Q (
quartermaster_q) wrote in
londoncallingrpg2016-05-18 05:59 pm
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Entry tags:
OTA
Hunting down these sorts of men, the kind who bought and sold the innocent, seemed to be a pet project for Bond, and while Q wasn't totally sure what had inspired the man's mission, he respected it.
The first time they'd followed a lead like this, it hadn't gone as hoped. Though this time around at least Q was prepared to play the part. Currently he was alone in the bar, deliberately dressed a bit younger than usual, his glasses swapped out for contacts, and his hair styled in a way that made him look younger.
Q looked young anyway, but like this he truly looked too young to be a bloody quartermaster.
This was just reconnaissance though. They knew their target frequented the bars on this street, and Q's job tonight was to simply catch his interest. He had tanner in his ear, Eve on his phone sending texts, and he wouldn't have been surprised if Bond was listening or watching as well. Though he was sure they were all bored out of their mind right now. There was no sign of their mark, and he was yet to be approached by anyone who might be involved in the ring. ...Or anyone, for that matter.
(OTA! Q is kinda on the job right now, so expect him to play a part, even if you know him. Your pup can be mistaken for the target, an associate of the target, or just get have a nice chat. If you're in the mood your character can even mistake Q for an actual possible victim/target. The choice is yours.)
The first time they'd followed a lead like this, it hadn't gone as hoped. Though this time around at least Q was prepared to play the part. Currently he was alone in the bar, deliberately dressed a bit younger than usual, his glasses swapped out for contacts, and his hair styled in a way that made him look younger.
Q looked young anyway, but like this he truly looked too young to be a bloody quartermaster.
This was just reconnaissance though. They knew their target frequented the bars on this street, and Q's job tonight was to simply catch his interest. He had tanner in his ear, Eve on his phone sending texts, and he wouldn't have been surprised if Bond was listening or watching as well. Though he was sure they were all bored out of their mind right now. There was no sign of their mark, and he was yet to be approached by anyone who might be involved in the ring. ...Or anyone, for that matter.
(OTA! Q is kinda on the job right now, so expect him to play a part, even if you know him. Your pup can be mistaken for the target, an associate of the target, or just get have a nice chat. If you're in the mood your character can even mistake Q for an actual possible victim/target. The choice is yours.)
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And they were off, Bond driving as he always did, though the traffic in this part of the city didn't allow him to be quite as careless as usual. But once they got out a bit and onto the M, he really opened it up.
"So, Quinton," he said, "How do you feel about hotels?"
He wasn't taking this game home. That would ruin everything.
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"I like them when I don't have to stay in one alone," Q replied, a deliberately awkward attempt at seduction. Playing up the idea that he was inexperienced.
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It was probably criminal how much he enjoyed this sort of game. He liked feeling like he might actually impress Q. Too often he felt that for all his experience and intelligence he failed to show Q what he was made up. He did like this shy, retiring game and he was willing to buy into it entirely.
"Me too," he said. "I have a room at the Ritz. Have you ever seen St. James from the penthouse before?"
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He loved watching the man, his gaze drinking in everything from his subtle shifts in posture, to the way certain lines on his face relaxed or creased deeper as he spoke. Bond was beautiful, and this version of him, the dangerous, the powerful version, was something Q so rarely caught a glimpse of first hand.
He watched James tear about organizations via security feeds and hidden cameras during missions, but so rarely did they bring any of that home.
Q thought of the first time he'd witnessed Bond in action, that cocky smile right before he took down his captors. ...Beautiful. Like a tiger in the wild.
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Bond purred with pleasure at the thought of showing Q something he hadn't seen. They'd been in plenty of penthouses, but never at The Ritz. The hotel was on the small side and when Bond wanted to take Q out in London he wanted to impress him. The Ritz was more...intimate. Perfect for tonight.
"So tell me a bit about yourself, Quinton," he prompted as they glided to a stop at a light. He reached over and put a hand on Q's thigh.
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"I'm a student, just finished studying abroad in America," Q replied easily. "I'm just settling back in- A bit hard with my parents living abroad, but I do alright. ...What about you, Mr. Bond? What sort of work do you do?"
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"I'm involved in international trade. Mergers and acquisitions," he lied so smoothly it was as if it could only be the truth. "I'm out of the country more than I'm in so when I am here I like to enjoy, mm, all the comforts I can indulge in."
He smiled to himself and watched the light, then stepped down on the pedal to race forward the second it changed.
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He smiled, but said nothing more until they were pulling up to the hotel.
"This is terribly romantic," he purred, aware how wrong it was to say something like that during a game like this. ...Somehow that just made it a bit raunchier.
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"You think so? Then we'll get some champagne," he said, the predatory smile creeping back into place.
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It really was impressive, and though he was playing a part, Q couldn't help but buy into the appeal of James Bond. Really, when James turned on the seduction, he was amazing.
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"And what's the name, sir?" the woman behind the desk asked.
"Bond. James Bond."
"Of course, Mr. Bond," she said with a nod. A few keystrokes and she handed the key to the porter who lead them to the lift and let them into the room. He pointed out the amenities and Bond gave him a large note and told him no disturbances except for the drinks. The porter nodded and promised quiet.
He hadn't even left when another man rolled a cart in with champagne on ice and a bowl of berries with sugar and cream. Bond presented him with a note as well, and then the door clicked and locked behind him as he left.
"Now," he said. "A drink?"
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"A drink sounds wonderful."
God, Bond was- Far too good at this. The drinks, the view, the man himself... Who wouldn't buy into the charm and romance of it all? Who wouldn't be seduced?
Though Q was starting to wonder if the game had changed. he'd thought this was going to be something dangerous and thrilling, but Bond seemed set on seduction and impressing him. Not that he was complaining, it just made him wonder if he ought to approach this differently.
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"It's lovely, isn't it? I love this city. I love England," he said. When Q took the glass he slipped an arm around the man's waist and then pulled him close with one rough jerk. His fingers dug in too hard. His eyes on Q, his mouth was a placid line and there was a heat in his eyes.
"And still...I'd rather look at you."
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"Oh?" he asked, quietly, sipping his champaign and blushing just a bit- And it wasn't all an act.
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"You are such a lovely creature. You do know what I've got in mind, don't you?" he asked. Before Q could answer he leaned in and put his lips by the man's ear. "I want to hear you beg."
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"I don't know about begging, but- I do hope to get to know you," he said innocently.
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"You're going to get to know me very well," he promised. "First thing you can learn is that I'm a man who's used to getting what I want."
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"Has anyone ever said no to you?"
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He moved in on him again, taking hold of Q's arm to pull him close again.
"Do you think you're going to be the one to tell me no for the first time in so long?"
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The memory made him shiver- And though it should have been in fear, it wasn't at all.
Were they still on the job, this would have been the part where Q promised to be good. ...But this wasn't the job any more. It was him and Bond, and Q greedily wanted to shove as hard as he could. He wanted to do all the things he knew he shouldn't in such a safe and sane relationship. ...Perhaps that was self destructive of him, or maybe it was just selfish. Either way, it was the way he took things.
"Let go," he demanded quietly, holding the glass tight as he tried to free his arm.
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"So you do think you'll be the one to tell me no," he said. "I don't think you understand what a mistake that is on your part."
Then he reached to take the champagne before Q could break the glass. He didn't want him to hurt himself, nor did he want him to have a weapon. Every move was calculated and measured, but he was deeply determined.
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The pain though, that spike of fear, it shot through him like bright pleasure. Genuine shame turned his cheeks red then, as Q wondered just what the hell was wrong with him that he could enjoy even the possibility of Bond doing any kind of real damage.
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It was easier like this.
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"You hit me," he gasped, meeting Bond's gaze with his own.
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"Let me kiss it and make it better," he said. He leaned in and kissed the hot skin lightly, which might have been kind if he didn't keep up a brutal grip on Q's arm.
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