"That's ridiculous, I always worry about you, James," Q murmurs, happy to be pulled back to James' body. "I worried about you whilst I was in the prison-" he hasn't told them it was a prison yet, and Q frowns, pressing his face into the book between James' neck and shoulder.
"You almost sound sentimental," he adds in a little whisper, his lips brushing James' skin, his cold nose tucked against his neck. He doesn't know if he could let go of James now if he was being prised with a lever. "Please, take me home, Samir will catch up. Take me home, James."