What's better suited as a Christmas present than angst, vampires and dying partners?
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James still remembered how they met. He only didn’t know how many years ago that happened, probably a few hundred, more or less. Time passed in a rush; in the blink of an eye, the Middle Ages were over – thankfully, technology was introduced into the human life and homosexuality was a hot topic. In the blink of an eye, houses became ruins. People died, children grew up, and they had to move on again.
Through all this time, James had never been able to express his gratitude for Q’s company.
The boy had been younger than him by only fifty years, and turned when he was eighteen. Next to James, he looked like a child, so innocent, so naive, that their victims never suspected anything of him until Q’s fangs were in their necks. His intelligence combined with his sarcasm made him the perfect companion, one James could not live without.
It had been a dancing ball. At first James didn’t notice him, but once he did, it was love at first sight. He saw the slender form, the well-formed buttocks and the beautiful eyes, and found himself the victim of a craving and desire he had not known before, not even with Vesper. She was the reason he had been there, the reason he met Q.
And now, she was the reason he was losing him.
They tended to change their houses and names all ten years. James could more easily blend into large groups and society, as him not aging wasn’t much of an issue. But Q, with his baby-face and spots, couldn’t. People began to ask questions. They grew suspicious. When it had been perfectly normal of two gentlemen to live together before, it now alarmed the authorities around them. Was James his father? Partner? Was Q even legal?
James had no idea how they found them. They had just moved into the house in Canada, close to the city, but still lying isolated and alone in a plain surrounded by trees, had spent a night in there fucking on the balcony. With the first streams of light breaking through the sunlight, they had come.
Twenty hunters, heavily armed. With guns not being legal without a license anymore, the only ways of defending each other they had were knives, and their teeth.
It all ended with a stake tearing a hole straight into Q’s heart.
Q fell.
The minutes between killing the last hunters, picking the lifeless body of his lover up and running outside the house, straight into the sun, passed without James consciously taking notice. All he felt was the pain of the sunlight falling onto his skin, and the pain of his lover dying in his arms. He ran. As fast as he could, ignoring the pain and the fear, dead heart beating rapidly inside his chest as he ran straight to the one place he swore he would never come back to.
MI6.
He had been there when it had been opened for the first time, had been an agent during the Cold War, where he had ‘died’ and hidden in Sweden. Five years during which he had not been with Q – a little misunderstanding, but they had reunited again, things were fine, had been fine until Vesper sent hunters on their trail. He knew it had been her. It could only be her.
While James never let MI6 know what he was, they seemed to understand the moment they saw him. For humans, they knew more than the rest of their kind. No one stopped him in the corridors, no one foolishly tried to shoot him. He held Q to his chest, hugging him close and whispering words into his ear, switching languages, dialects and eras every sentence.
Q couldn’t die. James didn’t know what he would do without him, couldn’t go on with his companion gone. The more time passed, the less likely it was that Q would survive.
“What are you doing here,” was the first thing M said to him, no words of surprise, no shock, just her cold, usual self. She had aged. Granted, James had not seen her since the Cold War. “And why are you dragging a corpse into my agency.”
“He’s not a corpse,” James hissed, letting his fangs slide out, eyes glowing in an abnormal white. “I know you have ways of healing him. Do it.”
M, despise her eyes widening slightly and her pulse quickening, remained composed. She gestured towards a room and followed the vampire with enough distance, whispering commands to her underlings. James paid little attention; he lifted Q’s body onto the bed and brushed curls out of his face, hands trembling as he saw the ashen skin, all the lines of veins underneath visible like his skin was made of glass.
“Vampires die when they are hit with a stake,” M said from the corner she was standing in and shook her head. “He’s dead. All we can do is burn his body and heal your wounds.”
“We do not.” James turned to her and hissed, shrugging off his shirt. Chunks of his skin followed; it would heal, he’d only need blood for that, but Q’s life was a priority. He bit into his own wrist, trying to draw blood. They had not been out to hunt in days, but it should be enough, it had to be enough. Q couldn’t die. “We’re paralysed. They put holy water onto the sharp end. It’s poisonous, I have to...”
He leant down and pressed a kiss to Q’s lips, cupping his cheeks in his hands. “I have to...”
Someone tried to push him backwards, probably a minion, because M wasn’t this suicidal. He pushed the human away, heard his bones crack when he hit the wall and turned around to glare, blood running down his arms.
“Touch him, and I will kill you,” he growled, baring his teeth in a snarl. “Out.”
“I will not follow orders in my own agency!” James growled at her, making M step backwards, her back hitting the doorframe. “Bond-“
“Out!”
He waited until the room was empty, before turning back to his lover, pressing his lips on the others’. He tasted of holy water. It burnt James’ lips, burnt when James touched open wounds, scratching them into his skin. When he leant back, he held his wrist to Q’s lips, and waited.
“Come on,” he whispered, turning his head to look at the door. “Please. Q... I can’t... suck... come on... suck!”
x (Uhuhu...I love vampire!Bond.)When Q met James, everything was perfect. Bond is handsome, intelligent, affectionate... They fall in love. But there is one problem ... James is a vampire from the 17th century.
- How old are you ,James?
- I have 40 years old, love.
- How old are you, James? I saw your portrait from the 18th century... I..It was you, I know that....James..
- Q..363...I was born in 1650...in Scotland.
- I..I...how..
