The damning thing about being an Omega was that, even on suppressants and blockers, there were still some aspects of his biology that would resurface from time to time, whether he wanted them to or not. Sometimes, in the more reckless and violent bouts, one good, rough shag would be more than enough to sate the tingles that flared up from the base of his spine like glowing embers waiting for a chance to spark. This, he could actually handle pretty well. Most of the time, however, the urges, if you could call them that, manifested in subtler means—like a demanding cat that would persistently wound at your feet to get your attention, even if it meant tripping you flat on your face in the process. Urges, such as the need to simply… cuddle, to be held, to bask in a comforting scent. To feel safe.
These were the ones that he really, really despised. Probably because they made him feel needy in ways that were even more vulnerable than actually calling up someone for sex.
“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”
Bond’s eyelashes were sticky with sleep when he flickered his eyes open to peer at Q, who was arching a curious eyebrow at him, hands high on his hips. He looked more disapproving than he sounded, and Bond shifted just so his head was propped up on one hand now. He hadn’t thought he would have come close to dozing just lying there, but the cozy bed, soft linens, and warm blanket had truly calmed him more than he had expected.
“I’ve missed you?” He tried for a smile, which came out better and more genuine than it had in the past couple of hours, since he had had the time to recharge himself for a bit here… nestled in the comforting, fresh scent between these sheets that was familiar and entirely Q’s.
He had just gotten back from a three-month mission. Not that it was high-stressed (not until toward the end), but the long periods of isolated waiting and tracking his targets had not been pleasant on the part of his brain where his Omega instincts resided. By the time he had gotten back to Six to submit his reports, the cold, impersonal halls that were usually neutral to him had become almost suffocating, unbearable against the itch that had wedged itself under his skin for the past couple of weeks. He had been trying to ignore it best as he could, but apparently, his resolve hadn’t been enough because when his action had finally registered back into his mind, he had already been unlocking the door to Q’s flat using the spare key that had been given to him, and had let himself in.
Looking at the haphazardly pile of discarded clothes on the floor just a few paces away from Q’s feet, he supposed the rest of what had happened was clear.
Q scoffed and rolled his eyes at Bond’s answer, and for a moment, Bond wondered if he had done the wrong thing by stopping by uninvited like this. After all, he and Q had only been having casual sex so far, and it wasn’t as if he was about to offer any of that right then in this state anyway. Whenever he was like this, sex was actually the last resort for Bond, and was only there because it came with a side-serving of physical closeness.
(He had tried having sex to ease these primal needs for loneliness avoidance before, and it had always backfired on him by increasingly aggravating the issue.)
“If you—” Bond began, his stomach sinking a little, not least because he didn’t want to leave this pleasant bed to go back to his own stale and cold one.
Selfishly, he hadn’t thought about this, about him probably crossing the line by appearing in Q’s flat out of the blue, when he had been taking off his clothes and settling his achy body between these sheets. And now, he sort of regretted it—because being with Q was easy, and losing it would mean losing a sort of safety he had grown rather used to, and appreciative of, in the past year.
Not to mention they still had to work together.
“Honestly, you couldn’t have fed the cats before you barricaded yourself in? They were positively miffed when I came home just now.” Q shook his head with an exasperated sigh and turned toward the closet. He rummaged through his clothes with Bond’s blinking eyes following his back, and emerged clutching a pair of pyjamas bottoms that had planetary prints on them.
Q was not in the habit of sleeping completely in the nude, and Bond suspected this had something to do with the fact that the young man had poor blood circulation.
“Have you eaten anything yet?” Q asked, changing right there in front of Bond without a hint of hesitation.
“Uh… no,” Bond said slowly, watching Q, the pyjama bottoms riding a little low on his hips, get into bed next to him.
“Figured.” Q leant against the headboard and opened the laptop he had brought with him on his lap. “Rest for now, we can eat later. I bought takeaways.”
Bond looked at Q for longer than what was necessary, trying to process what was going on and what it all meant to him and to their relationship. But other than the fact that his sleep-deprived, addled mind wasn’t working at optimal speed, there was a purring Omega in the back of his skull as well, and since this was undoubtedly a very good bed to be in, with the owner of said bed right beside him now even, Bond supposed there was no reason why he should waste this chance with complicated thoughts.
And so, Bond allowed himself to lie down, one arm reaching to drape across Q’s middle, and pressed his forehead against a patch of soft, warm skin of the younger man’s bare torso, a small sigh tumbling out from his lungs.
For the first time in a long time, he was contented and safe.
So, I don’t know if anyone else has noticed this before, but in the Skyfall scene with Q and Tanner leaving a trail for Silva to follow Bond, there are take out boxes on Q’s otherwise neat table. Now, as Q had likely been in Q branch the entire time since Bond left, I’m assuming that Tanner turned up to support him through arriving with a takeout for them both because he realised Q’s stressful day means he can’t have had time to have eaten. I really appreciate this tiny detail as it adds so much characterisation for something so small, as it confirms Q and Tanner as established friends and, most importantly, that Tanner is the Mom Friend™
the MI6 squad all deserve.
tanner is also drinking beer supporting q while he works but he’s the long suffering friend trying to support bond and his quirky mother
i love soft mutual pining roadtrip aus because they boil down to “local dumbasses need to travel thousands of miles together in a cramped vehicle and needlessly share shitty motel beds in order to finally admit they’re in love with each other”
I live for jealous bond/Q before they admit their feelings to one another
James trying to wind up Q by flirting with Moneypenny in front of him just because he kinda lives for seeing Q type that little bit harder on his keyboard
Q ignoring Bond all day during one of his visits to Q branch and talking with Tanner, laughing a little too hard at his jokes just to see James roll his eyes and walk out the room
Q watching James on a mission and gritting his teeth whilst James buys a pretty girl a drink just to hear the irritated snort from Q in his ear
James physically threatening to shoot a man in a bar because he comes up and asks Q to dance
Shadow In The Light 