"Mm, well then, just this once, let me be the one worrying about you," he told him, pressing a gentle kiss to his dark curls, without really thinking about what he was doing. He was just so glad to have him safe.
At the mention of the prison, James frowned. That was unnerving. "What did they want with you, did they say?" he asked, unable to conceal the paranoia he felt at every turn.
"Almost," he pointed out, with a hint of humour to his tone. He nodded, and even considered just lifting him up and carrying him home. Perhaps that would be better saved for the ladies.
"Of course, let's get you home, now," he told him. He turned a little, so that he was still holding on to Q, but in a way that should allow him to walk for himself. "Come on, now. Do you want a cigarette?" he added. It was the only thing he could offer with immediacy.