure you'd give me some smart-arse remark about not being my personal engineer."

 Q smirked. "That's probable."

 "And I didn't want to disturb you in case you were busy."

 "I wasn't."

 "I didn't want to disturb your coffee date with Bond."

 Q frowned. "We're not-"

 "Best to just crash it completely," Bond laughed. Eve smiled.

 "Sorry, like I said, bad day."

 "No harm done."

 "This wasn't a date!" Q protested. Eve just quirked an eyebrow at him, reaching for her coffee; Bond refused to make eye-contact. "It wasn't!"

 Eve nodded slowly, deciding to change the subject instead of argue.

 

 –

Thursday nights were when the four of them gathered in Q's office, unless Bond was on a mission. Tanner would run out and get some takeaway, Bond would restock the alcohol if it was running low, and Eve would decide on the night's entertainment. The minions knew not to disturb Q unless it was completely urgent; he didn't want to leave Tanner, Eve, and Bond unsupervised in his office under the influence.

 Q was finishing up some of the day's work whilst Eve shifted the chairs around his desk, shifting things out of the way and grabbing four plates. Q had stopped freaking out about all the homely touches that had appeared during his time as quartermaster, although he had figured out most of it was Tanner's doing.

 "So how was dinner?" Eve asked, placing the cutlery in the middle of the desk. Q shrugged.

 "Edible."

 "I meant, James surprised you with lunch, didn't he?"

 "Oh. Yes."

 "He said he was worried you were getting a bit thin."

 "He's trying to fatten me up?"

 Eve smirked. "An impossible task if I ever heard one. No, he was just... being nice."

 "Unusual for him, perhaps we should call a professional?"

 "Q!"

 Q rolled his eyes. "In all your time of working with him, have you ever known James Bond to be nice?"

 "Well... usually he has some kind of ulterior motive..."

 "Exactly."

 "Not with you, though!"

 Q shrugged, focusing back on his work. Eve sighed and finished getting the desk ready for dinner. Bond arrived just as Q was shutting his computer down, carrying a bag of alcohol.

 "Tanner shall be along shortly," he said, walking over to the cupboard to deposit the new bottles, taking out the drinks for the evening. "Wine for dinner, then whatever you like after."

 "Did he make sure there's enough rice to go round, this time?" Eve smirked, sitting herself opposite Q.

 "I assume so. Otherwise he'll be the one missing out."

 Q wandered over to the sink in the corner, washing his hands, his mind wandering to things he'd been working on earlier. He jumped when he felt a hand curl around his waist.

 "Eve said you're questioning my motives for being nice to you."

 Q shuddered, feeling Bond’s breath on the back of his neck. “It’s just unlike you to be nice for no reason.”

 Bond tutted, bumping his hip against Q’s. “Q, that hurts.”

 “But I’m not wrong... I consider you my friend, James, I really do. But you’re a right bastard, most of the time.”

 “Well maybe I’m trying to rectify your opinion of me.”

 “Why?”

 “Maybe... I don’t want you thinking I’m a right bastard.”

 Bond gave Q a gentle squeeze before slinking back over to the desk; Q stood staring at his hands as water sloshed over them, confused but not entirely sure why.

 “Q, you’ve been washing your hands for about five minutes, I think they’re clean.”

 Q’s head whipped around to see Eve grinning at him from her seat. He nodded, shutting off the tap and drying his hands as he wandered back over to the desk. Bond had taken the seat beside his, lounging back regally, his legs splayed wide open. Q averted his eyes, swallowing down a dry gulp as he gingerly sat himself down. Eve poured four glasses of wine, making idle chit-chat with Bond until Tanner burst in, two bags of Indian food under his arms.

 "Took your time, we're wasting away, here," Eve laughed, moving things around the desk to make space for the bags.

 "Sorry, Mallory appeared, had to go the long way to avoid him. Food's still hot, though."

 "Rice?"

 "We'll have more than enough this time, so quit your bitching."

 Bond smirked, helping Eve distribute the food; korma for Q because he couldn't handle anything remotely spicy, madras for Eve, and some concoction of chilli and various meats for Tanner and Bond to out-do each other which never ended well.

 "Don't hog all the naan this time," Tanner smirked, piling some rice onto his plate. Eve grinned and winked as she piled her food onto her plate.

 The four of them ate and discussed work and themselves like usual; enjoying the company of their fellow employees. Eve and Q giggled to themselves when Tanner bit into a particularly hot chilli, whimpering as he ran over to the fridge for the milk. When Q looked up from his plate, he caught Bond's eye; the agent shooting him a quick smile and softly knocking their knees together. Q felt a faint blush creep up his cheeks, quickly looking back down at his plate.

 After their meal, Q and Eve cleaned the dishes and tidied whilst Tanner and Bond rearranged the chairs around the coffee table, jokingly sniping at each others ability to handle spice.

 Q found himself sitting beside Bond again, the chairs pulled a little closer than at the desk, and slightly turned towards each other. Eve sat shuffling the deck of Uno cards before dealing them out, warning everyone to keep calm, even if they are made to pick up four.

 "I'd rather not explain to Mallory my office was destroyed over a game of Uno, thank you," Q sighed, sorting his hand of cards.

 "Just keep those plus-fours away from me and you won't have to," Tanner grinned, throwing down a red seven.

 "Does Mallory know? That we do this?"

 Eve shrugged. "No clue. If he knows he doesn't let on."

 "Of course he doesn't, or else he'd be suspending us all pronto," Bond said, finally throwing down a green seven. Q responded with a green three.

 "I get the feeling you'd be in the most trouble?"

 "Obviously. Eve's his good little girl-"

 "I resent that, James."

 "Tanner's his mule-"

 "So horribly true," Tanner sighed, dropping a change-direction onto the pile.

 "And you're... well, Q... Which leaves me."

 "The pain in the arse field agent," Eve grinned. Q frowned, throwing down a blue plus-two.

 "What's that supposed to mean, my being Q?"

 Bond shrugged, throwing down a plus-two of his own. "He wouldn't tell you off. He'd be too afraid of hurting your feelings."

 "I'm not a six year old girl! I can handle being disciplined!"

 "But you're so delicate," Bond grinned, leaning forward in his chair.

 "Not six," Q huffed. "Not a girl."

 Bond chuckled, quirking an eyebrow at the quartermaster. Q cleared his throat, looking up at Eve to save him from the conversation.

 "Pick up eight, Q."

 Q looked down; two more plus-two cards had been piled on top of Q's and Bond's. He let out a quiet hum, throwing a plus-four onto the pile. "Green."

 Bond groaned, reaching for the desk. "You're a real piece of work, Q."

 Tanner laughed, continuing the game. "You think you know who your friends are. Then they play a plus-four."

 "I expect this dirty play from Mallory."

 "Go play with him then," Q said, reaching for his drink.

 "No... I'd much rather play with you."

 Eve snorted quietly, fiddling with her cards. "I bet you would."

 Q rolled his eyes, rearranging his hand whilst they waited for Bond to have his own hand in order. After a few moments of tense silence, Tanner found something to talk about. They played and drank and bickered over rules good naturedly, coming up with creative insults for one another.

 It eventually got late; Eve and Tanner quickly and quietly slipped out of Q's office, leaving a near-drunk Q and tipsy Bond to tidy up.

 "Do you need me to walk you home?"

 Q shook his head, collapsing down into his chair once he'd gotten it back behind his desk. "I'm a grown man."

 "You also can't walk in a straight line. I'd rather you not get killed."

 "I find your lack of faith in my ability to look after myself deeply upsetting."

 "I just worry about you."

 "Why?"

 Bond frowned. "Why what?"

 "Why do you worry?"

 "Because... I don't want you to get hurt... I care about you."

 Q let out what was supposed to be a hum but came out as a whine. "You're not supposed to care."

 "I know. But I do... Okay?"

 "I try not to care about you. I mean, you're such an idiot! Always blowing things up and jumping in front of bullets... diving off the top of buildings... But every time you go off the grid or transmission cuts... I freak out."

 Bond smiled, walking around to sit on the edge of Q's desk. "Caring's not necessarily a bad thing."

 "No, it's a terrible thing! One day you'll be M-I-A and I'll be freaking out and I'll make some God awful cock-up. I could kill someone. I could kill you!"

 Bond smiled sadly, reaching forward to take Q's hand in his. "I won't let you. I won't go off the grid without telling you first, okay? I'll check in with you as much as possible."

 "It's simpler to not care. I just... need to figure out how to not care... How do you do it?"

 "...I don't, Q. I care. A lot. About a lot of people."

 Q sighed, dropping his head against the back of his chair. "It's going to kill me, one day."

 Bond sighed, gently easing Q from his chair. "Come on, you're getting depressing, so I'm getting you home."

 Q let out another whine and leant bodily against the agent, letting himself be led out of his office.

 

 –

Q grunted an unenthusiastic greeting at Eve when he heard her enter his office. She hummed, dropping a file onto his desk.

 "Hungover?"

 "Why did I let Bond ply me with vodka?"

 "Because you'd do anything for him. Even get drunk off your tits."

 "What?"

 "Nevermind. Schematics for the new watch you asked for."

 Q groaned, pulling himself from his chair and over to the sink, getting himself a glass of water. "I made a right proper idiot of myself last night."

 "How?"

 "After you left... I told Bond I cared for him. Just... kill me now, please? And then he dragged me home whilst I whittled on about... something compromising. I don't know. I'm sure he'll tell you all about it... Could you hit the lights on your way out, I'm thinking about taking a nap of shame under my desk."

 Eve smiled, curling an arm around his shoulders reassuringly. "It'll be fine, Q. Bond has a soft spot for you, he won't mock you."

 "Really? I'd mock me! I already have! Part of my headache is due to the fact I hit it repeatedly against the wall this morning."

 "Well there's nothing I can do... Though I'd warn you to keep away from Mallory, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

 "I may go seek him out, let him tell me off for being a right tit."

 Eve chuckled, giving Q a pat on the shoulder. "Whatever you decide to do, I hid some paperwork in those schematics, it you could get it signed and back to me by lunch, that'd be great."

 "I hate everything."

 "I know you do, sweetie."

 Q let his head thunk back down against the desk-top as Eve left; he hoped he'd get a quiet day, no emergencies, no explosions, no double-oh agents confusing him with mixed signals. He took several deep breaths before pushing himself from his desk, dumping his cold tea down the sink and brewing another cup. He decided to go through the paperwork first, meticulously checking everything, signing and dating on dotted lines, initialing in margins, penning in missed punctuation. He peeled the top post-it note from his block and stuck it to the front page, writing a comment about the quality of Eve's word-processing, giving her an eight out of ten, paperclipping everything together and pulled himself to his feet.

 He walked slowly through the labyrinth of corridors up to Eve's office to try and clear his head, walking slower past open windows to get some fresh air into his lungs. His hangover was starting to dissipate when he handed over the paperwork, grinning at Eve when she told him to go fuck himself after reading the note. He walked at a leisurely pace back down to his office, making a mental list of things he needed to do, making sure to avoid corridors he knew Bond frequented.

 When he got back to his office he almost had a heart attack at the sight in front of him. Mallory was crouched in front of the alcohol-cupboard, staring at the contents thoughtfully.

 "Um... Sir?"

 M looked up and nodded a greeting before reaching into the cupboard and pulling out the scotch.

 "Bond has fine taste. Could you fetch me a glass, please?"

 Q spluttered but did as was asked, also flicking the switch of the kettle. "How did you..."

 M took the glass, pouring two fingers. "You think I don't know about everything that happens here? You and your pals drinking and eating takeaway?"

 Q nodded dumbly. "And you don't... mind?"

 "Not particularly. It appears to be good for productivity, having something to look forward to... It's also nice to know there's a reliable stash of alcohol in the building. I'm having a bad day, and no I don't usually drink before midday, or skulk about in the quartermaster's office."

 "Don't worry about it, sir. It seems everyone chooses my office to sulk in. There's chocolate in the fridge."

 M chuckled, taking a small sip of the amber liquid. "No thank you... Anyway... You and Bond."

 Q's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Yes...?"

 "You're not sleeping with him, are you?"

 "What?! No!" Q choked.

 "Oh... Why?"

 "Why?!"

 "He quite fancies you, y'know. I overhear his conversations with Miss Moneypenny, he sulks in her office too much, lamenting how you're not catching on. He's used all his best tricks."

 "Does he not realise maybe that's his problem? I'm not going to fall for his tricks... I also wasn't aware he... felt that way."

 M scoffed. "For a genius you're pretty bloody stupid. He's fairly sure he's in love with you... So... get it over with and shag him so I can have my assistant back. I'd like for her to do some work and not babysit lovesick field agents, thank you."

 "You're... actually telling me to sleep with a coworker?"

 "Go for it, just not in office hours or in the office. And don't get compromised. I just want my assistant back and for Bond to stop pining like a teenage girl."

 "I... But... You can't possibly-"

 "As a rule I don't get involved in other people's lives, but for fuck's sake, Q, you and Bond getting together is for the best."

 Q gaped. "What makes you think I even want-"

 "I'm many things, but I'm not a bleeding idiot. I have eyes. Don't even try and pretend you don't mentally undress Bond when he's suited and booted. You'd jump through hoops for that man. All he has to do is train his pretty eyes on you and you're lost."

 "I do not-"

 "Don't insult my intelligence, Q... Do everyone a favour and sleep with him," M sighed, quickly draining his glass. "It was good speaking with you; I've got a whole government branch to run."

 Q watched M march out of his office, staring at the door to his office trying to comprehend what had just happened. After a few minutes he could feel the beginnings of a migraine; he grabbed the phone receiver from his desk and punched in Moneypenny's code.

 "Moneypenny."

 "M just paid me a visit."

 "Oh God, are you okay? What did he say?"

 "Well, he knows about our get-togethers... He helped himself to the alcohol and told me to sleep with Bond."

 Eve let out a quiet snort. "Really?"

 "Does... does James really-"

 "God yes! How have you not noticed?!"

 "What was I supposed to notice?! He's like that with everyone!"

 "Yeah I know, that's why I told him to be... nice to you."

 Q groaned quietly. "Why me?"

 "You're adorable, Q. Bond wants to protect you and keep you all warm and safe. He also thinks you're the sexiest thing he's seen in a long while."

 "He's going mad in his old age."

 Eve laughed. "Seriously. I think it was that time there was an accident in the labs? You went to medical to get checked out, you took your shirt off... Bond uses that mental image to wank to."

 "Evelyn Moneypenny!"

 "I kid. Well, I hope I do, he hasn't told me if he wanks over you."

 "I can't believe you're-"

 "But he definitely wants to get you in his bed. And he wants to get you everything you deserve, take you to fancy restaurants, spoil you rotten. You're everything he wants; smart, sexy, and lethal."

 "Is he even gay?!"

 "For you he is... So are you... going to?"

 Q let out a quiet whimper, sliding down in his seat. "I don't know... I think I'm going to have a panic attack."

 "Q-"

 "Yep, definitely. I need a paper bag..."

 Q dropped the phone back into its holder and slipped under his desk, gulping down air, his hands trembling. He curled up on himself, feeling his stomach twist in knots and his skin prickle. The door to his office swung open, hurried footsteps getting closer.

 "Q?"

 Q's stomach gave another lurch at the sound of Bond's voice. He took another deep breath, trying to fill his lungs. Bond suddenly appeared in front of him, a concerned look on his face.

 "Jesus, Q, come here."

 Q let Bond take his hands, his skin tingling at the contact, and pull him from under the desk. They both stood up, Bond with his front to Q's back, pulling Q's arms up and around his neck, folding his hands over his chest.

 "Deep breaths, Q. Nice and slow. Breathe with me."

 After a few moments, Q's breathing regained a steady rhythm and his shivers began to die down. Bond kept a reassuring hand on Q's chest, muttering words of encouragement until the quartermaster was sufficiently calmer. Bond sat him in his chair and rushed to get him a glass of water, keeping his hands steady around it.

 "What the Hell happened, Q?"

 Q gave him a weak smile, holding his hand out to watch it tremble. "I've had a stressful day."

 "Yeah, no kidding. Eve collared me and said there was something wrong."

 "Well it was her fault!"

 "What did she do?"

 Q sighed softly, folding his hands in his lap. "She told me things I'd rather not have known."

 "What things?"

 "Just... spelling things out for me. And M paid me a terrifying visit. I need to get out of here. Do you want to take me to lunch?"

 "Q-"

 "Anywhere. Posh, expensive, greasy, ridden with E-coli. Just take me out."

 Bond nodded, pulling Q from his chair and grabbed his coat, helping Q slip it on. They strolled out of MI-6, Q huddled under Bond's arm, letting himself be folded into a black cab. They ate at a particularly expensive restaurant, sharing pleasant small-talk; Q felt Bond's foot brush against his under the table, noticed the way Bond's gaze would linger on him. He thought about everything M and Eve had told him, trying to pinpoint all the ways Bond had expressed an interest in him. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, trying to maintain a steady breathing pattern to keep himself from having another panic attack.

 "James?"

 Bond's head snapped up, a small smile appearing on his face. "Yes?"

 "Do you think M would mind if I took the rest of the day off? Panic attacks are pretty exhausting."

 "If he does mind I'll be having words with him."

 Q smiled too, twisting his hands under the table. "Thank you."

 Bond quickly called for the cheque before ushering Q out of the restaurant. "Would you like me to walk you home?"

 "Please."

 Q slipped his arm through Bond's, keeping a firm hold as they walked the short distance to Q's flat. Bond kept silent, noticing the pensive look on the quartermaster's face. He walked with Q all the way to his front door, waiting for Q to dismiss him.

 "James..."

 "You're calling me James all of a sudden. Why?"

 Q ignored Bond, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. "My panic attack... What M and Eve said... You like me, don't you?"

 Bond said nothing, watching Q nervously.

 "I know I can be pretty dense, sometimes. But they both said that you... And thinking back it all makes sense... And I know you know that I... Well... I just... want to hear it from you."

 Bond gingerly took Q's hands in his, stroking his thumb over his knuckles. "I was afraid you were too professional, or just didn't return my feelings... If I'd known you were just an idiot I would have kissed you a long time ago."

 Q chuckled nervously, looking down at his feet. "You could... kiss me now."

 Bond smirked, taking his hands back and cupped Q's face, pulling it up so he could look into his eyes. "You're sure?"

 "Not really. You should hurry up before I change my mind."

 Nodding, Bond pressed their lips together, waiting to either be pushed away or pulled closer. He could feel Q tremble beneath him, a hand shakily reaching out to grab at his lapel. Bond angled their heads for a better kiss, smiling into it when he felt Q's arm sneak beneath his jacket, curling around his waist. Not wanting it to end just yet, Bond gently pressed Q against the wall, pushing their bodies together. Q let out a quiet whimper, his fingers digging into Bond's back, twisting in his shirt.

 "That was... good."

 Bond chuckled, carding his fingers through Q's hair. "Was it, now?"

 "Anyway... I should go and get some sleep... You're welcome to drop by after work. If you do, I left some things back in my office, could you-"

 "I'll bring them for you. You get some rest."

 Q smiled shyly, tracing a finger over Bond's chest. "Thank you."

 "I'll see you later, Q."

 Q let himself be pulled into a chaste kiss before he let himself into his flat. He collapsed back against the door, his eyes falling shut as he felt his heart thump in his chest. He could still feel Bond's fingers in his hair, and his lips moulded against his own. He allowed himself to be overwhelmed for a few moments, getting his bearings back before stumbling through to his bedroom. He stripped down to his boxers, placed his glasses onto the bedside table, and scrunched his eyes shut, letting the events of his exhausting morning send him to sleep.

 He was woken several hours later to his phone chirping from the floor. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he grabbed at his jacket, dragging it up onto the bed, fishing his phone from his pocket. It was a mass of texts from Eve; obviously she'd bumped into Bond.

 "Oh my God! I'm so happy right now!"

 "I can't believe it! Is Bond lying? Are you two actually seeing each other now?!"

 "Are you alright by the way?"

 "But seriously! You slut! Making out on your doorstep! Bond said you tried to drag him to bed but he insisted you get some sleep."

 "He's a terrible liar. Phone me! I need to hear it from you."

 "Oh my God, though!"

 Q smiled, collapsing back against his pillows. He grabbed his glasses, slipping them onto his face before climbing out of bed, picking his pyjamas up from the floor. As he boiled the kettle he decided to call Eve, making sure to turn the volume down knowing how high pitched she got when excited.

 "Q! Tell me it's true!"

 Q chuckled, leaning back against the cabinets. "It's... true. Yes; he took me to lunch, walked me home and... let me make a fool of myself."

 "Nah, he loved it. He told me everything. He's uh, coming over later, is he?"

 "Yes."

 "Don't be a slut, Q. Don't let him in your bed until at least the third date!"

 Q laughed, filling his cup with hot water. "But it's been so long since I've had sex!"

 "No! James Bond can't just smile his way into your pants. Stand your ground, it'll be much better if you wait."

 "Fine."

 "Promise me, Q. No sexy times until he puts a ring on it."

 "No."

 "Fine. Third date, then."

 "Deal."

 Eve laughed, letting out a content sigh. "I'm happy for you, Q. I mean, I know being in a relationship with Bond won't be easy, it'll probably be Hell, actually, but... I bet it's worth it. He's so smitten with you already..."

 Q nodded, taking his tea through to the living room. "I think we'll be talking about... things tonight. But I think I'm cautiously optimistic... You don't think I'm desperate, do you? I'm not settling or anything?"

 "Q. Honey. I don't it's possible to settle for James Bond."

 "You think?"

 "Yes. You just enjoy being in a new relationship, all the passion and excitement; all the sex you'll be having after the third date. Making everyone around you sick from how in love you both are. Milk it, Q. Revel in it."

 Q chuckled, letting himself sink into his squashy armchair. "I shall. I can't wait for Thursday."

 "Oh... crap."

 Q went to reply when he heard another voice on Eve's end, eventually recognising it to be M. They continued talking; Q heard his and Bond's names mentioned and some laughter. Eve finally returned.

 "M says it's about time, he's happy to know your little talk did some good, and he wants you in nice and early tomorrow."

 "Great."

 "He also said I have a job to be doing. I'll speak to you later."

 

 –

That evening, Q and James spent more time curled in on each other, stroking hands over thighs and stomachs, trading lazy kisses than they did discussing the dynamics of their relationship. The only thing firmly established was the "no sex until the third date" rule, to which Bond had decided Eve wasn't to be trusted.

The next day, Bond made it his mission to spend as much time with Q as possible, getting in the way and making a general nuisance of himself. They'd managed to steal a quick moment to themselves in Q's office when they were interrupted by M.

"Not in front of me, please."

The couple pulled away, Bond smirking over at M, Q blushing and ducking his head.

"How can we help you?" Bond asked, giving Q a gentle squeeze.

"I've had a complaint from someone within Q branch of someone making their work environment stressful."

Bond chuckled, looking down at Q. "Is that so? I suppose you're here to drag me away."

"Indeed. Say goodbye and go make yourself useful in the gym. Q, I know you don't tolerate snitching in your department; it was York."

Q smiled, extracting himself from Bond's arms. "Thank you, sir. I'll get him started on the shit jobs right away."

M turned his back as Bond quickly pulled Q into a chaste kiss, promising to whisk him away for dinner at the end of the day.

The days for Q and Bond continued much the same; if he didn’t have any work to be doing, Bond would hang about Q branch, ‘helping’ Q and annoying some of the minions. If Q was too busy to babysit, he would harass Eve or Tanner instead. The couple had several ‘dates’, Bond taking Q out to dinners and lunches and for strolls around London, although much to his disappointment, Q refused to put out until he was ready. Undeterred, however, Bond spent the majority of his time out of work at Q’s flat, making himself at home on his plush sofa and claiming a side of his bed.

Still riding the high of being in a new relationship, Q didn’t mind at all what Bond did with himself so long as it wasn’t intentionally harmful to himself. He always had a smile on his face even on bad days and enjoyed James’ company in and around Q branch, so long as he wasn’t too distracting to either himself or the minions. He loved being taken out to expensive restaurants, and being taken out for exhilarating drives in Bond’s Aston. He also loved that after a long day of putting up with Bond being flashy and showing off, he got to curl up with him in bed and it just be the two of them with no agenda or motives; just a lot of cuddles and mumbled declarations of love.

By Thursday, they were both prepared to act like the most in love couple on the planet, just for the purposes of annoying Eve and Tanner. Eve had barely walked into the office when she was faced with the sight of the couple entwined in one of the chairs sharing a string of passionate kisses.

“For God’s sake, guys! You’re two grown men, not horny teenagers! Some decorum, please!”

Bond laughed, shooting a playful smirk in Eve’s direction. “Something tells me you haven’t had sex in a while.”

“And I know for a fact you haven’t either!”

“Nearly.”

Eve scoffed, marching to the alcohol-cupboard, pulling out the bottle of vodka before marching over to the kitchen to pull out a glass. “There’s no way I’m sitting around you guys being all in love whilst sober. Fuck. That.”

Q chuckled, pulling himself from Bond’s limbs, wandering over to where Eve was pouring herself a glass of vodka. “We’ll stop being annoying now, I promise.”

“Impossible... I’m happy for you, but please flaunt your happiness around other lonely people, that aren’t me.”

“I’m sure you said I was allowed to be annoyingly in love. In fact, you encouraged it, as I remember.”

“Yeah, not in front of me, thanks.”

“Hypocrite.”

Eve smirked. “Shut it, you. You wouldn’t even be happy if M and I hadn’t given you a good kick up the arse.”

“And I thank you.”

“Thank me by going back to normal for the evening. No lewd kissing or heavy petting.”

“Deal.”

Eve grinned, pouring Q a glass of vodka. “I knew I made you my best friend for a reason.”

“And here I thought it was my charming good looks and brains.”

“Not on your life, nerd.”

Laughing, they both clinked their glasses together, knocking back the clear liquid; Q jumped when a pair of arms slipped around his waist, pulling him against a strong chest.

“Starting early, are we?”

“I’m sad and lonely and he’s my drinking buddy. I drink, he drinks,” Eve smirked, pouring another round of drinks, including one for Bond.

“Just don’t be getting him drunk, I need him in full working condition.”

“Yeah, yeah, you want to screw his brains out when you get home.”

Q snorted, leaning back into Bond’s embrace. “What makes you think you’ll be getting any later?”

“Because you become a massive slut when you get drunk,” Eve giggled.

“What is it with you and calling me a slut? I’ve slept with less people than you! Also, I don’t get slutty when I’m drunk.”

“You do a little,” Bond smirked, pressing a soft kiss to the bare skin at the base of Q’s neck. Q pouted.

“Don’t.”

“Oh you do. Clothes come off, hands start going places, your voice gets a lot sexier...”

Eve groaned, wandering over to Q’s desk. “Don’t start, you two. Bill’s not even arrived with the food yet, I’d like to eat something before I throw up.”

Bond smirked, ushering Q over to the table, too. “Would you like us to set you up with someone so you’re not helplessly alone, too? I hear Simon from Intel is single.”

“No! I don’t want setting up, I just want you two to stop. Whilst I’m in the room.”

“I second that motion, especially if you want feeding!”

Everyone looked over to the door, where Tanner had just entered, bag of food under his arm.

“What is it today?” Eve asked.

“Chinese. Bond, other side of the desk, you’re not sitting next to Q.”

Bond let out a melodramatic sigh, swapping seats with Eve. Q shot him a small smile, dragging himself up and over to the kitchen to grab some plates and utensils. Dinner progressed as it usually did, the four of them discussing their lives and things that had happened during the previous week. Eve explained how after Bond and Q had gotten together, M was in a much better mood for the rest of the day, even letting her go home early.

“I wish you'd at least waited until we'd gotten a betting pool together, I could have won a load of money,” Tanner sighed, twirling his noodles around his fork. Bond snorted, knocking his foot against Q's under the table.

“I regret it a little too, I'd have liked to have gotten in on that action.”

“And if I'd have found out I would have killed you!” Q smirked. Eve laughed, reaching over to elbow Q in the arm.

“Yeah; you think you're not getting any now!”

“Well it's good job there was no betting pool and no such bet was placed,” Bond grinned.

“Good job indeed, I'm getting so tense.”

Tanner screwed up his face, dropping his fork down onto his plate. “Seriously? Trying to eat here! I do not want to be picturing you having sex! Just... Eve, pass the vodka.”

“Don't think you've eradicated the problem just because we're not sat next to each other, Bill. James and I shall find a way to ruin your evening no matter what.”

“Can it at least wait until I've finished my dinner? Please?”

Eve nodded, prodding Q in the shoulder with her fork. “I agree, keep the disgusting imagery until we've eaten.”

Bond gave Q a quick wink before shoveling another forkful of food into his mouth. Eve quickly changed the subject onto something that wasn't Bond and Q's sex life and the evening continued. Eve and Tanner did everything they could to keep Bond and Q separated, seating them as far away from each other as possible and speaking with them individually; however, neither of them paid attention to how much Q was drinking. Whilst Eve and Tanner were momentarily distracted, Q dived over the coffee table and crawled into Bond's lap, slinging his arms around the agent's neck. Bond chuckled, circling his arms around Q's waist as Eve and Tanner groaned.

“Turn your back for one second...” Tanner sighed, reaching for his drink.

“You know, I think it's time we got off, work in the morning and all that.”

Tanner nodded, quickly knocking back the last of his drink and pulled himself to his feet. Q just giggled drunkenly into Bond's neck, Bond grinning up at the other two as they cleared up their mess. They both bid the couple goodbye before leaving them alone to fit in the armchair.

“I love you when you get drunk.”

Q grumbled something into Bond's neck before pulling away so he could be heard. “Shouldn't you love me anyway?”

“I do. You're just... better when drunk. So handsy.”

“I just want to touch you all the time, but when I'm sober I have better self-restraint. Now I'm drunk I'm going to touch you and I don't care who sees.”

“Whilst I would usually encourage this, I don't want to take advantage of you.”

“Who's taking advantage? You know I want you.”

“Because tomorrow you'll shout at me for letting you make a spectacle of yourself in the workplace. So, I'm going to get you home, and then you can touch me wherever you want.”

Q sighed, letting his head loll against Bond's shoulder. “Fine. Can you just kiss me for a bit now to quench my appetite for the journey home?”

Bond grinned, shifting Q about so he was straddling his lap instead. “Anything for you.”

Bond finally had Q home and on the bed, writhing and making quiet, impatient noises. He pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses along his neck and exposed collarbone, his fingers digging in to the skin of his hips, Q squirming when a thumb was pushed into the dip of his hipbone. Bond groaned when Q's hand found the front of his trousers, awkwardly fumbling to get the zip undone, grinding his erection against Q's palm.

“I hope you remember this in the morning,” Bond muttered, making quick work of Q's fly. Q smirked, finally managing to push Bond's trousers from his hips.

 “I've sobered up quite a bit, James. I plan on remembering this.”

 Bond chuckled, divesting himself of the rest of his clothes, grinning when Q got his arm caught in the sleeve of his shirt. Q smiled up at Bond sheepishly, making it easier for Bond to strip him before pulling him down for a messy kiss, carding his fingers through the agent's cropped hair. Bond smirked into the kiss, curling his arm around Q's waist, pulling their bodies flush together, slowly grinding down against Q's skinny frame. Q groaned, arching against Bond, softly biting on Bond's bottom lip.

 Gasping, Bond pressed their foreheads together, digging his fingers into Q's skin, pushing himself up on his knees, hovering over Q's smaller frame. Q smirked up at him, gently stroking his fingers up Bond's sides, nuzzling the side of his face, littering his cheek with a flurry of light kisses. Bond chuckled, scraping his nails across the flat of Q's stomach, leaving faint red lines in his wake, until his fingers could curl around their erections, giving them a soft squeeze. Q let out a low moan, his back arching into Bond's touch, his hand jerking down to entwine their fingers together, their hands pumping in unison, both men letting out breathy moans and grunts. Bond began thrusting into their fists, letting his head drop against Q's shoulder, panting into the crook of his neck and grazing his teeth across the pale skin of his quartermaster; Q groaned his own pleasure, his hips bucking up for more friction.

 “Yes... Q... Q,” Bond moaned, mouthing at Q's neck as he tightened the grip around them, jacking them both faster. Q ground his head back into the pillow, his mouth falling open as he gasped for breath. They ground their bodies together, hips bucking and hands pumping; Bond bit down onto the junction of Q's neck, suppressing his groan into the heated skin as he came, his hips jerking, his hand still fisting Q's cock until he was coming too, letting out a low whine, his hands grabbing at Bond's waist, trying to hold on. They continued grinding their bodies together, riding out their high until Bond collapsed to Q's side, letting out a deep sigh.

 “God that was worth waiting for.”

 Q chuckled, still breathing heavily as he rolled onto his side, curling his arm around Bond's waist. “You think that was good? You have no idea what I'm capable of. I have quite the endurance... when I'm sober.”

 “You're not busy in the morning, are you?”

 “No...?”

 “Good. We'll see who can go for longer.”

 Q smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Bond's neck. “I have the advantage of being younger.”

 “We'll see.”

 “You're lucky I'm kinda drunk right now. Otherwise I'd be giving a massive shit about this... mess...” he sighed, motioning down to his stomach. Bond grinned, wrapping his arms around Q's shoulders, pulling him against his chest.

 “I'm lucky anyway, being here with you.”

 “Shut up, James. I don't appreciate sentiment.”

 “Noted.”