Hi awesome people!
Anyone feel like RPing 00silva? If you do, you can either hit me up on Omegle (I’m using ‘silva-bond’ as tag) or on here :) I’m more than happy with either Silva or Bond. God I missed those two.
trying on a metaphor
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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will byers stan first human second
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Cosimo Galluzzi

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Claire Keane
Peter Solarz
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@silva-bond
Hi awesome people!
Anyone feel like RPing 00silva? If you do, you can either hit me up on Omegle (I’m using ‘silva-bond’ as tag) or on here :) I’m more than happy with either Silva or Bond. God I missed those two.
"I'll do what you want me to do, forever."
We at it again kids!
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Part three, and perhaps the juiciest of our saga.
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"I'll do what you want me to do, forever."
We at it again kids!
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He longingly stared at the glass so close near Tiago's lips before tearing away his gaze again, looking out the window.
“Ah, hello! You must be James, yes?” Tiago got to his feet, offering a smile to the other man, gesturing for him to step in further. “Excited to begin your work here, are you?”
“Oh come now, James, no need to feel bad about it. We all get cocky every so often, and we just must move on. Besides, I can assure you that you’re not nearly as bad as I was before I joined the agency,” Tiago chuckled.
“Perhaps I should take you home, James. Unless you feel you can get a cab on your own, and not be hit by a car in the process…”
Short one this time, for safekeeping purposes.
"Perhaps I should take you home, James. Unless you feel you can get a cab on your own, and not be hit by a car in the process..."
“Ah, hello! You must be James, yes?” Tiago got to his feet, offering a smile to the other man, gesturing for him to step in further. “Excited to begin your work here, are you?”
“Oh come now, James, no need to feel bad about it. We all get cocky every so often, and we just must move on. Besides, I can assure you that you’re not nearly as bad as I was before I joined the agency,” Tiago chuckled.
In which Le Chiffre somewhat makes an appearance, James gets too drunk for his own good and keeps on saying stupid things and regretting them, and Tiago starts to doubt his dedication to his new job.
"Gives me the idea you're... in control," he dropped the word heavily before bringing his eyes back to the man again.
In which Tiago meets James for the first time, they head out for a drink, and James makes a surprising revelation that could most definitely work out for the both of them.
Seriously, this is long. And unfinished as of yet. With every intention of getting finished sometime soon.
It's amusing yet also a little disheartening when you finally land some hits on the 00silva tag on Omegle and the first thing everyone says to you is "FINALLY a fellow RPer!" It's times like these that I feel a little sad that this fandom is so small, despite the intimacy of it and its general awesomeness.
"Oh come now, James, no need to feel bad about it. We all get cocky every so often, and we just must move on. Besides, I can assure you that you're not nearly as bad as I was before I joined the agency," Tiago chuckled.
“Ah, hello! You must be James, yes?” Tiago got to his feet, offering a smile to the other man, gesturing for him to step in further. “Excited to begin your work here, are you?”
"I'll do what you want me to do, forever."
We at it again kids!
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"Ah, hello! You must be James, yes?" Tiago got to his feet, offering a smile to the other man, gesturing for him to step in further. "Excited to begin your work here, are you?"
You: James had been feeling impatient all day, wanting to get started, yet also a little anxious over the idea of finally getting to work. You'd think the experience of being a Commander would eliminate all nerves, but he felt like a rookie, clueless on what awaited him. It didn't help that as he'd gotten familiar with MI6, talking to people, he'd heard stories about the other agents - and the stories that stuck with him most were those about the Double-oh agents, the best of the best. And then of course there'd been the stories about the new 00, Rodriguez... the one that was supposed to be mentoring him. He'd finally reached his destination, knowing that behind that door awaited the one responsible for his further career in MI6. He took a deep breath, then knocked on the door and walked in.
Stranger: "Ah, hello! You must be James, yes?" Tiago got to his feet, offering a smile to the other man, gesturing for him to step in further. "Excited to begin your work here, are you?"
You: "Yes, Sir," James said, subconsciously almost making a salute. "I am, Sir." He eyed the other man, trying to find any clues as to who this man was. The smile seemed sincere enough, so he shot him one in return.
Stranger: "No need to be so formal, you know," the Spaniard offered him a hand, rather amused by the stiffness of Bond's manner. It was the nerves combined with the military training, likely.
You: James stepped forward and shook his hand, matching the firm grip, not wanting to appear weak in front of the 00 agent. "I'm sorry, Sir. What do I call you?" The grin on his face didn't escape him and he scoffed a little, thinking he hadn't made as good a first impression as he'd wanted to.
Stranger: "Just call me Tiago, James. Tiago is perfectly alright," releasing his grip he allowed his hand to fall back to his side, then pausing, for he really wasn't all too sure in regards to what to do at this point. He had been simply told that he would be mentoring, and that was all. Perhaps he was to put James through the physical tests, for he certainly wasn't qualified to be doing the mental ones?
You: "Tiago. Understood." He refrained from calling him 'Sir' again, the word burning on his lips. It didn't really feel appropriate, seeing as the other agent was obviously older than him - not by much, though - and had risen through all the ranks James hoped to reach one day. But he wanted him to call him by his first name, so that was what he would do. "If I may ask - what will we be doing? I was told you'd be the one in charge of me."
Stranger: "That's quite the coincidence, for I was told that as well!" Tiago gave a soft chuckle, clasping his hands behind his back and studying James carefully. The young man seemed as though he would be capable of doing well in Double-oh training, though he had decided that it would indeed be logical to place him through the qualifications tests first. "As for what what we'll be doing? Well, first we must put you through the qualification tests to begin your training - cardio, weapons, mental, the like."
You: James nodded, the tension in his stomach easing a bit. This was exactly what he'd hoped for; he knew he should be fine if it came to standard tests. "Anytime you want."
Stranger: "Off this way, then," slipping past James, he gestured for the other to follow him down a narrow corridor, taking him into a room filled with various equipment, in which stood another man. "James, this is Tanner. He'll be taking the results of the tests, for I myself am not qualified to do so, as a Double-oh agent."
You: James couldn't keep himself from rolling his eyes at Tiago yet again asserting his rank as 00. Obviously he was enjoying holding it over him, or maybe he was trying to motivate him into following in his footsteps. Either way, James cast his eyes from him to the man called Tanner, who smiled at him and offered him his hand as well. James shook it, finding his grip was far less powerful than Tiago's had been. Then they set to work; Tanner first handing him the training gear provided by MI6. James looked at it, figured it would cost valuable time if he went to look for a locker room, and just shrugged off his suit then and there, allowing Tanner to place the various wires and other equipment to him to monitor his process before he put on his new outfit. "So where do we start?"
Stranger: "Just hop up on there, if you will," Tanner replied, gesturing to a treadmill in the corner. "Just walk until I ask you to stop, and be mindful of the wires, please."
You: James frowned just slightly; if things were going to be this /basic/ he was in for a long, boring day. But no matter - this was what he signed up for, and if this was where he'd have to start, so be it. And so he got on the treadmill, starting to run in a steady pace, which gradually grew faster. It wasn't too long until he actually started enjoying himself, the exercise loosening him up, blood rapidly circulating through his body.
Stranger: After a few minutes of observing James, with Tiago by his side, Tanner took down a few notes, then asking James to move onto the next test. This was followed by another, and another, and yet another, until the entire process was finished off with a word association test and a few other psychological tests. With a wave, Tanner headed out of the room, going off to process the information that he had obtained. "Now for the more entertaining part, I think," Tiago smiled, gesturing for James to yet again get dressed. "I'm going to have to take you for target practice, to see how apt you are at firing a gun."
You: He couldn't prevent the smirk from spreading on his face. If he'd been sure about the basic tests, he was /definitely/ sure about this one. He put on his own clothes again, smoothing a few wrinkles in his suit, then followed Tiago into the shooting range. Rocking back and forth on his feet he was impatient to get a gun in his hands and show the 00 agent his skills.
Stranger: "Here you are," momentarily weighing a pistol in his hands, Tiago handed it over to James, then stepping back and clasping his hands together, nodding at the target. "Go right ahead and shoot."
You: James aimed and took his first shot; then another one, and again and again until he knew the gun was empty. The target was hauled towards them and James mentally calculated his score. 85, he thought, out of a hundred... not bad, but certainly not his best display. Then suddenly an idea was sparked in his mind. "What was your score?" he asked Tiago, turning to look at him, unable to hide the glint in his eyes. He was highly curious; if Tiago was stuck showing James around MI6, there might be a reason he was not out in the field.
Stranger: Tiago nodded, rather pleased with how well James had done with the target, how consistent most of the shots were. Upon being asked the question, the Spaniard raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to comprehend what it was the other had meant. "Ah, you meant the score I got in the firing range," pausing, he tried to recall what it was that he had gotten. "I got a 97, I believe."
You: James couldn't prevent his jaw from dropping, staring at the older agent, completely incredulous. "You're lying," he could only say. "There's no way -"
Stranger: "I'm lying, am I?" Tiago chuckled at the agent, giving a slight shake of his head. "No, I'm afraid that I'm not, James, as much as you may think I am."
You: "Then prove it," he told him, not even realizing he was accusing his mentor, the man he was supposed to look up to - whom he /did/ look up to, if he was to believe the stories he'd heard - of lying to his face, even /demanding/ that he backed up his words. That realization only hit him seconds later - seconds too late, because the words had already left his mouth. "Shit - I'm sorry. Forget I said that."
Stranger: "No, no. It's quite alright!" he laughed, giving another shake of his head. "It's understandable that you would like to see that. It was on my first shooting range test that I scored that, and I can't promise you that I'll get exactly a 97 this time around, but I'll do what I can," taking up another gun and checking that it was loaded, Tiago took his position, holding up the weapon and taking a moment before firing the round consecutively into another standing target. Dropping the empty weapon to his side, he examined his work, giving a slight nod. "You can take a look, if you'd like."
You: James walked up to it, finger moving from bullet hole to bullet hole, rapidly adding the scores. Oh, /fuck/, he royally screwed up; way to introduce yourself, James. He clenched his jaw as he strutted back to Tiago, hands in his pockets, looking absolutely /not/ amused.
Stranger: "Satisfied that I wasn't lying?" Tiago asked, placing the weapon back down and casting another look at the target. He was rather surprised that he had done this well this time around, actually, for it had been a bit since he'd done target practice since his training.
You: "I told you to forget it," James drawled, wanting to forget this ever happened himself. "Fine, yes, I believe you. Now can we go? Is there anything more you'd wanted to do, or can I get out of here?"
Stranger: "So eager to get out already, are you?" he raised an eyebrow, then striding out of the range and gesturing for James to follow him. Arriving back in his office a few minutes later, Tiago gave the other man a curious sort of look. He looked agitated, flustered. "I believe that that is it for today, actually. The first day is usually just the preliminary testing," glancing up to the doorway as he heard footfalls approaching, he watched as Tanner entered, promptly handing him James' scores before leaving. "Ah, you can have a look at these, if you'd like to."
You: "No, that'll be fine," James told him, his eyes darting over the file. He didn't know why he refused to take a look, perhaps he didn't want to accidentally compare himself to Tiago again. Whatever his scores were, they could only disappoint him; just as his 85 had before. Especially after hearing what Tiago had scored on his first day on the job - he still had trouble accepting that apparently he'd been so far ahead of him. Then again - he really seemed to have landed the best agent MI6 had to offer. Maybe for once he should put his ego aside and try to learn something.
Stranger: "If you so wish," Tiago responded, placing the paper on the most available nearby surface and addressing James with a nod. "Well, that's it for today, then. You may leave, though if you'd like, you're perfectly welcome to wander about the agency, if that's what suits you. I myself have been allowed an early exit today, for M would like me to get to planning your training for the upcoming days. However, I do think that I shall not go home quite yet, but shall instead enjoy what central London as to offer."
"When they said I'd have hallucinations because of too much scotch, I didn't listen I know, but this is just shit." He scowled. "I don't need this." Clearly he didn't think Silva was real, not yet anyway.
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"So it's all just a matter of numbers, then?" Silva asked him. "One agent for six others? Let me tell you, James, I was far more useful than the six that got saved. And she didn't even know them. Barely knew their names. Read them in a file..." He paused and took a deep breath, studying Bond. At least he got his attention now. "Most of all... I hadn't been compromised. I did it all for her. That's how she found out. I hacked the Chinese, yes, but solely to acquire more information to help the mission. I sent it to her. She even thanked me. She thanked me James, told me to keep up the good work. And then when they were onto me - she gave me up the very next day."
"When they said I'd have hallucinations because of too much scotch, I didn't listen I know, but this is just shit." He scowled. "I don't need this." Clearly he didn't think Silva was real, not yet anyway.
Stranger: Bond opened the door moments later, staggering slightly, half from drink and half from a wound he'd recieved on his latest mission. He kicked the door shut with his foot and flicked on the lights-and froze. "When they said I'd have hallucinations because of too much scotch, I didn't listen I know, but this is just shit." He scowled. "I don't need this." Clearly he didn't think Silva was real, not yet anyway
You: Well - that was a surprise. Not the drinking, of course; but this was certainly not one of the scenarios he'd played out endlessly in his head. "Huh," he scoffed, looking up at him from the chair he was occupying. "It's good seeing you again, too, James. Forgive me for intruding."
Stranger: Bond stared at him hard and then realization seemed to hit him like a ton of bricks. "You can't be alive. You-" He yanked his gun out, not about to take any chances. "What the hell are you doing here?" he ground out, anger pulsing through his blood. He was the reason M was dead, and this bastard had the nerve to show his face in Bond's own flat
You: "I told you," he said coolly. "Life clings to me like a disease. I came here to talk to you." He wasn't the least bit nervous by the gun pointed at him. Bond wouldn't shoot him; not just yet, anyway. Surely he'd want to hear him out. "Please, James, there's no need for that. I'm unarmed. See?" He raised his hands, obviously empty. "I just wanted you to know my side of the story."
Stranger: "Some disease," Bond snapped with a glare. "Last time you were unarmed in a glass cage with armed guards and you managed to escape. I don't make the same mistake twice." He scoffed slightly. "Please, spare me the dramatics. I've heard your side of the story. You are the reason M and several agents and others are dead. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you here and now"
You: Silva waved away his comment. "You never really heard my side. Only what Mother told you. Now, would dear Mummy have said anything to incriminate herself? She's not the saint you think she is, James. She was a lot of things, but not that. Far from it. She knows how to reach inside you, take hold of your soul and just yank it out. Don't think that this -" he passed a hand over the left side of his face "- was on me. It wasn't. Just as that -" he points at Bond's abdomen "- wasn't on you. Unless it was. Did you do something to deserve that, hm?"
Stranger: "She did what she had to do. Just as every agent in MI6 does. You think I haven't been traded away from the sake of others lives? It's practically in the job description, Silva. She may have been no saint, God I'll agree to that. But she was never the monster you make her out to be. There;s no point trying to convince me of that, don't waste your breath," he told Silva cooly
You: "Do you even know why she gave me up?" he asked him, eyes narrowing as a slight anger came over him. "Did she ever tell you why she handed over her best agent to the Chinese government, knowing full well the methods of torture they applied? Without even /considering/ to save me from them? What kind of person can make that decision?"
Stranger: "Because she was saving other lives!" Bond retorted in a low voice. "She believed you to be compromised anyway, and she got agents back." He felt an ache of almost pity well up in his chest but he shook it away with a slight jerk. "You can't afford to think with your heart in this line of work. It will kill you," he said, looking away for a moment
Every part of him was left, and left raw in the open air for Bond.
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"You're a mess, James," he breathed, placing a kiss just below his ear. "Maybe you should reconsider your current way of life. You can't be an agent forever."
Stranger: Stop texting me, won't you? -JB
You: Only if I can see you in person, dearest. -RS
Stranger: And if I invite you over for a drink, will you stop blowing up my phone? -JB
You: For the time being, maybe. -RS
Stranger: Fine then. I have no doubt you know my address, seeing as you've hacked into my emails twice. Tonight. Four in the evening. -JB
You: You know me too well. It was three times, though - it's fascinating stuff. Not as fascinating as you though. I'll be there. Expect me a little early. -RS
Stranger: I'll be waiting, albeit only slightly eagerly. And changing my email passwords. -JB James sat back in his flat, freshly cleaned up of course, just for Silva. He didn't want him thinking he was a slob, right? At least not a slob when he was sober. Drunk was another story. A long story. The field agent straightened the sleeves of his suit-shirt, checking the buttons, tightening the tie, rolling up the sleeves just to show off toned forearms, and then he waited, reading a novel.
You: He allowed a smile to play around his lips as he walked up to James' door. He'd followed someone else in so James wouldn't have to buzz him up - he was rather fond of surprises. He checked his watch - only fifteen past three. Ah, not like James wasn't used to it. And there it was, his apartment. He stretched out a hand and lightly knocked, three times, always three times, then waited for him to open the door, rocking back and forth on his feet, hands behind his back.
Stranger: James was just beginning to doze off as he jerked awake, regardless of the soft knocking. It felt loud enough to his sensitive ears and his... steady? nerves. Well, so he liked to think. According to his most recent tests he still utterly failed the mental portion, with a 45%. A lot of PTSD, apparently. Whatever. He pushed it to the back of his head and readied himself for a fight. It was always a fight with Silva. He hated how he had to struggle to keep dominance, or some parts of it, and he ended up needing a heavy painkiller for his head and an even heavier drink. With a sigh, he rubbed his -growing a bit too long- hair and opened the door, running his eyes over the man. "Raoul." And he stepped aside so he could enter. "Please. Sit down."
You: "Thank you James, so nice of you." Silva walked inside, then turned around to present him the present he'd concealed behind his back. "Thought you might like this. I know, I know, it's no Macallan, but it's good, trust me." He grinned innocently at him, eyes roving over his body - James looked nice, /very/ nice. So nice, in fact, that he almost felt like skipping the drink and going straight down to business. But James had dressed up for the occasion, and alcohol always seemed to loosen him up a little, so he might as well enjoy himself.
Stranger: James gave a cool smile and closed the door after him, taking the bottle. "Thank you." He tried not to take the bottle to eagerly, but he licked his lips. He always did enjoy a drink, more than enjoy really. He craved the booze inside the bottle as soon as he touched the glass. With deft hands he poured to deep glasses of the strong liquor -more meant for shots, but it was too much effort to always keep pouring new ones. And who needed to keep track of numbers anyway? He sat down on the couch, handing Silva his own glass before taking a gulp of his own. Oh... good. He closed his eyes a moment. "Been a while since I've had anything but beer." He seemed to relax, just after one sip, he looked less tense.
You: Silva didn't immediately drink, just watched James sip from his own glass, his eyes fluttering shut. Ah, good, he liked it - Silva had been a little worried that perhaps James would've found it too strong. If he got too drunk Silva wouldn't have any use for this meeting, because James would end up passing out on the couch - but anywhere from tipsy to moderately intoxicated, James tended to become /really/ willing to do almost anything - as well as become really demanding. Silva liked when that happened - of course he'd never give him control, but James could be very... persuasive.
Stranger: James leaned back once more, taking another gulp. There wasn't enough in the glass to get him wasted, but it was enough to make him very loose lipped. He gave Silva a little smile, the booze already beginning to make him buzz. "I assume you're here for the usual reasons, hmm? Well, I'm feeling rather difficult tonight, Raoul. Pity for you."
You: He scowled. "Then why invite me?" Right, this was a good a time as any to start drinking. He relished the burning sensation in his throat as he finished the glass in one go, licking his lips as he peered over at him. "Is there ever another reason as to why you ask me to come over?"
Stranger: James shook his head and smirked, "No, there never is. It's been a hard few weeks at work... stressful. Grinding." He sighed and stretched out, loosening his tie. "Don't kid, hmm? I know you like it when I'm stubborn."
You: "James dear, you're always stubborn, I wouldn't be here if I /didn't/ like it, hm?" He reached for the bottle, filling his glass again, as well as refill James'. "So tell me about work. I've noticed you were out of town last week, foreign IP addresses in your mail... something interesting going on at dear old MI6?"
Stranger: The double-oh agent nodded, taking another sip of his drink, enjoying the fire in his throat. "Yes, something interesting and ultimately resting upon my work and my shoulders. Annoying. Stressful. Urgh..." He finally pulled his tie from his neck, laying it on his own thigh. He kicked off his shoes as well, eyeing Silva up now.
You: Oh, James was undressing, the heat from the liquor undoubtedly getting to him... sooner than expected, but nevertheless, very good, if the look in his eyes was any indication. Silva purposefully didn't look him in the eye, knowing that if he did, it'd be very hard to resist whatever he had coming to him. Nevertheless his eyes were pulled towards his legs as James put down his tie, where it lingered a little longer than he intended. "So what is it? No doubt it's classified, but you know I'll just hack into the system to find out what it is, so better spare your Quartermaster the trouble of finding out how /someone/ got into your system again and tell me."
Stranger: James nodded, giving little fight to the blonde man. "Yes, I should probably just tell you... Q will no doubt be pissed if you get past his firewalls again." He took another sip of booze and he sighed, "...There was a rather large information leak in a Russian station. A few agents got found out. I had to run clean up and a few negotiations. Stressful. Lost a lot of money over this."
You: "That's unfortunate," Silva nodded, remembering the times when he'd been an agent and they lost fellow operatives. Some had been friends, even. "You never stop to think that you too are placing your life on the line while you're out on missions, eh. Until it's too late." He trailed off for a second, fingers drawing circles on the glass in his hand. "I'm glad to see you made it back alive. I kept track of you, of course, but it's good to see you in person, alive and well."
Stranger: James smirked once again, his icy blue eyes following the path of Silva's fingers. He nodded, licking drops of drink from his lips. "...Well, I suppose I should feel safer with you looking out for me. But yes, it just comes with the tiring... tiring job." He rolled his neck, annoyed now, beginning to get up and pace the room, looking a bit dizzy. "Annoying job..."
You: Silva watched him, watched him pace around the tiny space. "Is that why you wanted me here?" he asked, not paying any attention to the glass in his hand anymore, eyes focused on James. "To unwind? You look tense, James. Like the life is being sucked out of you. Come here." He patted the spot beside him on the couch. "You need to relax. Stop thinking for once. Just... let it all go."
Stranger: James nodded and grimaced as he stopped his pacing, sitting down next to Silva, rolling his shoulders, so very, very tense. "I am tense." He snapped, frowning. "So fucking tired, so fucking stressed.... sometimes I wonder why I do this every fucking day."
You: Silva shook his head, placing his glass on the table. "C'mhere," he repeated, motioning him to turn his back to him. He placed a hand on James' neck, thumb brushing over his skin. "I'm here now, I'm going to take care of you. All this stress... it's not good for you, James. I'd tell you to consider quitting if I knew you'd listen, but you won't, so... just allow me to make you feel a little better."
Stranger: 007 smiled as the man brushed his fever-hot skin, hot from stress, emotion and the booze running through his system. "Oh, please." He mumbled. "Take care of my stress. Please." Silva was probably the only one he could admit that he even /had/ stress to. Over at MI6 he was a superhero whose mask could hold no cracks. Raoul was all he had, the only one who had seen through his mask the first time. James sighed.
You: He tenderly worked his fingers, easing the tension in his neck that had James stiff as a board, knots everywhere he went. It was really tempting, having him this close to him, touching his bare skin, but he knew this was what the agent needed right now. He felt sorry for him, but at the same time a little honored that James had chosen him to make him feel better. He leaned forwards just slightly, resting his nose behind his ear, in his hair, breathing in his smell as he continued to caress the warm skin, whispering, "You should invite me more often. You can't do all this alone."
Stranger: James' mouth parted in pleasure as his knots were worked out, leaving loose, rubbery muscle trailing after the man's deft hands. He purred, just as a cat would, only hissing a bit at the largest knots. "...I can do this alone." He growled stubbornly. "I just... I just need to get back on my feet. It's been rough since you know, I got shot. Been real rough... I can't seem to get into the flow of work... but I'm fine alone..." He leaned back into Silva's chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. "...I assume you've seen my recent testing scores?"
You: "Hm..." Silva didn't feel like confirming it, but James would know if he lied; of course he'd seen them. "Maybe you can handle the job on your own... but you still need someone to look after you. You can't hold yourself together merely with drinks and pills, I've told you that." One hand left his neck and fingers darted alongside James' jaw, passing the stubble. "You're a mess, James," he breathed, placing a kiss just below his ear. "Maybe you should reconsider your current way of life. You can't be an agent forever."
Stranger: James took another sip of his drink, his tongue getting as loose as his muscles and he began to stop caring about his reputation right now. "I suppose I do..." He mumbled, his eyes closing as he breathed in the comforting, yet sharp scent of Raoul's cologne. "....I'm rather sick... of trying to stitch myself together all the time... you know how awful it is waking up in a haze of pills and booze aftermath?" He groaned, clenching his fists. "I am a mess... but what will I do? Being an agent is all I know..." James was desperately crying out for help without actually saying it.
You: His fingers stilled, the hand moving to gently grab his chin, turning James' head to look him in the eye. "You don't have to be," he softly said. "You could die again. Get away from it all. No more exhausting missions, fighting for your life. Just settle down. Do whatever you want, and nothing you don't want to." He leaned in to kiss him, carefully brushing his lips against his. This had not been what he had expected when he came over - he'd imagined their kisses to hold so much more heat, hunger, like they always did; but somehow it felt right to just kiss him like this, without any further expectations, his hands firmly yet cautiously holding him in place.
Stranger: James turned willfully to Silva, his blue eyes scanning his face. "Yes, but what will I /do?/" He mumbled, "I am not one for just sitting around... just sitting around means more pills and anxiety and fidgeting..." He kissed back, not giving any more or less than Silva, just...being.
You: "I'm sure you'd figure something out," he told him after they broke apart, slowly caressing his cheek, a little lost in the eyes looking back at him. "Maybe we can come up with something together. Make some plans of our own. Go out and see the world, maybe cause a little mayhem here and there... it sounds nice, doesn't it..."
Stranger: James nodded and smiled, "...I think I'd like that. I'm... I'm starting to grow tired of this. It's been too long."
You: Silva wrapped his arms around the body lying against him, slowly placing a few kisses on his neck, cherishing the warmth and the feeling of James this close to him. "I've been waiting for the day to hear you say that. All those times wondering, James, if I'd see you again after you've left for God knows where... it will be good to know you'll be home waiting for me. You've had a good run... maybe now really is the time to quit."
Stranger: James smiled and nodded, turning into Silva, wrapping his arms around the larger man's chest. He was laying on his now, chest to chest, neck nuzzled into the other man's collarbone. "Having someone come home just to see me? That sounds nice. Real nice."
You: Silva looked down at him, passing his fingers through James' hair. The weight lying on top of him felt reassuring, it felt safe. "Do you even have any idea how much I love seeing you? To just be with you? I know our visiting arrangement seems mostly physical, but... I do care about you James, honestly I do."
Stranger: James smiled again, hiding the smile in Silva's expensive shirt. "...I may not say it, but.... I really love seeing you. Talking to you... being with you..." He hugged him tighter, like he was a life raft.
You: Silva pressed his lips to his head before sighing into the blond hair. "I've told myself many times before to just wait until you got tired of going in for work," he murmured. "But it's been hard... I want the decision to stop to be yours, and even now, I can't even fully believe that maybe now you'll leave. It just feels surreal. To have you all to myself, day and night, to not have to worry anymore... It would mean the world to me."
Stranger: James smiled again, this time letting Silva see. "See really odd to me too but it feels... right, you know? It's time for me to relax. Thanks for helping me see that it was the right time." He clutched him even tighter. "Oh, I owe you..."
You: The smile on James' face was a rare, very rare sight to see, and for a moment it just took his breath away - the blue eyes smiling along with his lips, his face far more relaxed than it had been in ages. "You don't owe me anything," Silva told him. "This is your life, you should be the one to decide how to live it. As long as I'm part of it."
Stranger: James curled up like a child, sighing peacefully. "Where can we go? Where will we live? Can there be a beach?"
You: "Wherever you want to go. If you want there to be a beach, we'll go to a beach. I'll /buy/ you a beach if you want me to," Silva muttered, resting his other hand on James' back, mindlessly caressing him. "Maybe we can go to France... spend lazy afternoons drinking wine, enjoy the weather... I've always found it way too chilly in England, too much rain."
Stranger: James sighed, "...You're so good to me..." He said, drawing little spirals on Silva's chest, dipping in below the collar of his shirt. "...Yet I give so little back. It's amazing you so much as wish to speak with me... and yes. France sounds nice. Somewhere with water and warm weather and good food..."
You: He shivered a little at the intimate touch, closing his eyes. "Don't," he said. "Don't put yourself down like that. I'm the one who should be thankful for you, not the other way around. You're amazing, you know that? That you'd risk your entire career, go against everything you've ever believed in for me. When you could've just turned me in. Gave me up. But you didn't. I can't tell me how grateful I am that you didn't. That you decided to hear me out. Understand me. God, James, you are the only one who understands me. I couldn't wish for anything more."
Stranger: James grinned and pressed kisses to Silva's neck, not responding just nodded and listening. "We understand each other." He worked his way up and down Silva's body with his hands.
You: Silva let him, enjoying the touches along his body, his eyes never leaving James' face. "Really, you tell me what you want and we'll do it." He didn't even care that his words might later be used against him if James got other ideas on his mind, falling into their old fights for dominance again, but for now, he meant every word he said. "You... hn." His breath caught slightly in his throat as James passed a particularly sensitive spot, and his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, despite his best intentions.
Stranger: James purred against his throat, nodding. "Hmm, careful what you say, Raoul, I might ask for an awful lot now..." He was all but worshiping Silva's body now, kissing almost every inch hungrily.
You: "Ask all you want, we'll see how it works out for you," he managed, involuntarily leaning into James. Usually he didn't let him do this; he was the one to push James up against the wall, down on the bed, and devour him with his lips, his teeth, eliciting the very same responses from James that were now dangerously close to escaping /him/; but this time it worked, it felt more than right, and he let him. Let him take the initiative. James might think he needed a haircut by now, but Silva loved the way it looked on him. Silva tangled a hand in his hair, opening his eyes again, just trying to believe that this was his future. That he could have all this and more.
Stranger: Bond finally got up and away from Silva, smiling. "It's late you know, and it's probably not safe for you to go home with so much booze in you... why don't you sleep here tonight, hmm?" James smiled and stripped off his shirt, giving Silva more than a bit of a show. It was obvious he'd been working out as hard as he drank. "...I need a haircut, too."
You: "So glad you asked," Silva smirked, although the booze was probably affecting him less than it was James. But when had James ever sent him home - it had become an unspoken agreement that he always stayed the night. He did pout slightly as James got up though, immediately missing the warm pressure on his body, the lingering touches on his skin. Watching James as he started to undress did slightly alleviate his desires, but it was not enough, not by far. No matter what happened if they got into bed together, he just needed to feel him against him. The last time he slept here seemed ages ago; and he suddenly couldn't fathom how he had gone so long without James by his side. "You look great," he told him, eyes leaving James' torso to look him in the eye; whether he meant his hair or other physical attributes, he didn't say.
Stranger: James grinned, "Do I? Well, thanks..." He then stripped off his trousers and moved to Silva, beginning to button his shirt. "You got too much clothes up on for me to say the same..."
You: "Hm, so why don't you do something about that," Silva told him lazily, leaning back into the couch, not making any attempts to help James. He just wanted to feel his hands on his body again, get him closer than where he was now - especially now that he was mostly naked, showing off the still very well toned muscles. It took every ounce of his self-restraint not to reach out and let his hands travel over his chest, his abdomen, but Silva succeeded, allowing him to remove his shirt.
Stranger: James nodded and struggled to get Silva's stupidly expensive shirt off, and then working on his belt while giving attention to every scar on his body, kissing the old cuts and burns. "Hmm, much more pretty than I."
You: "I wouldn't be so sure about that..." He trailed off again, losing himself in James' attention. He remembered the locations of the scars by heart; and he knew James did, too. As fingers started working on his trousers he raised his hands, capturing James' face and pulling him in for a searing kiss, suddenly overcome with love and affection for the man standing over him.