Q felt- not vulnerable, he didn't think he could feel vulnerable with James. But he was shirtless and James' hands were moving over him and Q wasn't going to pretend he wasn't excited by the touches to his arms, to his hip, and he couldn't hide the goosebumps that followed James' hand. His breathing had hitched slightly, a tiny flush creeping into his pale skin, though it wasn't incredibly obvious in the darkness of the room.
"Oh, you're going to have to be a very, very dull man to not keep me interested, Mr. Bond," Q whispered, lifting his hand to touch James' cheek again, his thumb stroking gently along his cheekbone. "And I'm not going to die, James. I'm not going to die. Darling, I'm not going to die." Darling? He shifted forward, one smooth movement that brought him closer to James, the tips of their noses touching. "I'm far too clever to die. And it's almost impossible to save your arse if I'm six feet under, love. Can't have that," he echoed.
His fingers flittered down, skirting down the side of James' strong neck, arching his hip towards James' hand, though that was a dangerous move. Bed. James. He wonders if he should tell him he's thought about him, that he wants him, that he really wants him. But that is probably a big, silly mistake. It had hurt enough to shout it when James hadn't understood. "It's not a good thing to have favourites, James. Gets you into trouble."
James noticed the slight change in his breathing, but he was hardly in a position to comment. He found that all he could think about was exploring more of his body, slowly, getting to know every part of him- not like last time, not just a drunk seeking instant gratification in any way it was offered to him. This was personal, this was something more.
"I am, I'm terribly dull," he teased. And then he was reassuring him, and calling him darling, and he wasn't sure where that had come from, but it was nice. It was familiar and caring and sweet, and it made him smile. He was about to respond when suddenly Q was right there, inches away from kissing him, the heat of his breath teasing, enticing. God, he wanted to close the gap, to press his lips hard against Q's. And he wasn't used to holding back, he was used to just taking what he wanted- but this was Q. It was different.
But Q wanted him to, didn't he? Unless James had become useless at reading the signals all of a sudden, or he was too drunk and just seeing what he wanted to see- but no, Q had moved them closer, Q was flirting, Q was encouraging the hand against his hip- it was what he wanted.
"Mm, it does. But you like a bit of trouble, don't you?" he practically drawled. As encouraged, he kept moving his fingers against Q's hip in slow circles, before he slid round to rest his hand against the small of Q's back, gently pulling him close. All it would take would be an almost unnoticeable movement of his chin- and he did. Tipping his head just an inch or so, he placed a gentle kiss to the corner of Q's lips. It could have just been a drunken moment of sentimentality, something they could brush off and forget about if Q showed any sign of resistance now. James wasn't used to being so cautious, but there was something exhilarating about it.