Regulations

Chapter 4

It's the warmth of the bath that helps wake him up. There are hands scrubbing his hair soothingly. And whatever salts that were put in the bath smell incredible. His head is throbbing something awful.

"Welcome back, Mr Bond. You passed out when I was stitching you together. I thought you would appreciate the chance to cleanse yourself of the day," Silva murmurs, never ceasing the gentle scrubbing of his long fingers.

"Your men-"

"Tilt your head back. You're ready to rinse," Silva interrupts.

Bond heeds the warning. Getting grazed by a bullet is bad enough; no need to add drowning to his activities for the day. He hisses as the water passes over his still-tender stitches. Although, a wash will keep away infection, he reminds himself.

"Ready to get out?"

Bond shakes the water from his eyes and instantly regrets it. He feels like he just rattled his brain inside his skull. He groans and puts a hand to his head. The room is spinning and he feels as though he's going to be violently ill.

Silva caresses his back as they wait for James' nausea to pass. He kneads his shoulders with sure fingers and slowly eases the tension out of his neck down his lower back. It feels so good.

"Fuck," James says eloquently. He can't remember a time when he was in deeper shit. He had faced explosions and injuries, and death and pain, but Severine was right. Not like this. Not like him. The words echo in his mind over and over again.

"That can be arranged. Perhaps you would like to dry off first?"

"Yes," James sighs.

Silva grins widely, excitedly. So that's what he wanted from him; resignation. Well, he could have it.

What was the point of arguing or fighting him anymore? It served only to make him mentally and physically exhausted. His initial instincts of fight or flight were leaving him in favour of self-preservation. A feeling he is unfamiliar with and unsure of how to handle. He would have time to sort it out later, while Silva was raping him or before he fell into a fitful sleep. It was the only time he ever had to completely retreat inside his mind.

Silva drains the water and gives him a hand to steady himself with as he steps out of the bathtub. Naked, he is led from the bathroom into what appears to be Silva's master bedroom. Everything looks incredibly expensive. The plushy bed looks particularly enticing. He takes a step towards it without thinking, and when he realises what he's done, immediately steps back.

Silva chuckles, "It's alright, James. Go on. You get settled, and I'll grab a towel to dry you off."

James opts not to answer and crawls into bed when Silva leaves. The bed is sun warm and baby soft. He gingerly rests the uninjured side of his head onto a pillow and hugs another one to his chest, Might as well enjoy this while I can...

Silva returns as if on cue. James closes his eyes. Silva may be administering this rub down, but that didn't mean he had to watch.

Even the towel is gloriously smooth. Silva starts with his feet and languidly makes his way up his calf and thigh to the juncture of his groin. He cannot help but twitch his hips away. Silva hushes him down like one would a frightened, yet beloved animal.

"You're alright, James. I'm only here to help. You're hurt. Let me take care of you, hm?"

"Mmm."

He slowly drops his leg back down for Silva to dry the other one. He burrows his face further into the pillow. He misses Silva's malicious smile.

"There, that wasn't so hard was it? Such a good boy, James. So good for me."

He pats James' hip to get him to roll onto his stomach. Supposedly to dry his back. Silva's hands each squeeze a cheek through the towel. James lets out a grunt; his hole has been tender since his unfortunate arrival fifteen days ago. The more Silva fucks him and plugs him, the more it tends to ache.

"Let me look at that for you. Wouldn't want any permanent damage there, now would we?"

James hears the towel hit the floor and something being uncapped. He hazards a look over his shoulder and sees an incredibly aroused Silva holding an open jar of petroleum jelly. He turns his head away, but keeps his eyes open when he feels his cheeks parting. Silva inspects him silently, and James gives thanks for small blessings. The jelly is a relief to his abused anus. Silva is being so delicate with his body, that for once he speaks before even realising what he's doing.

"Thank you."

"Ah, you're quite welcome, James." he responds affectionately.

Bond mentally berates himself. Bloody moron.

Once finished with the application of the lube, Silva strips himself down to his incredibly blue boxers before climbing into the bed with his new pet. He cups James' face in one of his hands and bends both of them closer to each other to kiss him. James tries not to analyse the sweetness the kiss held. Or as sweet as a man like Silva could be. Silva then deepens the kiss, opening James' mouth wider with his own, leaving their tongues against each other. Bond kisses back, as sensual as M had trained him to be.

Have to keep him happy while I wait this out, he tries to reassure himself. Or else I'll go mad myself.

"I got in! M, we're in! I found him!" Q shouts from his computer station.

M quickly rushes over to him, wanting to see it for her own eyes.

She immediately turns on Tanner.

"Get a team together. We've got him. I want him in my office in twenty-four hours, do you understand? And not a minute more!" she shouts at his retreating back.

Her agent was coming home. She didn't know what shape he would be in, but she would be there. She would always be there for him.