londoncallingrpg

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.)

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"Oh, love, I haven't begun to hurt you," Bond answered. He put the glass down and when he came back he slapped Q across the face. This was so much easier to do like this. This wasn't even a game, this was was a legend, another him. They might have the same name but like this he wasn't Q's James. He was another man entirely. One who didn't take no for an answer. One who took what he wanted. One who could look at the man before him and who could ache to hurt him just to hear him cry out.

It was easier like this.

Bond's hand made contact, and in that moment he stopped being Q and fell into the game completely. it was so wrong, but in a way, Q had missed this. Missed how easy it was to just let the world tear you apart. To fight, knowing you'd lose. ...To fight wanting to lose, because it was so much easier than winning.

"You hit me," he gasped, meeting Bond's gaze with his own.

"I did," he replied with a nod. But his next touch was lighter, a bit of a reward for not balking entirely. He traced his fingers over the hot, pink skin of Q's cheek, so light and so gentle.

"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.

Q whimpered, and it wasn't put on. It was small and nervous, and his shoulders tensed as he accepted the kiss. His whole body lit up at the combination of cruelty and affection though, and despite the fact that he so badly wanted to keep going, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered to him about just how wrong it was- just how damaged he must be to crave violence from the man he loved.

His shoulders shook, and his free hand reached for Bond, clutching at the double-o's shirt as he stepped closer, then embraced him, burying his face against James' shoulder.

"Why am I like this?" he asked, his voice tight and breathless, as though he was fighting back tears.

"Because you are," Bond answered, not missing a beat as the game shifted to reality. He could put desire on hold and he always would when it came to Q's needs. For now he simply held him close with one arm while the fingers of his other hand pushed into the man's hair to rub his scalp.

"Shall we stop now?" he asked, not interested in making Q use his safe word tonight. He was aware of the possibility that Q would never use the word with him.

"I don't want to stop," Q said quietly. "I hate that I don't want to stop. ...I want you to hurt me. I want to ache for days. I want you to be cruel, and ruthless. I want that cold hearted killer."

He hid his face against the crook of Bond's neck, exhaling with a shudder against warm skin.

The man's scent was intoxicating, and Q let out a soft moan of pleasure before biting down hard enough not just to sting, but to leave a mark.

Bond's fingers curled tight in Q's hair, though he didn't pull him off. He held him in place as he began to truly ache with need. He let the bite go on until he had to breathe through the pain and only then did he pull hard enough to get Q off of him.

"You ruddy little bastard," he snarled, then gave Q's head a shake. His other hand closed around his throat. "Try that again and I'll make you sorry you ever thought you could."

Q wasn't stupid enough to struggle With Bond's hand around his neck, and he went still, hissing softly in pain, but otherwise behaving.

"Please," he gasped- and it was hard to tell if he was back in the game of not. ...Not that it mattered. Either way, he was practically begging for the same thing.

By his hair and his throat Bond pushed Q back, back, back against the wall where he pinned him with the brutal force of his body. He studied the man's face for a long moment and then let go of his hair so he could cup his face and kiss him. It was hard, savage, and Bond rather enjoyed the rush of taking what he wanted when he wanted it. Q was one of so very few people who had the privilege of telling him no and it was freeing for one night to not worry about yeses or nos and whether he might go too far. Whether he was being selfish. That wasn't a problem here where the lines of the game may have blurred but only to make Q more present and Bond more aware.

continued here

OTA

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