I've Drowned and Dreamt This Moment

Summary: It's not often Q gets to enjoy a bath and when he does, he's not alone. 00Q. Post Skyfall.

-x-

It is definitely not often Q is able to relax at home, stick some classical music on the CD player in the corner, pour himself something alcoholic but not too strong and soak himself in a nice bath whilst reading a good book. Most nights after work, or after several days at work before he even gets back to his flat, he'd come in, drop his bag and coat on the couch, strip off most of his clothes, pull on, at least, a pair of pyjama bottoms before he's face planting the bed and snoring soundly within moments. But tonight was a rare night. Q stood in the kitchen of his flat, setting the timer for his food in the microwave. He turned to the kettle next to him and placed his cup down next to it, dropping in his tea bag. He yawned loudly before he left the room and went to his bedroom, his feet almost dragging behind him. Slowly, Q stripped off his clothes, throwing them into the laundry hamper by the door and moved into the bathroom in his briefs. He frowned suddenly, noting that the bathtub was already run, bubble floating on the surface, steam rising up from it. That was strange. He'd only come in five minutes ago. But then a small smile slid onto his features. He proceeded to rid himself of his briefs before he stepped up to the tub, climbing in. The hot water was soothing on his aching muscles. Sure, he didn't do as much as the double-oh agents but he still left with a sore back half the time. Sliding all the way down into the water, Q let out a pleasurable sigh. He slid his glasses off his face, reaching behind him to put them down next to the sink. It was absolute heaven after a long day and a half at MI6. He felt like he could just sleep there and then.

Suddenly, slightly calloused fingers trailed down his chest, the contrast in temperature between them and the water made Q gasp out loud. They continued down his chest to the water, dipping below the surface. Q turned his head to the side, taking in the scent that only belonged to one person.

"Breaking and entering again, 007?" Q asked with amusement in his voice.

"Me? Never," James Bond said from behind him, his lips settling against the curve of Q's ear. Bond turning up at his flat seemed to be a regular occurrence, ever since the disaster that was Skyfall and the death of M. Bond had kissed him one night after getting far too drunk, apologised profusely before doing it again. Q was too entranced by Bond's lips to even form the word 'no'. Alas here they were, two months down the line, comfortable with each other's presence, with the small touches they gave each other, with the pleasure they brought each other on a regular basis. "You cannot call it breaking and entering when you told me where you keep your spare key." Q chuckled.

"No, I suppose not," he said, just as Bond's other hand appeared from behind him, sliding down Q's chest to join his other one where it rested on his stomach. Q could only watch those large hands, hands that had beaten the shit out of a lot of people, probably strangled others, as they gently drew patterns on his stomach. It tickled but Q liked it. He turned his head to try and get a look at Bond. He just got a face full of Bond's rolled up shirt sleeve. Suddenly 007's hands were on the move again, one sliding its way back up his chest, squeezing a nipple slightly between two fingers. Q gasped again, his breath deepening. "You're a bloody tease, 007." Bond pressed his lips against Q's neck, chuckling against it, which vibrated against his skin. Q brought one hand out of the water, reaching back to run it through Bond's hair just at the same moment as Bond wrapped a hand around the quartermaster's half hard cock. Q let out a strangled sound, the warmth of the water and Bond's hand too much. Bond's strokes were slow, sensual, coaxing Q to full hardness right there in his bathtub.

"Mm, just for me, Q?" Bond whispered, biting the skin of his jaw line gently.

"Fuck, 007," Q breathed out, his hands coming up to grip the sides of the tub as Bond kept stroking his cock.

"With pleasure, Q. But use my name," Bond said, his voice dark and husky in Q's ear. It was the most erotic sound Q had ever heard.

"Fuck ..."

"My name, quartermaster," Bond demanded with a bite to his shoulder and a squeeze to his cock. Q's heart was ready to burst from his chest.

"James, please," Q all but begged. James smirked against his skin and finally allowed Q to see him, turning the quartermaster's head to him to finally kiss those lips, Q moaning against his mouth. Q watched James for a moment as they kissed before his eyes fluttered closed. The steam from the bath made his face red hot, his hand travelling down to James' on his cock, wrapping around the double-oh agent's wrist. James' hand began to move faster, the surface water being disturbed by the movement. "Get in the fucking bath, James." James just chuckled once more.

"Always so bossy," he said. That was when all touch between them stopped and Q opened his eyes again to see James stripping off next to the bathtub. He watched him, all hard lines and perfect abs, littered with scars and memoirs of his past. Q bit his lip, wanting to reach out and touch him. Soon, James was finally lowering his trousers and briefs, putting his erection on show. And what a sight it was. James stepped up the tub and climbed in beside Q, who was just glad the tub was roomy enough for them both. Sitting astride Q, his knees planted at either side of him, James leaned in to his lover, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Q let his hands slide up James' perfect body as James pressed his hips against his quartermaster's, their cocks sliding easily against each others. Q mewled with pleasure, his nails digging into James' skin as James stole the air from him with his kisses. James thrust his hips against Q's again and again, creating delicious friction between them. The bathwater began to move with them, splashing over the edge of the tub to the floor. Q moaned loudly as James took both of them in his hand, stroking them together.

"Fuck, James ..." Q moaned, his fingers looking for something to grip and finally deciding on James' hair. James squeezed them both in his hand, making Q's back arch on its own. James had his way of playing Q liked a damned instrument; his hands Q's favourite feature, apart from this striking blue eyes. Q bit at James' lips as they kissed, the uncomfortable pull of orgasm building in his abdomen. James sped up his hand, the movement causing small waves in the water. "J ... James, fucking hell, James ..." was the extent of his vocabulary as James gave him one last hard squeeze and he was coming hard into the water, his chest heaving from breathing too hard. James gave a few more hard strokes and he joined Q in ecstasy, his orgasm less vocal then Q's. He placed his head in the crook of Q's neck as the tremors in his body began to slow. Q could only hold him, both breathing heavily.

"I take it you missed me today?" Q asked as James began to kiss along his throat.

"Not just today. You do know I have been on a mission for a week, right?" James asked. He sat up, still straddling Q. "You want me to show you how much I've missed you?" Q smirked.

"As charming as ever, 007," he joked, running a hand through his fluffy hair. "You turn up here, jerk me off, soak my bathroom floor and then want to take me to bed?"

"Problem?" James asked, slowly getting out the tub, stretching his stiff limbs.

"Not at all." Q got out as quickly as he could, pushing James in the direction of the bedroom, ignoring the soaked floor for the time being.

His empty cup still sat next to the kettle, ignored until morning.

My first 00Q and it had to be smut, I'm afraid. :) x