"Thank you, thank you-" he told him, not even picking up on the teasing anymore. He was tired, drunk, and over-emotional. A terrible combination. "I know. I know that. It's not your job-" he was just repeating Q now, not even sure if he was really fully understanding the importance of what he was saying anymore.
But Q's next words were so sweet, so kind- and for some reason that just upset him more. That Q could be so patient and loving toward him when he was sure that he didn't deserve it. All he did was cause him trouble- he rarely spoke about the important things, he drank himself into this sort of state and expected Q to look after him, he fucked things up and fucked people over- and Q was nice, he was kind, he was adorable, and James couldn't believe that he could ever deserve him.
Before he knew what was happening, he was crying into Q's shoulder, trying to be silent about it even though he was shaking, and he was sure Q would feel the wetness of the tears against his skin. Oh, well. He'd completely humiliated himself enough as it was, might as well just go all the way with it. But it was okay- Q had him, and every movement of his hand against his hair made him feel safe and secure.