#gunturier

[stillhavespots-a]

‘ i think we’re done ‘ from Loki

Q’s hand was folded tightly over the handle of his suitcase. He frowned slightly, trying to look at Loki’s face, as the sun shone behind the man’s head.      ‘   I agree.  ’   Loki looked awfully out of place here, at the train station, platform four. Q’s brown shoes shuffled ever so slightly on the concrete beneath.             ‘ But if you ever happen to be in London, please consider my door to be open. After all of the generous hospitality you’ve shown me the last couple of days, it’d be the least I can do. ’   Q figured that Loki probably had a dozen of other places to chose from, when he had to be in London. Probably a second home in the very heart of it. But a part of him really hoped that this wouldn’t be goodbye forever.

[stillhavespots-a]

➳ / from Constantino

2. A rough kiss against the wall

     It was night, they were walking on empty cobblestones. Stars lit the sky, street lanterns lit their faces now and then. Q glanced at Loki’s features when they were lightened up, in a dazing haze of alcohol (only a little), and of excitement (a lot) he pulled the designer into an alley. It was darker here. The stone beneath their feet was still slippery from the rain and by the artificial light it reflected in blue. He pressed the other body against the red bricks, right under the street sign.

     Q didn’t read the sign, he closed his eyes, pressed his lips against Loki’s, hungrily started to kiss him. Their bodies were flush together. Q enjoyed it. He enjoyed feeling the soft fabric of Loki’s coat against his fingers, enjoyed his cold nose against his own. Their breathing were making small, warm clouds in the cool winter air. He really shouldn’t be enjoying this so much. But he’d always been a big believer in making work as pleasurable as one could. And pleasurable it had been, the last couple of days.

[stillhavespots-a]

. “My name’s L.oki, what’s yours?” / from Loki

     He shook the man’s (who apparently was named Loki, curiously enough) hand firmly.  ‘ A pleasure to meet you, Loki. ’    He then put his hands on his hips, taking a good look at him, at Loki.          ‘ It’s Henry, Henry Davies.   Also may I just compliment your impressive collection? I’m not a connoisseur, but I’ve been enjoying myself by just walking around here. ’    Lies. But it wasn’t as if Loki was telling the truth either. Who’s parents would be so cruel to actually name their child after the god of mischief? Probably parents with pretty good genetics, actually. The designers face was particularly… handsome. Q had no other word for it.                ( Also: this probably, really possibly was the man Bond and him had been after for this entire mission. Damn it.)