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.
Stranger: It was beginning to seem like the light at the end of the tunnel for Bond, going home for good, as he struggled through day after day of search and find with another ridiculous villain. Scum of the Earth. Was there no end to the groups of terrible people in this world? Things were a blur of responsibility, almost predictable in where to go next, and where to point the barrel of his gun.
You: He spent most of his days just staring at his phone waiting for it to ring, to hear from James, let him know he was alive and well. It was his personal phone - the only one who could reach it was the agent, and so for days it kept silent and silent until he just got up and dropped it on the nightstand on James' side of the bed, where it would be within his reach. The bed too large for him alone, especially considering the way he slept so very still, he usually just crawled onto James' side and lay there waiting until he'd become so exhausted that sleep would take him away. All the while hoping for him to call him or send a message - some nights waking up, thinking he'd heard that familiar sound that meant he would be on his way home.
Stranger: Bond fell down on the bed, sighing with relief at finally being able to rest. He would be going home in the morning. Morning seemed like a foreign concept to him suddenly. The life of an agent was perpetual night. Something was clear to him, and that was a need to call Silva. He used the hotel phone, laying fully clothed on the bed as it rang. There was a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach for some reason.
You: He was instantly awake at the sound of his phone ringing in his ears. For a split second he thought he imagined it again, but then it kept going and he scrambled over to the nightstand, immediately pressing Answer. "James?" he breathed, heart pounding in his chest, not quite believing that he'd hear his voice any second now.
Stranger: "Hello." James said after a pause, voice scratchy from the cold air where he was. He cleared his throat and spoke again, "Sorry I haven't called."
You: "No, that's, that's alright... Tell me you're okay, please, tell me you're fine." Now that he was speaking to him, he almost started to worry that he was calling him from some hospital bed, unable to make it back for the time being. And if there was anything he wanted, it was to have him back with him again. "When are you coming home?"
Stranger: "I'm fine Tiago." James assured him, "Tired but fine." He smiled a little to himself, twisting the curly phone cord around his finger. "They're sending me home tomorrow morning, but I'll be at M16 for some time."
You: "Good..." For a little while he just listened to James breathing on the other end, assuring himself that he'd gotten out alive. That's when another thing hit him. "Right, MI6... they don't know you'll be leaving, right? Think they'll let you go without too much trouble? They'll want to know why you've decided to leave... know what you're going to tell them yet?"
Stranger: "I'll tell them I shouldn't be there in the first place. That my tests were a sham, and I'm in too much pain to continue." He quoted from his mind, words practiced. True words as he felt the ache through his back.
You: "Yeah, that sounds good," he answered, although painfully aware that there must be some truth to it - he, too, still suffered from various old injuries, so he knew what James was talking about. "And after that you'll come home... you'll let me take care of you, and we'll catch up on time together the next few days, and after that we'll see... god I've missed you so much, James. I can't wait to see you again."
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.
You: He wrecked his brain, trying to come up with an intelligent answer, but the alcohol was still making it rather hard to think. "Ah," he said, biting his lip, "that would be, uh... well, I wanted to matter. To have my skills be used for a greater good. I found I had no future in the navy. Wasn't where I belonged. So I figured I'd try my luck here."
Stranger: "I see," he gave a nod. This answer was evidently one which was under the influence of the alcohol, though he supposed that it was close to what his sober answer would be. "That's all, then? No other influences, anything of the like?"
You: James was silent for a little while, figuring there was probably something else, but he couldn't come up with anything. Then he shrugged. "Does it really matter? I'm in now." He longingly stared at the glass so close near Tiago's lips before tearing away his gaze again, looking out the window. "No matter what happened today... I do intend to give this job my all, you know. I may have said some stupid things but you'll have to bear with me; I can be rather stupid sometimes. A little rash. Hotheaded. That's me."
Stranger: "You are correct there, I suppose. Once you're in, there's no easy way out of it all, really. And no need to worry about that," Tiago gave a good-natured chuckle, giving a slight shake if his head. "We all have our faults, our vices, and the like. It's just something that we must get used to, and they can certainly be used to our advantage, if used correctly."
You: He allowed himself to chuckle, too. "I suppose not today, though," he said. "I'm sorry you have to see all this. I promise it only gets out when I'm drunk. I'm usually not so fond of the whole talking thing." He wanted to curse himself, but vaguely remembered that Tiago had already reassured him quite a few times that it was alright, that he wouldn't hold it over him. Maybe he should just try and take the initiative back and make sure his last impression for the day would be a - as far as possible - good one. "If you're done with that drink you might consider going," he said, nodding at him, the words a little hesitant on his tongue because he really didn't want him to leave. "I'll go take a shower and go to bed. I'll see you at work in the morning."
Stranger: "Of course, of course," he agreed, finishing off the rest of his drink and getting to his feet. "I should probably be off to sleep, anyway, for it's going to be quite an interesting day of training tomorrow. Rest would be a good idea. I just hope that you'll be alright at work, for the training's going to be rather vigorous and the like."
You: James grimaced, getting to his feet - a little easier than before, but his footing not quite as stable as usual. He walked past Tiago and gestured for him to follow him, opening to door to the hallway. He leaned against the frame, watching him. "Yeah, I'll be good in the morning," he nodded. "Either way, for what it's worth... I had a good time tonight."
Stranger: "As did I. I'm quite pleased that you decided to come along, James, for I would've had no one to take to if you hadn't," Tiago smiled, placing the glass on the counter and heading towards the door, turning about once he was in the corridor. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."
"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.
Stranger: "There are stories, are there?" Tiago raised a brow, looking at James curiously, wondering what it was the other was speaking of. "I've never heard any stories myself, actually. Would you mind sharing a few, for I can't quite provide verification unless I know what they are?"
You: "Oh come now, you can't not know what I'm talking about. You know." James gestured with his hands, still holding his drink. "You're M's favorite. That I know for sure. One of the most promising 00s. Everyone likes you. Though if you ask me..." He leaned close to Tiago's ear and was by now almost whispering amusedly, telling him, "Though that may be because they seem very interested in sleeping with you... or maybe already did so. Could go either way." He leaned back, emptying his glass, smirking at the other agent. "Like I said. They seem quite fond of you."
Stranger: "I'm afraid that I've not heard much of any of these stories, James," chuckling as the other leaned in close and began to whisper, the Spaniard gave a slight shake of his head. "Though I cannot deny the second part of that, to be honest. There are a few of them who've made quite the effort to get me into bed with them, though they've all been unsuccessful. Much to their dismay."
You: "Oh?" James frowned, actually surprised by this. "They're not true?" He studied him for a bit, tapping on the bar in his musings before signaling the bartender to fill him up again. "One can only wonder why you'd refuse their efforts. Not mixing business and pleasure, then?"
Stranger: "No, they're not," Tiago gave another shake of his head, watching as James ordered yet another drink. Perhaps it would be wise to stop the younger man some time soon. "That's correct. I tend to avoid mixing business and pleasure, for one tends to interfere with the other, especially in this line of work."
You: "Hm, probably for the best," James shrugged, though not at all convinced of his own words. He wouldn't do well to disagree with Tiago yet again. By now the effects of the alcohol were really starting to kick in, but he couldn't care less; he knew he'd still be very capable of showing up for work tomorrow and hold it together, so he might as well enjoy this drink - or maybe another one after this. There was still a bit of tension pent up in his body over finally starting his job at MI6, and the awkward initial meeting with Tiago, so that now that they were in a bar and he had an opportunity to really relax, he was sure to take it. He had to be careful not to let it show though; the other agent might get an even worse impression of him if he let the booze influence his judgments.
Stranger: "Certainly," Tiago agreed, folding his hands on the bar, thinking it better not to order another drink for himself. He wanted to be fully alert tomorrow, seeing as he himself would be training the younger man in self-defense and general fighting. "There have been those in the past who have allowed pleasure to take too much of a hold on them, and they ended up dead or wounded as a result. Or tortured, for that matter. There is one man in particular who has proved difficult to catch, and has the tendency to get hold of those who partake in the pleasure of gambling."
You: James looked at him, finger drawing circles on the cool glass placed in front of him. "Speaking from experience, there? This also something to do with you paying for your mistakes early on?" He took another sip and felt a small shiver course through his body, the warmth taking hold of his insides. Maybe he /had/ reached his limit... no harm in finishing this last drink though. Not like anything could happen; the pleasurable sensations coursing through him were nothing but a minute distraction.
Stranger: After a moment or two, a slight grimace made its way onto Tiago's face as the Spaniard gave an affirmative gesture. "A bit of my own experience, yes, though that was of course before I was a Double-oh. Others, however, despite their rank, have also learned the same lesson, and it was learned more often than not at the hands of the same man."
You: "So who is he, then?" James inquired, getting a little intrigued. If this man was capable of getting the better of MI6's most promising agent, as well as several others, he must be truly dangerous indeed. "What does he do?"
Stranger: "He goes by a variety of names, honestly, one of them being Herr Nummer, though he is more commonly referred to as Le Chiffre. He's..." pausing, Tiago tried to think of the best phrasing to explain this man. "He's an accountant for the terrorists, you could say. Rather young and quite brilliant, he's well versed in poker, and tends to draw agents in quite easily. When he doesn't get what he wants in a game in which an MI6 agent is playing, meaning he doesn't win, he tends to resort to torture, particularly when his clients are in need of urgent money."
You: "Sounds like a dangerous game of poker," James thought aloud, drink resting forgotten on the counter. "I'm quite fond of the game, actually. Though it's gotten me into trouble before. Nothing like this, of course - but there have been times when others didn't take too kindly to me returning with all the winnings. I don't suppose I've run into him, then; had to fight my way out a few times, but never anything as serious as torture... sounds like a wackjob of a guy though."
Stranger: "He certainly is, yes," Tiago agreed emphatically with this, wincing a bit at the thought of Le Chiffre's preferred method of torture. "His way of torture is a bit unconventional, too, I may add. Rather painful at that, though I suppose it does serve the purpose he wishes it to."
You: "Does it matter /how/ he tortures you?" James mulled. "Should all hurt like hell, right..." He'd taken notice of Tiago's reaction though. "So you've really fallen victim to him, then. How did you get out alive?"
Stranger: "It's not a matter of escaping alive, for he doesn't torture to kill. He tortures merely to cause pain, and that's all. He will release you alive, if he sees fit, though we've never been able to get him, for all those he releases in various stages of unconsciousness can never give the location of torture."
You: James pondered for a bit. He knew he'd soon be subjected to an extensive torture resistance training, but for all the pain he'd already endured in his life, he wondered if he'd be able to withstand actual torture that was meant to hurt him beyond any pain he'd ever imagined. "Guess I'll make sure not to seek him out," he mumbled, subconsciously tapping his fingers on the bar again in thought. "Doesn't sound like I want to end up like that."
Stranger: "Yes, that would certainly be wise, particularly if you'd like your testicles to remain unharmed," he winced a bit again, lacing his fingers together on the bar. "I wouldn't imagine you'd prefer otherwise, though, James. Most men wouldn't."
You: He'd laugh, were it not for the seriousness of the conversation. "Seriously?" he gaped. "That's... that's inhuman. What kind of person..." He involuntarily shuddered, placing a hand on the inside of his own thigh as though he felt physical pain in his lower regions. "You're supposed to train your agents, not scare them off. Jesus Christ. I'm all for a little rough play, but actual /torture/ down there... I'd probably give him everything he wanted to make him stop."
Stranger: Tiago nodded, his face contorted into a grimace as he recalled his own torture at the hands of the man. "He certainly knows how to cause a good deal of pain without causing death, you know. As for the story, it's more of a word of warning, to avoid him if all possible. He is indeed a horrid blood-weeping bastard, yes, though one must not give in to his demands. Never. Not one of us has, even those who had...lost part of themselves to his blade."
You: James shook his head, not wanting to listen to any more horror-filled details. "Christ," he repeated, "this was not in the job description... are there agents actively looking for him right now? Any chance of bringing him in soon? I'm almost tempted to pick up programming, get myself stuck in here too... if I ever come across him... you better prepare me real well for that." He put his drink to his lips again, but before he took a sip, put it resolutely back down and stared Tiago straight in the face. "You've been /tortured/," he said, both impressed and horrified, realization hitting him just now.
Stranger: "There are people out looking for him at the moment, yes, though he's extremely evasive. And no," he shook his head emphatically. "I am not to do anything to you that would prepare you for that, for that would be absolutely horrid of me. I'd not put you through that, James." Pausing, Tiago gazed back at James, listening as the other came to his sort of revelation, and a horrified one at that. "I have been, yes, and I certainly recommend that you avoid it."
You: James didn't know whether or not that statement made him feel better about his upcoming resistance training. On one hand, Tiago was right in that it would be an awful experience to share together; on the other hand, James would more readily put his health and sanity in /his/ hands than in some specialized MI6 employee's. "I doubt I'll have much chance going an entire MI6 career without falling victim to /some/ form of torture, though," he sighed, returning his attention to his glass again.
Stranger: "That's true, though I think the certain type I myself have experienced is certainly different than what one would typically suffer."
You: "Can we just... please stop talking about this? This can't be comfortable for you, too," James murmured, still looking away from him. "The last thing I'd want to do is make you relive that. Just going through it once seems more than enough." It took him every ounce of willpower to not just throw back the almost full glass in an attempt to drown out the terrifying images in his head.
Stranger: "Ah. Right. My apologies, James, and certainly," Tiago shook himself from his own thoughts, from his recollections of his torture at the hands of Le Chiffre. "I do rather tend to get pulled back into the experience whenever I think of it, even against my own will."
You: "So how do you do it then?" He fixed his gaze on him again. "You got back to work to continue putting your life on the line. Even got yourself promoted. After going through all that? If that doesn't turn you off the job, what possibly could..."
Stranger: "I was determined to continue on, to get myself to a Double-oh status, and to serve the British government despite the treatment I had been subjected to," he paused, taking a slight breath before going on. "Nothing can turn me away, frankly, for this job is all I have. If I leave, I've got nothing, so I'm best to stay where I am."
You: "Must be lonely..." James fingers played with his glass again. "So you've got no one? No one worth it to give up this life for? I mean don't get me wrong, I get it, wouldn't be here if I didn't... but still... almost makes me wish it wouldn't have to be this way. That we could have a real life that isn't part of the job. Someone to come home to..." Ah, there was the booze speaking. He'd almost forgotten he was close to being very much intoxicated. He should probably stop talking now. Or stop drinking. But with the amount of scotch still left in his glass, he figured he'd go for the first option. And so he just shut up, casting a glance at Tiago every now and then as he refocused on his drink.
Stranger: "Sadly, no," he shook his head, tapping his fingers on the bar absently, fixing his gaze on the wall. "My family is dead, and I've never been able to take up a relationship since joining the agency. It endangers the other far too much, for once you join MI6, you take up the enemies of Britain. Including Le Chiffre. Typically, any agent tries to avoid placing other's lives in danger for their own happiness. One thing you must know is it's Queen and Country before anything else, the safety of the citizens before one's own well-being."
You: He felt a little sad for the other man, ignoring the fact that he wasn't much better off. James knew that when he signed up he gave up all possibilities of having a normal life, to find love, get settled. His needs were usually fulfilled on late nights prowling the night venues of London, but still, that was a rare bit of normalcy found in the life of an agent. He wondered how Tiago got by, if he contained himself around the office. Oh, what was he even thinking... it wasn't unusual for his thoughts to go in the direction of sex when he'd gotten a few drinks in him, but fact was that he was feeling rather peculiar right now. Especially now that he was looking at a man so absorbed in his current life, dedicated to serving others, having no one to look after him. Yeah, alright. Definitely time to stop drinking now.
Stranger: "But," Tiago added, making an attempt to sound a bit brighter than he felt, for the mention of his lack of love rather did dampen his spirits. "I suppose one could say that MI6 is one's home, and that the country is one's love, yes? Well, from the view of dedication to one's job, at least." Bloody hell, that did sound idiotic, and a bit over-patriotic at that.
You: "Hmm." James didn't direct his gaze away from him this time. "Considering what we'd do for it, yes... but it's rather selfish in that it never gives anything back. We protect England, but who protects us? It's a noble job... but we just keep on giving, and we get nothing in return, and once we can't give anymore we are no longer useful. But I guess that just comes with the job..."
Stranger: "You're quite right. As I said, one's well being is of no concern as long as Queen and Country remains safe, and as long as the citizens of Britain can remain safe," he shrugged, giving a bit of an apologetic look to James. "Eso si que es."
You: "Still... doesn't mean one shouldn't try to have some fun in life," James said nonchalantly, deciding that it would be a shame to let the rest of his drink go to waste. "MI6 probably couldn't care less what I do outside of work hours. Let's say, if I were to take someone home tonight," he cast a glance around the venue, "as long as I'd be more than able going into work tomorrow, that shouldn't be a problem, right?" His gaze lingered on a very attractive, rather tall brunette, laughing with her friends.
Stranger: "I'm hoping that you decide to heed my previous warning, James," Tiago lowered his voice, following the other's gaze momentarily to the woman. "Anything at all can put the other in danger, even a mere one night stand, as one would call it. It immediately opens up the other as a target for anyone aiming to hurt either the agent in question or the agency as a whole."
You: "You're no fun," James waved aside his reprimand, downing his drink. "As if someone would really go after someone I've only spent the night with. Would be rather petty, don't you think? If these criminals are so crafty and intelligent, would they really risk exposure over killing random women?" He felt a little offended that Tiago was telling him that part of the job meant he couldn't even /sleep around/ anymore. As though it was determined to take every single one of life's pleasures away from him. "Then what do you even /do/ to relieve yourself?" he asked, brow quirked, not at all caring that it was a rather personal question.
Stranger: "James!" Tiago spoke sharply now, his voice becoming hard and businesslike. "These people, ones like Le Chiffre, are out to get us, to get at the country any way they can. They'll go for anyone, even someone who you've been with for only one night. You know why? Because it's a way to get to you, if you leave a trail of dead in your wake, all for one night of pleasure," his jaw tightened, frustrated that this didn't seem to be getting through to the younger man. "And I find that that is rather personal, yes?"
You: He sulked, turning the empty glass around again and again. "Fine, fine," he groaned. "I get it, alright. This job is supposed to destroy my life. I get it. As long as it benefits MI6, right. Christ, what did I get myself into. Not only do I have to watch my balls as I go head to head with villains, I have to watch them around here, too." He was feeling rather dizzy right now, the alcohol having overtaken most of his self-control. He found it best to just keep sitting still on his stool, his arms now placed on the bar, hands holding his head. "Sounds so serious when you say it like that."
Stranger: "It's not a job to be taken lightly, for we are the protectors of Britain, of Queen and Country. If we fail, everything goes to hell, and it will be our faults," Tiago responded, focusing his gaze on James, watching as the other held his head in his hands. "So it does sound serious, yes.
You: "Yes, good," he mumbled, suddenly feeling rather sleepy. "Jesus, maybe I should get going before I start spouting more nonsense. Think I drank just a little too much. Great way to end this day. Great way." He started counting bills but decided that he'd better be on the safe side and threw down what would certainly be more than enough before heaving himself upright and, after steadying himself, gripped Tiago's shoulder, saying, a slight slur in his voice, "I think I'll be going home now. I'll... I'll see you tomorrow."
Stranger: "Right," watching the agent in training get to his feet, Tiago noted the way that he swayed a bit, also hearing how his speech was slurred, the words blending together a bit. "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..."
You: He couldn't help but laugh. "Or get hit by a cab. That... that would be rather unfortunate." He couldn't suppress what sounded like a giggle as he held onto Tiago, fingers still firmly digging into his shoulder. "Yeah, maybe you should. Ha... do I get to take someone home after all."
Stranger: "Indeed," placing his arm around James' shoulders, Tiago began the process of leading the other out of the pub, going into the street to summon a cab. "We'll be taking a cab nonetheless, and I'll see you to your front door. Just be sure that you remember to come to work tomorrow, yes?"
You: "I'll be fine tomorrow," James nodded reassuringly. "In fact, I'm feeling fine right now. Just a little... little tired." He yawned, though not unaware of the warm, comforting feeling of Tiago's arm around his shoulders, and thought it was a complete and utter shame that one, he was close to being wasted, and two, Tiago had made the rules on sleeping around pretty clear. He had just about enough sense left in him to not try anything funny, but only barely.
Stranger: Hailing a cab, the Spaniard pulled open the door, helping James inside before climbing in himself. After a moment or two of drunken laughing, he managed to get James' address, giving it to the driver and leaning back in the seat as the cab took off. He certainly couldn't wait to go home, for sleep was certainly in order.
You: James glanced over at Tiago from his seat in the car, just a little jealous that he'd been able to keep himself together so well. Well, if one had enough control over himself to survive torture, surely he was able to quit drinking when he knew he'd reached his limit, he figured, but still. He fought to keep awake, knowing that his place wasn't too far from here, and he'd be damned if his first day at MI6 would end with his mentor carrying his passed out drunken ass home. Well - not that they weren't close to that already, but better not let it get that far. Then he felt the car slow down and he recognized his apartment complex, so he reached over to unlock the door - not quite succeeding in his current state.
Stranger: "Ah, one moment, James," handing a few notes to the driver before getting out of the cab, Tiago hurried off to the other side, opening the door and helping him to his feet, promptly closing the door as soon as he had done so. Assisting a rather tipsy James to the front door of the complex, the Spaniard got him inside the lobby, getting him to the proper door as soon as he had managed to get the number out of the younger man. "Should you be alright at this point?"
You: "Tiago, I've never felt better in my entire life," James smirked, looking at him, although he still felt it was a little too much effort to keep standing on his own. He took out his keys and held them in front of his face, trying to decide which key would be the one to his apartment, then shrugged and randomly inserted one - with some effort - into the door, which to his surprised opened immediately. "How about that," he laughed.
Stranger: "You may find that you feel a bit different tomorrow morning, honestly," watching as James fumbled with the keys, Tiago raised an eyebrow, rather surprised as the door actually opened. He hadn't expected that, really. "Well, I'd say this is where I bid you farewell. I'll see you tomorrow, James."
You: "Sure you don't want to come in for a drink?" James leaned against the doorway, now not leaning on Tiago for support, although still holding a grip on his arm. "You've gone through all the trouble of coming up here... I promise I won't take another sip. Really. I'll go straight to bed afterwards." He squeezed his arm a little. "Come on. It'll be fun. Please?" He was suddenly very reluctant to be left alone in his apartment, knowing all he had to look forward to was a long, hard work at day tomorrow - and Tiago had been right, he'd probably regret those drinks first thing in the morning. But for now he just didn't want him to leave; despite some stupid things he'd said he'd really come to enjoy his company. It felt good to be around him.
Stranger: After a moment or two of deliberation, Tiago finally gave a slight nod. He supposed that there wasn't to be any harm in having a bit to drink at James', for he had hardly had anything at the bar, and he wasn't to be driving home anyway. He didn't even own a car, actually, so it's not as though he ever had to worry about that. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt. Lead the way, then?"
You: He slightly raised his eyebrows in surprise, not having thought he might actually go for it, but a warm anticipation over a continued night together soon washed over him. He let go of Tiago at this, hoping he wouldn't fall over his own two feet in the process - yet apparently having gone without alcohol for the past time was slightly increasing his chances of not making a fool out of himself. He told Tiago to make himself at home as he flicked on a light, finding his way to a table in the living room that held various bottles, pouring him a glass of the finest booze he had. "There you go," he smiled as he came back over to him, before settling himself down in a very comfortable chair. Suddenly his tiredness was gone and he felt like doing things, but he promised he wouldn't drink and that he'd go to bed after, so for the time being he'd behave.
Stranger: Following the other into the flat, which was truly rather a nice place, Tiago waited for James to return with the glass, then accepting it and taking a seat opposite him. "Why thank you, James," taking a sip, he fixed his eyes on the man opposite, watching him carefully for a moment. He did seem a good deal intoxicated, yes, though he seemed to be handling himself well enough. Though how was it that he would fare tomorrow during training, particularly seeing as it was to be a difficult day of fighting?
You: "Anytime," he nodded, watching the sight of his mentor in his home. It felt a little odd, this domestic setting; the only company he'd ever had over were people who didn't leave until hours later. He knew Tiago would be going after that one glass, probably only having accepted out of pity for his drunken pleadings. He didn't even take notice of his concerned look; not one thought about tomorrow crossing his mind. Only here and now mattered, and he was still enjoying the happy feelings that the booze had brought him back at the bar. He looked at Tiago and smirked at him.
"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.
You:He impatiently tapped his fingers on his desk, glancing at the clock again. If the new recruit didn't arrive /very/ quickly, he'd be late. Only a few more minutes until he'd have a legitimate excuse to put down his role as a mentor. He was most definitely not looking forward to this, but M had insisted, appealing to his ego that he was the best they had and that only the best would do for this promising new agent. In the end he'd given in, not wanting to make a bad impression now that he'd finally become a 00, but he hoped to God that this so-called Bond would be worth his time.
Stranger: He'd been reduced to jogging through the Vuaxhall building, heels clicking against the tile as he rushed past Garrison employees, ignoring the odd looks and noises of disapproval. The sodding tube had been eighteen minutes behind schedule, and the Quartermaster had taken his time. The lifts had a que as he rounded the corner to them, growling with irritation. He pushed past the waiting suits and took the stairs, slightly winded by the time he reached the doorway to Silva's office. He cleared his throat and straightened his cuffs. "Bond reporting."
You: "About time," he said, frowning as he glanced from the clock to the new agent. "You barely made it, but I expect you to not leave me waiting the next time you are to come in." He looked him up and down, noting his hurried state. "You seem a little out of breath. What happened, you walk all the way over here? I do believe you have a good excuse for being this late, hm?"
Stranger: His eyes flicked to the clock and back, "Twenty-six seconds shy of a 'late' status." He angled his jaw up, smoothing his tie down. "Your complaints would be better addressed to the London Transit Authority," he said as he slid an easy hand into his pocket, keeping his eyes fixed on the man M had assigned him to shadow.
You: He laughed. "Oh, you're one of those, hm. Well, alright then. You do seem to have made an effort to get here in time. I can appreciate that." He got up from his seat, walking around his desk and extending his hand. "Nice to meet you, James."
Stranger: He took it, giving a firm shake before sliding his hand back into his pocket. "M is rather fond of you," he said easily, sweeping his eyes across the office, "You've quite the record."
You: Tiago mentally complimented James on his strong grip, noting that it matched his confident stature. "Ah, she's told you a little bit about me, hm? And yet you've agreed to take me on as your mentor? I am intrigued." He leaned back against his desk, folding his hands in front of him. "You don't seem like the average rookie that normally comes through these doors, James." He tilted his head to the side, studying the man opposite him. It didn't seem like he was acting arrogant for no reason; it appeared to be his default state, and Tiago had no doubt he'd have the skills to back it up.
Stranger: He took the seat opposite Silva, his posture erect as touched the tips of his fingers together, elbows propped on the armrests. "Forty six confirmed hand-to-hand kills, twenty-six for twenty-six completed missions, fifteen live captures and successful intel from the Chinese in the last eighteen months," he rattled off steadily, "I would be a fool to pass up the opportunity."
You: He couldn't contain the smile that appeared on his face. Oh, Bond was /definitely/ worth his time. "Yes, you would've been," he agreed, nodding. "I'm so very glad you didn't, though; you and I both know that a very promising career in MI6 lies ahead of you. And who else better to guide you along that path than me, hm. I doubt I could teach you much when it comes to required skills, but I'll see what I can do."
Stranger: Bond gave him a tight nod, letting his hands fall to his lap as he let his gaze linger around the man's office. "I'd be grateful, to say the least. Chumped-up police work is getting tedious." He said with a frown, thinking back on his most recent assignment. His fingers twitched and he looked back to the man.
You: "Ah. Yes, I can only agree," Tiago nodded. "I have to say, I was a little... /reluctant/ to take this position, for I, too, prefer going out into the field... but it is as it is, no? I'm glad every word about you seems to hold up. I wouldn't have settled for any less, mind you. I'd hate to let my skills go to waste."
Stranger: He smirked at the man then, blue eyes snapping to hold the steady gaze of brown. "Always glad to oblige. Do tell M to add a gold star to my record, will you? She's about ready to feed me to the wolves, I'm afraid," he said with a half-smile, eyes glinting.
You: He snorted. "Yeah, she says that a lot," he said absentmindedly. "But if it helps - just over two years ago she told me I'd never get anywhere and the only reason she'd ever make me a 00 would be if I became twice as useless as I was then. Ah, memories... now look at me. Supervising you. It's funny how things work out. I'll be sure to put in a good word for you if I feel like you've earned it. Up until now it's been all talk, yes?"
Stranger: "Disappointingly so," Bond agreed, leaning forward in his chair. "Have something?"
You: "So glad you asked." He stood upright and walked towards the door, beckoning for James to follow him. "Mind you, there are just some mindless basic tasks that will have to be fulfilled, no exceptions for anyone, I'm afraid."
Stranger: James rose without a word, easily falling into step beside Silva. The man was well built of course, roughly James own height. He moved smoothly, his suit tailored expertly, making him feel the slightest bit under dressed in his off-the-rack fittings.
You: Tiago had been instructed to let Bond pass through the physical tests first, and so he led him to the MI6 gym facilities. Tanner stood there waiting for them, clipboard in hand, nodding as he acknowledged the 00 agent, James in tow. "So this is him?" he quietly asked Tiago, who smiled in response. "The one and only. Now, let's get started, yes? James, this is where I hand you off. Mr Tanner here will take good care of you."
Stranger: He gave a tight nod, stepping forward to accept Tanner's hand. "Let's get this done," he said with a faint smile.
You: Tiago retreated to the sidelines, watching James as he went to carry out these silly exercises. It was a formality, really; it wasn't like they would've let him into MI6 if they'd had any doubt about his physical abilities. But still, they were here, they had to do this - and so they would be doing this. He was glad this was on Tanner, though; Tiago could only take so much boredom.
Stranger: He ran the veritable hamster wheel, going through the motions tethered to wires as they put his body to the test. The event left him sweating and bored, to be honest.
You: It didn't take too long before it was all done, but Tiago had somehow almost managed to fall asleep - he just wasn't made for sitting and watching. Well, one could argue that, considering his side specialty of hacking - but at least /that/ could be as thrilling and exciting as chasing suspects. Wordlessly he'd gestured for James to follow him again after Tanner had given him the OK. He was supposed to take him to his psych tests now but really; he's probably had them days before joining MI6, too. There really was no point, they might as well call it a day. "So James," he asked him as they stood outside, "Do you feel like paying a visit to our local shrink? Or would you like for me to just sign off on whatever papers need to be signed and get out of here?"
Stranger: "I love the Queen and sleep just fine at night, your signature would be appreciated," he replied, glad to be once more in fresh clothing.
You: He laughed. "Good answer. Just wait here, okay? Just... wait... here." He scuttled away, rounding a few corners until he was where James was /supposed/ to be, and kindly but determinedly explained to the shrink that he'd already assessed that James was fit for duty - waving away any remarks that aside from being a hacker and an agent, he couldn't possibly also be a psychologist. He didn't mention to him that he saw a reflection of himself in James; the reason that he'd decided giving James a pass on this one being that if he turned out to be MI6's best agent, so could he. Besides, if push came to shove and the shrink went to M, there was really nothing she could do - she'd promoted him to the 00 ranks and then forced him to take on a rookie, knowing full well that this was likely to happen.
After all was done he came back to James, clasping his hands behind his back, rocking backwards and forwards on his feet. "Well, that's settled, all's done," he said, smiling at him. "Now I don't know about you, but I think I've deserved a drink after this day, hm? Nothing more exhausting than watching a man go through all these tedious assignments..." He winked at him.
Stranger: James barked a laugh to the ceiling, taking note of the man's easy slide into casual boredom. He looked anything but an agent, so at ease with his movements. The deception was genius. Silva was an actor, a dangerous one at that. He flashed the man a grin, dipping his head in agreement. "I rather think so, yes. Have something in mind?"
You: "Oh, I didn't realize you were planning on joining me," Tiago said in mock surprise - it couldn't have failed James that he'd been asking him along, their day together far from over. And it most certainly hadn't; for James had invited himself - or so it seemed. "But if you insist, I know this great little place, not far from here." He may indeed not be a qualified psychologist, but he was very interested in picking James' brain over a drink, wondering what went on beneath that hard exterior.
Stranger: "I insist," he agreed with an easy smile, cataloging the man's reaction with rapt attention. This was going to be an interesting tenure indeed. "The closer the better. Ready?"
You: "Well then!" Tiago turned on his heel, heading for the exit, figuring they just as well might walk over there. It was only a few blocks away; he usually frequented the place after an especially long hard day at work. It was one of the first times ever he'd invited someone over, though. He liked to keep this little secret to himself, but he felt James was somehow worthy of being introduced to that little part of his life. He recognized something of himself in him; figured he might use it to get a little closer, figure out the person behind the agent.
Stranger: He fell in step absently as they moved through the halls of MI6. He noted the interesting mix of reactions to his mentor. Some giving an open, honest smile as their eyes fell to him, others scowling, some passively ignoring him. Spotty history with the agency, then. He'd garnered friends and turned some wary along the way. The sun had already set by the time they pushed out into the street, the London air tinged with a bite of coming frost. He pushed his hands into his pockets, settling into the silence as they walked.
You: Tiago hummed some old-fashioned tune quietly as they advanced through the streets, not in the least bit bothered by the silence. He was already planning out various questions to ask him, wondering what tactics would work best - James would undoubtedly know if he interrogated him, but he was /dying/ to know more about who he was. Or maybe he just shouldn't try too hard, he thought, entering the street where his favorite pub was located. Just see what would happen. "Here we are," he smiled as he stopped in front of it, turning and gesturing James inside.
Stranger: He smirked at Silva's choice, pushing open the familiar doors. He said nothing as he smiled at the bartender, moving to a booth he preferred at the back. The location gave them eyes on every possible entrance and exit, sat far enough away from the kitchens that it was quiet, and foot-traffic was low. He took a seat, unfastening the buttons of his suit coat as he settled in. "Nice place," he said with an easy smile, stretching an arm along the back of the booth.
You: Tiago stopped and stared at him for a little while, taking note of the smile plastered on his face. The bastard. "You could've said something," he sighed, settling himself down. "Though I must admit that you have good taste. Hm." He looked at him. "I do wonder how I've never run into you here. Because I'm fairly certain I would've remembered you if I did."
Stranger: James shrugged, raising a hand to the barkeep. "Been a while since I've been in, I suppose," he replied casually, eyes following the barman as he made his way to their table. He gestured for Silva to place his order first.
You: "Hm." Tiago hummed, his eyes still on the other man. Yes, he was absolutely /positive/ he would've remembered him, because this was one of his favorite places to prowl for company for the night. And if he'd ever seen James here, he certainly would've taken a shot at him. "The usual," he told the bartender, knowing what the look on his face probably read. He wasn't about to correct him though.
Stranger: "Triple whiskey, keep it dry," he said without taking his eyes off of Silva. When they were left alone once again, James took the opportunity to open. "You've an interesting mix of relationships at headquarters."
You: He chuckled. "I do, don't I. Yes, well, that happens. Some will respect your achievements, others will be jealous. Being the best comes at a price." He shrugged. "You'll see." He fell silent, awaiting the bartender to return with their drinks - when he did, he raised his glass to his lips, took a sip, then grinned and continued, "There's also - oh, maybe I shouldn't tell you that. It would be unbecoming of me."
Stranger: He quirked a brow and spread his hands, "Unbecoming often defines me, please continue." He kept his eyes on his mentor, sliding the pad of his thumb around the rim of his glass where it sat -untouched- on the table.
You: Tiago smirked, resting an elbow on the table between them, leaning forward to whisper, "Let's just say I didn't call all of them back after, as I promised..." He sunk back into his seat, grimacing. "Some did not take it well."
Stranger: It took several heartbeats for his meaning to sink in before James' eyes darted to Silva's lips and back. He cracked an honest smile, laughing as he rose his glass. "I see," he said jovially before throwing back the amber liquid. The empty tumbler clinked hollow on the table as he set it down.
You: He grinned, a little glad that he'd never run into him before, now; it would've made for an awkward first meeting if he had. He honestly seldom knew the names of those he went home with, so if he /had/ had the opportunity of coming along James, it wouldn't have factored into his decision of mentoring a certain James Bond by just hearing the name. He did, however, not miss the little glance he threw him; for a second thinking that /the night was still young/... but immediately set aside the idea, shaking his head at himself. As honest to god attractive he was, training him meant he'd prepare him to trust him with his life - he couldn't very well start off by ruining every chance he had at making this job a success by seducing him on the very first day.
Stranger: James tipped his hand in the air for another drink, relaxing slightly as the familiar warmth of his drink spread across his stomach, fanning out pleasantly along his limbs. "I've a deception to confess to," he said with a half-smile. He tapped his finger against the table as he forced himself to hold Silva's eye, "M was insisting on 002 for my training. I bullied her into you, instead." His face fell passive as he watched for the reaction, curious as to what the man would say.
You: He raised an eyebrow at the confession. "Oh? Right you are, of course, 002 couldn't possibly hold a candle to me... but what made you so certain I was the right man for the job?" His fingers played with his glass, turning it around and around on the table as he returned James' stare. This was rather odd. M had given him the impression that he'd been first in line for this task, she'd certainly told him so... had she manipulated him into accepting by saying it could only be him? Had /James/ actually manipulated her into doing that? He was confident he wasn't lying, so then why...
Stranger: "Your name at the top of her list. Perhaps she forgot I have the capacity to read, after all my field training," He nodded again as his drink was replaced. "Took me a while to work out why she scratched it off. Still working on that, actually, but I have theories. Double-oh two has a bland record among agents. He's good enough, but only just. You, on the other hand." He trailed his fingers down the damp sweat of the glass, limiting how much he was willing to say on the matter.
You: He just stared at him, fingers subconsciously stilling around the glass. "I would very much like to hear those theories," he said slowly, tilting his head a little to the side as he leaned forward, "but I'd be even more interested to hear why /you/ wanted /me/... this can't be just about my superior qualities, is it, James?"
Stranger: He didn't lean away, but it was a near thing. Silva had gone for the heart of it without preamble, catching him off guard. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Silva's face, silent far too long for casual conversation. His heart rate was up, he was sure. His hand began to tremble against the glass, which he snatched up with a little too much purpose, a bit of the liquid spilling over the edge. He downed the lot, exhaling after a burning swallow to still his nerves. "They stand alone, certainly," he evaded.
You: Tiago didn't move, only leaning back when James tried to steer his attention away from the subject at hand, a mocking expression on his face. He didn't say anything, however, just brought his drink to his lips and slowly, very slowly drank its contents, his eyes all the while trained on the other agent. When he finally set down the glass, waving carelessly for the bartender to bring him another, he placed both his elbows on the table and rested his face in his hands, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "Cut the crap, James."
Stranger: He kept his features carefully trained, cracking a half-smile at the agent. "Astute." he said as he carefully laced his hands together, sliding them closer to Silva on the table. He leaned in as though he was about to whisper secrets, ducking his head and turning his lips from the watchful eyes of others. "Bugger off, Silva." He gave him a tight nod, a broad smile on his face as his nerves hummed and his heart hammered against his ribs. That had been a very, /very/ near thing. He slid back against the booth and raised a brow.
You: "Hm." He wasn't impressed, not in the slightest, but also knew pushing the subject wasn't going to do him any favors. He wondered what his game was, wondered what he'd been so close to spilling - aside from his drink, which he found highly, /highly/ uncharacteristic of the usually so composed agent. The sudden decrease in distance between them had gotten to him, though; but he thought he was doing a rather good job at hiding it - for a second the air between them had seemed to spark with something, but even if he were to trust his intuition, he couldn't do anything about it. "Fine - don't tell me. I'll find out, sooner or later... maybe when I do you'll wish you /had/ told me, hm, save you the embarrassment of this coming back to bite you in the arse."
Stranger: "I'm rarely embarrassed, even when it may be warranted," he countered, noting the open disapproval. Time to change tactics. He adopted a playful smile, sliding his empty glass along the wood between his hands. "Perhaps it was your social reputation that gripped my attention," he said slyly, the thumbs of his hands still shaking as they had nothing to steady them between the slide of the glass.
You: He glanced down ever so briefly, the movement of James' hands distracting him; then looking up at him again to meet his gaze. It didn't mean the smile on his face was any less captivating though. Now it was getting interesting."Oh?" he murmured, accepting the drink handed to him without so much as looking up or thanking the guy who brought it over. "What about it?"
Stranger: "I like a man who writes his own rules," he said easily, tipping his head to the side very slightly in a subconscious effort to slow his heart rate. It was true, after all. Silva was on M's list, clearly in her preferred circle, only he cause havoc on a regular basis. He leaned back, the buzz humming warm and constant in his veins now. He deliberated before ordering another drink, cautious of his control. He fervently hoped Silva hadn't taken note of his absurd hands yet.
You: Huh. James seemed to settle down a bit, which didn't rhyme with his eccentric behavior earlier on. Tiago frowned, not sure he knew where this was going. He didn't like not being sure of something. "Of course you would, you do the same yourself, that's hardly new information... which causes me to wonder /why/ you keep dancing around the subject. You know, I wouldn't pay it any attention," he thought aloud, drinking from his - how many had it been already? - glass, noticing that James' was empty yet again - might that be a playing a part in this, too? - "were it not for the fact that you're making such an effort to make me believe it's nothing important." He downed his own drink, threw another glance at James, and then ordered two more drinks, figuring there was no way he was going home yet. With some luck, James would be staying, too. If only he could find a way to get that information out of him he so desired... he unknowingly sighed, knowing that if James was /anything/ like him, that could prove to be quite difficult.
Stranger: /Too obvious, James/ he chastised himself. Silva opened another round. James took a moment to collect himself, sweeping his eyes over the slowly growing crowd. He stretched his arm along the back of the booth again, hitching an ankle on top of his knee. He'd exposed too much already, whereas Silva was still the man he'd met in headquarters. He narrowed his eyes in thought, glancing at the man from the corner of his eye as he feigned distraction with some other patron that saddled up to the bar.
You: Tiago swallowed as James repositioned himself, his posture now open, inviting - had this been any other person, he'd by now have suggested to get out of here, that kind of body language universal for whatever was nagging at the back of his mind. He half cursed himself for ordering those drinks now, forgetting in the process of trying to get James to open up, he was also setting /himself/ up for possibly disclosing anything that was better left unsaid. As an MI6 agent he'd been trained to withstand the most gruesome of tortures, but it proved to be almost as hard to bite his tongue now that the booze was really getting to him. His eyes followed James' gaze and for a second he was about to ask him if that was his type, but he decided against it, fingers now tapping restlessly on the table next to his empty glass.
Stranger: "He's going to shoot his dick off, what an idiot," he said, voice low as he tipped his head toward the man at the bar, a weapon obviously tucked into the front of his trousers. He looked back to Silva, an easy smile on his face. "So you said 'yes' to M's request when she assured me you'd turn me down. What's that about?"
You: For a second he was completely clueless on what James was talking about; then he looked back and laughed. "If he does, he deserves it." He met his eyes again, blinking just to get him a /little/ more into focus, the fast movement of turning back catching up to him - maybe it was best if he left that last drink where it was. Then James started talking again and he willed his brain to resume thinking. "She likes painting a bad picture of me, so she can keep me all to herself," he murmured, voice low. "She was quite adamant about me taking my duties as a 00 seriously, so I can't imagine her steering away..." He fell silent. "I /can't imagine/," he repeated, slightly offended at this slipping by him. "Jesus Christ Bond I'm not that easy to manipulate, even if I've had a few drinks. It doesn't matter why I wanted you, what matters is why you wanted /me/. I think I may have mentioned that before."
Stranger: "Is this how you managed to woo the Chinese?" He said with a bit of a laugh, keeping his tone obviously humorous. "What matters is relative," he said before tipping his fourth -and final- drink back. "You were the one, so I made sure it happened."
You: He scoffed, slowly losing what little of his patience he had left. "I can assure you, this is most certainly /not/ the way I've seduced the Chinese, or /anyone/ for that matter. Trust me, you'd know if I -" That was more than enough, Tiago, he decided, not going to give him any ammo he could use against him once they were sober again. He knew damn well he couldn't ask James head-on what he was still hiding from him, but he couldn't think of a way to accidentally get him to admit to it - he still had far too good a handle on things. "It matters to /me/, you hear that?" he muttered, briefly glancing at him before looking away again. "But alright then. I'll stop asking. You know, I don't even care - you wanted me as a mentor, I begrudgingly accepted, and now here we are. Hm? Very simple. Not complicated at all."
Stranger: His eyes narrowed as Silva's easy demeanor tanked. /Well done,/ he thought. He set his jaw and looked sharply away as he said simply, "You are the most like me." The shaking of his hands was lost to him in his distraction.
You: Yeah, well, /that wasn't really news, either/, he thought, groaning just slightly in frustration. "And how /so/?" He asked yet again, shifting in his seat, feeling his knee bumping into James' as he slumped down, spinning the glass in his hands. He was really getting a little desperate now, about to threaten him that if he didn't tell him everything he hadn't told him before, he'd go to M and ask her to terminate his duties as a mentor.
Stranger: He swallowed thickly, noting how they now touched at the knee without moving away. He slid a shaking hand down his face, licking his lips before catching the lower one between his teeth. "You know what it is to be alone," he said slowly, refusing to meet Silva's eye.
You: He didn't acknowledge it, nor did he deny it - just wondered how the hell he recovered that information. It didn't matter though - at least not as much as the fact that he was now on the verge of finding out what he'd been so reluctant to confide in him. That - and his eyes had unwillingly been drawn towards his face, taking in the way his tongue darted along his lips. He waited for James to continue speaking, in the haze of booze suddenly thinking a bit more clearly, noticing all the little signs that indicated he was now finally speaking the truth.
Stranger: "And you know what it is to bleed," he said, packaging many meanings into a single sentence. He set his jaw and forced himself to look back at Silva, ready for the man to react in any number of ways.
You: "Hm." He blinked as James' eyes returned to rest on his, a little lost for words - maybe he wasn't sobering up after all. "I suppose so... but I fail to see the relevance of this. Just what are you getting at, exactly?" He shifted again, only slightly this time, becoming aware of their legs still touching - yet he didn't do anything to sever the contact, feeling that was the least of his concerns right now.
Stranger: "Which lends to the thought that you've figured out how to restrict yourself. You know how to keep yourself from burning it all to the ground," he rocked his head to the side as he spun his glass. "Gives me the idea you're...in control," he dropped the word heavily before bringing his eyes back to the man again.
You: His mouth dropped, but only slightly - though probably enough for James to have noticed. "Well..." he slowly said, drawing out the word as to buy himself some time, "...you're not wrong." He wasn't specifying about /what/ James hadn't been wrong, but figured it would be clear, under these circumstances. He wasn't even entirely sure he was interpreting this correctly, either; and it would be very, /very/ uncomfortable if he jumped the gun on this and totally misunderstood him.
Stranger: He gave him a tight nod, exhaling a shaking breath as he thought better of his drink limit and waved down the barkeep again. "Good," he said simply, running his tongue along his bottom lip again, sliding his foot forward where it rest against Silva's.
You: Oh, /shit/, he was saying what he thought he was saying... at once his initial attraction returned and hit him with full strength, overriding the alcohol still heavily coursing through his system. This was everything he had /not/ expected to happen, and for a second he thought he might have imagined it; but then his muscles tensed at the increased physical contact and he knew, /no/, he was most definitely /not/ imagining this. God, when he'd thought that maybe he could figure out what James was about, he wasn't expecting /this/. How very, /very/ fortunate though.
Stranger: James took the drink from the barkeep, never letting the full glass hit the table. He tossed it back in one go, forcing his breathing to remain even as Silva was silent. He let his eyes slide away from the man, tracing the lines of the table as he turned the glass upside down and pushed it away.
You: He couldn't hold back a smirk at his nervousness, despite his own very much racing heart. "Now now," he said, eying the glass, voice a little hoarser than he'd intended. "Be careful with that. You still need to get home..." Honestly, at this point he didn't even know why they didn't just pay and leave, but somehow he kept waiting for James to take the initiative. He was the one who started all this, after all. Part of him pondered ordering another drink, too; but he thought better of it - he was already inebriated enough as it was, and it wouldn't do any of them much good if neither of them could get to their feet later on.
Stranger: His eyes darted to the glass before returning to Silva with a shrug. "Home. Park bench. Alley. Matters very little to me."
You: That was /it/. If they were to have any chance to even get out of here without causing some sort of scene, they had to leave /now/. Tiago abruptly stood up, locking eyes with him to indicate his intentions, then set off towards the exit. Somewhere along the way he alerted the bartender to put it on his tab, though he was sure he'd already made sure of that - like he'd said, this was far from his first time here. Something about /this/ particular first time felt very exciting though, and as ice cold air hit his heated skin outside - however doing nothing to relieve him - he waited for James to join him.
Stranger: He noted the look just before the man rose, turning his back. He smirked and tossed a handful of bills on the table for his share, sliding his hands along his trousers to dry them before he rose himself, striding into the night air. He pulled in a deep breath, letting his eyes fall closed a moment before looking for Silva.
You: Something dark glinted in his eyes as he noticed him, still controlling every instinct to not just slam him against the wall for everyone to see - M wouldn't be amused if he'd managed to land himself in jail on similar charges as on previous occasions /again/. "So," he forced out, low voice thick with arousal, watching him from a little distance - his control would fade the second he was able to get his hands on him. "Where? Go back to my place?"
Stranger: James tipped his head just down the street. "I'm there. Last one on the right, if it's all the same to you."
You: Tiago would've agreed, had his voice not decided to stop functioning - instead he started walking, briskly, hands in his pockets clenched into fists - he couldn't see James from this angle, which was good - just the mere knowledge that he was right behind him, added to the fact that they were currently heading to his place - it was driving him crazy. He couldn't even be bothered to entertain the thought that he should /not/ be doing this, that this was exactly what he'd set out to prevent, but to fucking /hell/ with it all, he couldn't say no if he wanted to. Not anymore. Not now that he'd put the idea in his head.
Stranger: He followed the man, noting Silva's whipcord-tight posture as they moved through the dark street. His heart rate kicked up as the promise of a worthy fight made itself clear. Silva's record lent to a promising evening, an interview with several of his bedfellows making James' mouth water as he drew out the key and slipped it in the lock, stepping back for Silva to enter first. "Home sweet home," he said smoothly, hiding his shaking hands behind his back
You: He was amazed that James was even able to open the door in his current state, considering that he himself felt pretty riled up; then took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down a little - no good getting lost in the moment and forgetting it all the next morning. He walked inside, shrugging off his coat as he went, dropping it rather unceremoniously somewhere along the way, not caring where or how it ended up. He turned around, looking at James, /looking/ at him, for the first time since the pub, the first time since he'd made that incredible revelation.
Stranger: He stood casually in the dark entryway, backlit by a large window. One hand slipped into his pocket, the other hung easy at his side. He'd put his cards in Silva's hands. He waited to see what he would do, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation.
You: He didn't know whether he was surprised or not at this, James having somehow returned to the cool, collected agent that had walked into his office the very same day. Yet somehow it made all the difference in the world - it was the confident, even a little arrogant attitude that had gotten him interested in the first place, now coupled with all the endless possibilities that had been revealed to him just minutes ago. Was it because they were now at his place now? His rules? Either way, it was becoming too much, and he walked back over to him, closing in until the only way for James to move was back against the now closed door.
Stranger: He gave no ground as he met Silva's eye. "As I've said, control is an issue for me," he said, voice dripping with innuendo. "Where you've mastered it." he bit off the last word with a click of his teeth, waiting.
You: He smirked, coming to a still close, /very/ close to James. "Control is a tricky game..." he breathed, staring hard into those flashing blue eyes as he managed to keep his hands to himself. James was making it increasingly difficult though. "Are you sure you want to play?"
Stranger: He took the little ground that remained between them, holding his eye. "Very." he breathed.
You: "Well then," he exhaled, the desires threatening to overcome him, wondering how much longer he could stand it - if James had requested for him personally, with this very idea in mind, shouldn't that give him the upper hand, seeing as up until a few days ago he'd never even heard of him, let alone seen him? But James wasn't budging, and neither was he, and he was so close he could almost feel the heat radiating off of him, or maybe that was just his imagination, because it was getting too hot in here and his body was screaming for him to do something, anything, to relieve the pressure building up inside of him.
Stranger: James hitched an eyebrow at Silva's lack of reaction. He swallowed thickly before sliding a single hand up to unfasten the buttons of his suit coat, letting the material fall open to show the crisp oxford shirt beneath. He then tugged at the knot of his tie, loosening it from his neck before undoing the knot entirely, letting the ends of the thing simply lay draped over his chest. He dropped his hands back to his sides, waiting.
You: At this his mind shut off and he was no longer thinking about anything other than finishing what he'd started, reaching out and grabbing his shirt and pushing him roughly back against the door. For a second he hovered over him, breathing fast and ragged, but then he forcefully claimed his lips with his own, body flush to his.
Stranger: James growled low in his throat as his back hit the door. God he loved it when he could be with a man, violence was never a consideration. He kept still for several moments as Silva kissed him before pushing back off the door, struggling for dominance where he did not want it, testing the other man to see his follow-through.
You: A surprised smirk made its way to his face as he felt himself getting pushed back, this being highly new to him - usually when others requested his services they let him be in charge, unconditionally; but this, he hadn't expected this. He wasn't about to go down without a fight though, a wicked grin on his face as he look James in the eye. "So this is how you want to play it?" he said, panting, moving up his hand to rest on James' jaw, fingers strong and possessive. "Show me what you got, then."
Stranger: Oh and James was /hooked,/ damn the man. His jaw locked in a vice grip and a dare in his ear, he thrust his hand straight up under Silva's, dislodging his fingers as his other hand knocked flat into his chest -staggering the man back a pace as James advanced.
You: The smirk never fading from his face he watched as he came onto him while he regained his posture. He could either meet him halfway or wait until he got to where he was, and easily decided on the latter; it was his turn now, his turn to initiate, and he would be /very/ happy to reciprocate.
Stranger: He crowded the agent up against the wall, palms flat against the plaster on either side of Silva's head as he crashed their lips together, knee sliding forward to slip between the man's.
You: So /this/ was what it felt like to be the one being pushed against the wall, he vaguely noted amusedly. Well, couldn't say it was all that bad... there was something absolutely thrilling about James turning the tables on him like that; what had at first been hot anticipation over doing to him whatever he desired, had now rapidly grown into the excitement of not knowing what was about to happen. It didn't mean he wouldn't have any say in the matter though. This time his other hand shot up to grip his lower jaw, yanking his face away from him as he sought his neck, using lips and teeth to make sure he left at least a mark or two.
Stranger: James yielded, groaning low in his chest as Silva bullied him away and latched onto his neck none-to-gently. He curled his fingers in the material of Silva's shirt, roughly bunching the fabric as the feel of teeth on skin distracted him from the upper hand for the moment.
You: He hadn't believed it to be possible, but somehow the sound that escaped James managed to turn him on even /more/. In one swift movement he removed himself from the wall, using the momentum and the position of his hands to turn them both around, slamming James back where he'd stood before. His fingers had by now left his face, busying himself with the buttons on James' shirt, an impatient hiss escaping him as they didn't open as quickly as he'd liked.
Stranger: His fingers shot up to tangle in Silva's perfect hair, mussing it as his nails grazed against scalp. He tipped his head back against the wall, beyond aroused at Silva's expert recoup of the upper hand. His hips rolled forward against the air as his breathing stuttered in his chest.
You: /Interesting/, for now James seemed to be perfectly fine with being on the receiving end of things... he didn't even bother with the last buttons anymore, yanking open the shirt and finding his way back to James' lips, one hand slipping underneath the fabric, finding hot, sweaty skin as well as well-defined muscles. The other hand started working on his belt, a growl escaping him as he bit his lower lip, James' accepting behavior not at all slowing down his actions.
Stranger: He'd caught his breath -along with the need to be sure he'd put his faith in the right man- as Silva rumbled his disagreement with James' belt. He pulled away from the kiss as he snatched Silva's wrist at his trousers before wrenching it up and twisting, spinning the man as he placed a hand at his back, leaning over his shoulder to whisper, "I like this game," against his ear.
You: He couldn't get out more than a scoffing "Heh" at James' actions, cringing a little at the position his arm was twisted in - but not complaining, not at all. Although he was dreadfully missing the skin-on-skin contact they'd shared before, this appeared to be very promising, too - he gave a little struggle, knowing that it was pointless in the grip James held him in, but he knew it would convey his intentions nevertheless.
Stranger: "Oh, come now. Double-oh against a tactical agent? I shouldn't have a chance," he whispered, grazing his teeth along Silva's ear, daring him to make a move.
You: A shudder coursed through his body at the outrageous provocation alongside the teasing at his ear and for a moment it slipped his mind that he actually wasn't trying to /kill/ James - he cast a quick blow backwards with his free elbow, hitting James in his midriff, knocking the wind out of him - not enough to effectively paralyze him, but enough to weaken his grip. He turned and shoved him back up against the wall again, a hand around his throat, eyes shining with triumph. "What makes you think you did?" he chuckled darkly.
Stranger: His pupils blew wide as he was muscled back into submission, a wicked smile playing at his lips even as he struggled to breathe. That was more like it. He wrapped his hands around the wrist at his throat, struggling against the grip.
You: "Oh?" he taunted him. "Don't tell me you don't know how to get out of this, James... I'd be so disappointed if you couldn't." He moved closer to him, breath hot and thick on his ear as he continued, "you /have/ a chance, I suggest you take it..."
Stranger: /Damn the man,/ he thought as he suddenly lashed out, completely unable to resist a dare. His arm darted along Silva's until he caught the man just at the side of his neck, wrenching his body to the side as he slammed the man back, his foot sweeping in front of him to stagger Silva's footing. He put several paces between them as his eyes flashed with delight, enjoying the game more than he should he was sure. "Come on the /agent/," he taunted, dropping the register of his voice on the title, "Chances are the last thing I need" he sneered as he motioned for Silva to advance him -if he dared.
You: He was fairly sure he should be feeling pain at this point, but every feeling he experienced was mixed in with the others and none of them felt anything but good, and all he could do was move a hand through his hair, laughing, out of breath as he regained his composure. Tonight couldn't have taken a better turn. He watched James beckoning for him to come closer, knowing that that was exactly what he wanted - nevertheless he was unable to not give in. He lightly stepped forward, within his reach, body tensed and ready for action, awaiting his move.
Stranger: James waited, noting the way Silva laughed in apparent delight at their current situation, shirt hanging open haphazardly as his chest rose and fell with his wild breathing. Achingly aroused, hands at his side as he willed the man closer.
You: He walked up to him, all the way up to him without so much as reaching out, hands even /folded/ behind his back as he closed in on him. Some of his hair was by now sticking to his forehead, mingled with sweat, and he was sure his reflexes would be kicking in at any moment, but still he walked up to James without any attempt of starting another fight. His eyes were drawn towards his bare chest though, noticing the way it heaved, his hands twitching to pin him against the wall again - but he thought better of it, awaiting what James would do now that they were almost nose to nose.
Stranger: The hands clasped calmly behind Silva's back ripped some feral noise from James. He reached out and grabbed Silva's face in his hands, bringing their mouths together in a desperate kiss, a crash of lips and tongue and teeth as his body trembled.
You: Every last bit of resistance crumbling down he removed his hands from behind his back at last, but not to gain any sort of control over James this time - instead he leaned his forearms on the wall on either side of him to support himself, feeling that if he didn't, his knees would give way at the sheer ferocity of that one kiss. This kiss was a whole other battle in itself entirely, and though he was standing his ground as well as James was, it was still happening on the other agent's terms - and he just let it happen, pressing himself up against him, relishing the full-on contact between their bodies, extremely well aware of the way James responded to him.
Stranger: He slipped a hand up Silva's back, letting it come to rest at his neck while he fisted his hand in the material of Silva's shirt. He pulled the man flush against him, rolling his hips up as he groaned with the friction of it.
You: He thought maybe a slight moan escaped him as James pulled him even closer, but he wasn't sure; what he did know though was that his hand was traveling down again, resuming its previous work on James' belt, still holding himself steady against the wall with his other arm; the cool, rough texture slightly burning his skin, but he couldn't care less.
Stranger: He tore away from the kiss, tipping his head back to the wall to breathe as Silva's fingers traveled along his belt. "Fuck," he breathed, a rare explicative falling from his lips as his heart raced.
You: He could have cracked some wise-ass remark at that comment but it didn't even occur to him; fingers instead loosening the belt until it finally opened. His lips moved around James' jaw and sought and found his ear with his teeth as he pressed a leg in between his, fingers now returning to his own shirt, which felt like it was clinging to his own damp skin.
Stranger: James bat them away as he made swift work of Silva's shirt, pealing open the fabric as he rolled his hips against the man.
You: For everything that had happened so far he was actually the first to discard his shirt /entirely/, though it didn't cool him down in any way. He returned to his previous position, arms on either side of James, his slight height advantage very obvious like this. Closing his eyes he was breathing hard as James pressed into him, feeling that even in this position he still held some kind of power over him, a shiver pulsing through his body as all his senses were being stimulated, threatening to overcome him.
Stranger: James hissed lightly as Silva dropped his shirt and crowded back over him, nipping roughly at the man's jawline as their chests came together. He let the power-struggle hand between them for now, enjoying the feel of the other man looming over him, the tingle of memory at the man's hand wrapped around his throat.
You: Feeling James' naked torso against him was so very different now that there was no longer a barrier of any kind between them, his heart hammering so loudly in his chest that he was sure James must've been feeling it, too. One hand traced down to caress his chest, lower onto his abdomen, traveling dangerously close to yet unexplored territory. Meanwhile his lips returned to his neck again, trying to find that one spot that he was sure would make him gasp for breath, the fingers of his other hand clenched into a fist as his upper body glistened with sweat.
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?”
Stranger: Tiago paused, giving a nod in response. "Certainly! The more the merrier, yes?" straightening his jacket, the Spaniard headed off towards the door, gesturing for James to follow him. "Come on, then. I know of a place which should be populated at the moment, but not too much so."
You: James put his hands in his pockets, walking along behind him, wondering what his choice of venue would be. He half expected going to a place he'd been to before; the city was big, but James was very familiar with London at night. He wasn't planning on making it too late. Maybe a drink or two and then he'd go home, get some well-deserved rest for his second day at work, which would undoubtedly be tougher than his first.
Stranger: After walking for nearly a quarter of an hour in silence, Tiago halted in front of a green-painted door, pulling it open and holding it for James, revealing a darkened and relatively quiet interior. "After you, James," he gave a little nod of his head, gesturing for the younger to step inside.
You: James looked around, never having been here before. The place seemed nice though - he'd have preferred something a little more crowded, especially if they were going to talk MI6 business, but there was something about the ambiance that was rather appealing. He shuffled further inside, feeling Tiago in his back, the entrance rather narrow. After they entered, he stepped aside for the older agent to take the lead again.
Stranger: Slipping past James and heading deeper inside the place, Tiago arrived at the bar and took a seat, waiting for James to join him. As soon as the other had sat beside him, he glanced about in an attempt to locate the bartender, yet to no avail. "Somebody should arrive soon enough, I think. We just need to keep an eye out."
You: James smirked. "So this is a stake-out then? Still doesn't sound like 00 work to me, but I could be mistaken." Finally he was getting back to known territory. Bars and company; that was where his true specialties lay. Who knew, maybe it could come in handy sometime, if he was ever sent out in the field. "Say, while we're waiting... how long did it take you to get where you are now? Becoming a 00, I mean, not babysitting a rookie agent. God, I hope I never end up like that."
Stranger: "You could say it like that, yes," Tiago chuckled a bit, turning his attention to James for the time being. "Oh, I wouldn't call this babysitting. The reason that I'm not out in the field, actually, is due to my ability with computer systems, as well as the demand for those who know their away around them. And, since I was a Double-oh who is currently grounded in London, I've gotten the opportunity to train you. But..." he paused, thinking over the question. "It took me overall a few years to complete the entirety of the process, to work up to a Double-oh status."
You: James made a face, not sure whether or not he was just playing with him. A phenomenal field agent who was also very apt with computers? Was there anything he could not do? But he wasn't about to accuse him of lying /again/ and make a fool out of himself /again/, so he just turned his gaze away from him, eyes settling on the bartender who had finally showed up. "I'll have a scotch, please," he said, before glancing at Tiago again. "Really, you think of this as an opportunity? Even if it means you're stuck at headquarters? I'd thought this job would be much more exciting... Maybe I'll just stay an agent, then, forget about a possible promotion."
Stranger: Placing his order with the bartender, then thanking him as he went off to fill their orders, Tiago again looked over at James with a raised eyebrow. "Don't let that keep you from becoming a Double-oh, James. I would be out at the moment, as I said, but there was a need for my computer skills, for they're in particular demand at the moment. I assure you that if you know nothing of computers, you won't have to worry about being grounded, such as I am. Besides, once they no longer need me here, it's off I go," waving a hand to indicate freedom, he made a bit of a whistling sound.
You: James scowled. "So I'd be getting another mentor, then? Or do you plan on staying with me all the way? Because I can assure you, I'll find my way around fast enough." Yes James, way to go, tell your mentor you don't need him. That'll make him respect you. "I mean - how long is this going to take, anyway? I would hate to be a bother." Somewhere in the back of his mind he hoped though that Tiago wouldn't find his brashness abrasive, but the feeling wasn't strong enough to make him shut up. "Things might work out for me, though," he snorted as he took a sip from his drink as it was handed to him. "Computers aren't exactly up my alley. I'm a man of action, I can't sit around all day. I need to do things. Keep busy."
Stranger: "Yes..." Tiago accepted his drink, taking a sip before continuing, now placing his gaze on the surface of the bar, running over each scratch and bump. "Being a Double-oh gives you a license to kill in the field, and it does require a good deal of training. However, the mentored training goes for only a few months, and the rest of it is independent training and the like. You'll not have to deal with me for all too long, I assure you, James. I'm to be grounded in London for another half year, so you're not going to have to worry about being passed on, either." He fell silent at this point, wondering why it was the younger was being so abrasive. Though he had faced others like this, it was rather difficult to keep a positive affectation for this long.
You: "Oh." James stopped talking, too, fingers playing with his glass. "Well, that's good, then, I suppose." He drank some more, his eyes traveling around his surroundings. He wondered why Tiago had brought them here, of all places. Maybe it was a local favorite of his? There was probably a story behind it, but he didn't ask. He felt he'd said /quite/ enough, and if the silence from the other man was any indication, maybe that wasn't all that good.
Stranger: Tiago absently gave a barely perceptible nod, placing his drink down on the bar and now running his fingers over the surface. "Yes, indeed. I suppose it is..." Well, he had certainly lost steam at this point, really. What was he to say now? The silence felt thick, broken only by the movement of the bartender and a few of the patrons, all who were absorbed in their own activities.
You: James' fingers clenched around the glass, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Oh boy. Definitely not good.
He looked up at Tiago again, trying to make eye contact. Better to try and fix things now than wait until they were back to working together. His life would depend on his training; he needed to trust him, and Tiago needed to trust James as well. "You see," he said, "I would hate to... to start working with someone and then have to start all over with someone new when they leave. I don't think that would work out very well. I need someone to have my back and I can't put my life in the hands of every person who gets assigned to me, one after another."
Stranger: Hearing James' speaking, Tiago again looked to him with a raised eyebrow. Well, the young man clearly was trying to make an effort to amend what he had previously said, so at least there was that. "Ah, I see. Understood, James, understood," he offered the other a bit of a smile, hoping that it appeared to be understanding.
You: He noticed the glimpse of friendliness Tiago showed him, but didn't dare take his chances in interpreting it as such; for all he knew it hadn't been a smile at all but rather a mocking smirk. It was hard to tell in the dark venue. "I guess I'm just very eager to get started," he concluded. "Make sure everyone knows I can do this. That I've got what it takes."
Stranger: "Understandable, certainly. I myself was, and still am, rather eager to get out there and jump directly into a mission. However, patience must be had and time must be taken," shrugging, Tiago finished off the rest of his drink, setting the empty glass down on the bar. "And I'm sure that you've got what it takes, James. From what I saw today, you'll do brilliantly."
You: It may have been a while since he was last a rookie, but still, the compliment from the experienced agent made him feel rather pleased. To be recognized - to be recognized by someone who's been there and done that felt great, always had. But then - to have that same agent talk him down because he'd tripped over his enormous ego once again... that part was rather humiliating. "Thanks," he muttered, playing with the glass in his hands again, before suddenly placing it down on the bar rather forcefully, not able to take the irritation anymore. "Shit," he groaned, closing his eyes in frustration. "This is /not/ how I'd expected to come across on my first day on the job, I swear."
Stranger: "What do you mean by that? How is it that you felt you came across on your first day?" Tiago shot a quick look at James, noting how irritated he seemed to be. Not well, he took it, then. Perhaps he felt he had been too cocky, which he certainly had been, but Tiago wasn't about to call him out on such things. It happened, and there wasn't always anything that could be done.
You: "You know," James grumbled, not looking back at him but rather stubbornly staring straight ahead over his glass. "I never thought it would be this hard to be at the bottom of the ladder again. I should've been more professional. Isn't part of being agent being able to take orders no matter what?" At this he glanced at Tiago. "And here I am blowing my chances by going against everything my superior says."
Stranger: "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. "And how is it that you've gone against me? You've done all I asked, and that's all you need to do."
You: He tried to refrain from laughing but mostly failed, resulting in a "Heh" and accompanying smirk. "You were?" Somehow he had no trouble believing that, looking at the Spanish agent who had now definitely smiled at him. There was a glint in his eyes that suggested he fondly remembered those times. "Still, back at the range... I thought you were screwing with me, with that ridiculous score... I should've known better."
Stranger: "Yes, I was. But I was cut down to size soon enough, I assure you, by one 005," he gave a nod. "As for the firing range, your disbelief was understandable, James. It's not often that I tell someone that without getting questioned on its authenticity."
You: "So tell me about that," James grinned, gaining back some of his old bravado, nursing his drink again. "What were you like as a rookie? When you'd just joined the agency?"
Stranger: "What was I like?" Tiago paused, shrugging a bit as he tried to recall any exact incidents. "Well, as I've said, I was far too confident. I had a very inflated ego, if you will. I sort of...brushed what they told me about certain things, and I paid dearly for it later on. Though I did do alright on the first day, seeing as it was very basic."
You: James nodded. "So you know what you're talking about," he said, referring to Tiago's correct assessment of himself. "If I get out of line - do try and put me right back where I belong, yes. Don't be nice about it. I intend to be the best agent I can be; I'll need to get rid of some character flaws for that." With that he finished his drink, signaling the bartender for another one.
Stranger: "Of course. I will happily correct you if needed," Tiago agreed, lacing his fingers together and resting them on the top of the bar. "I don't want you ending up with two broken ribs, now do I?"
You: He snorted. "That what happened to you? How /did/ you pay for your mistakes, by the way, if I may ask? Is that when they came up with that excuse for you to stay put in London?"
Stranger: "No, no. I'm in London because of what I've already told you. My mistakes were paid for during the start of my training," Tiago chuckled. "It was one of the days in which I was practicing self-defense with 005. I was far too confident, and I tried to make an attack when it was obvious I wouldn't make it. As a result, I got a rather hard kick to the side, resulting in two broken ribs and a bit of a crack in a third."
You: James shook his head, laughing, gratefully accepting the second drink that was handed to him. "I'm just messing with you," he said, putting the glass to his lips. "Obviously to train the very best one must send him the very best teacher. I haven't seen your computer skills, but they should be okay, if they need you at headquarters in spite of your other abilities. But tell me this," he continued, starting to get slightly affected by the alcohol, voice dropping a little, "I've heard so many stories about you when I was going through the whole application process. Any of it true? Everyone seems to be quite fond of you. Not a bad word to be found."
"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.
"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
"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.
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