Continuation of this for shipimpala. I wish you all a Happy New Year, hoped you had a wonderful time during Christmas, and even if not, that you will find joy in the new year.
Based on this gifset by shipimpala
xx
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It was the third time in a week that Q coughed blood. His body bent forward, doubled up with pain, hot tears streaming down his face while all James could do was wash his hands, clean away the red, little drops at the corners of his lips with the cloth in his hand. Around them, the night was quiet, dead, not a single animal, not a bird nor a cat making noise.
Nature held still. It listened. It felt James' pain, and reacted accordingly.
Q's condition had not improved despise the medication the doctor left him the last time he had shown up, and regardless of what James did to help him get better, it didn't seem to work. All the soup, all the fruits smashed to juice, all the hours spent on the beach, staring at the ocean with his arms wrapped around the shaking, weak body, all for nothing. Q was going to die. James felt it, deep inside his core, knew with his heart and his mind that Q was going to die and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
His family cut ties with him once they found out there was nothing they could do. The doctor gave James, believing he was the new nurse the family sent, instructions on how to make the boy's death easier and then disappeared, the roaring of a plane's engine breaking through the silence of the night that day.
With no one but James to hold him while he cried, James made a decision. He didn't know if it was selfish, if he should have asked, explained, first, but Q didn't react when he talked to him, could only nod and shake his head, words moving in silent pleas James couldn't hear. It broke his heart to see Q this way; to see him lying in his bed, unable to move, unable to breathe, shaking underneath the blankets, all long limbs and messy hair.
A fallen angel knocking on death's door, waiting to die, waiting for the sweet salvation, the release from his pain and his body which never served him well. All the fear he felt was gone; he didn't cry out of fear, out of worry, he cried because he was in pain and because it wasn't over yet.
Squeezing the hands he was holding in his own hard, James decided that he couldn't let him die. That he wouldn't let him go like this, not when he could save him.
Leaving the house was the easiest part. He left behind the money, left behind the medication and the clothes, and carried Q to the forest. Sweet, hot blood left his nostrils, running down his chin and dropping on James' arms, his mouth hanging open. James didn't know if he was breathing or not. Didn't know if his heart still was beating, could only feel his warm, living body under his fingers.
Nuzzling the mop of Q's hair, James let him down on the ground in the middle of the forest, surrounded by trees and bushes covering them from the wind. It was surprisingly warm. The air tasted of salt, the beach close to them, the ocean and the water which they had seen so often before, had been at every evening in the last few weeks.
It felt fitting that Q's life would end here, and not in the house which served as a cage, not a home.
No more letters made by parents who didn't care about him. No more nurses going out for a smoke when her patient inside was nearly coughing his lungs out. No more pretending to be happy when his gaze went over to the window, a longing tugging on Q's heart. No more illness. No more coughing, no more crying.
Feeling fur breaking through his skin, James let go of his hand and let the shift happen, bones breaking, muscles shifting and teeth growing, hands falling down on the ground in the form of paws. He shook himself and leant down to lick over Q's lips, nosing down his chin and to his throat, trying to feel breathing, life, but nothing was there, only the feeling of dried blood on cold skin.
James couldn't remember what it was like to be turned. It had been so long ago, years before Q was born, long before James joined the Navy on his search for a task, something to do. All he knew was that it was the only solution, the only way to keep Q alive.
His teeth broke through his skin easily. He chose Q's arm, where it would hurt less than the shoulder or the collarbone, tasting blood on his tongue and flesh under his teeth. Hopefully, it would work. Hopefully, it wasn't too late already, hopefully Q wasn't dead and too far gone. James had no one else left. Without Q, he-
James threw his head back and howled, begged the moon and the stars to not take this boy from him. Sent his pleas to the sky, his paws resting on Q's chest, his tail brushing over his naked feet resting on the grass. Please, he wanted to say, please, don't do this to me.
Nature listened.
The turn happened in the night when James tried to sleep, still guarding over the body and growling at everything, even squirrels, daring to come close. Had he been motionless before, Q suddenly began to shake; he moaned, eyes wide open, staring up at the trees above them as his insides adapted, the poison spreading out inside him like a parasite. James tried to hold him down, but Q shook so hard, screamed and trashed, it was nearly impossible to stop him from hurting himself.
It took half an hour before Q's scream turned into a howl.
He was a small wolf, barely reaching James' shoulders as he stood up on shaky legs, failing to coordinate four legs when he was used to one. Black, curly fur, making him look like sheep, a furry dog, but not a dangerous wolf, and bright green eyes.
Full of life.
James gently nosed over his side and pressed close, tried to be there for the boy in a change like this. Instead of being upset, Q seemed content; he sat on his hind legs, lifted his head, and howled with all his might.
could you continue the wolf bond fic and maybe include Q attempting to escape but then he gets in danger (maybe other wolves?) and bond has to save him? :) love youu
Anonymous asked you:
More werebond?
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Alright, I love you too!
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Part One - Q is kidnapped
Part Two - James is an unusual captor
Part Three - Skinny-dipping
It was that stage of fall where the mornings were beginning to grow frigid, and venturing out from under the blankets seemed foolish and unnecessary. Q felt chillier than normal and turned on his side, arm automatically reaching out and stopping as he felt along the burlap mattress and found only a cold, wolf-shaped indentation. James. Where had he gone? Q pulled himself up and reluctantly threw off the covers, feeling around for his glasses.
The cave was abandoned, the morning light just starting to fall through the entrance. And the gate was ajar. That was definitely unusual. Q pulled on his sole pair of trousers and boots, wandering over to the wrought-iron to feel along its bars. He’d been James’ “prisoner” for two weeks and had only ever ventured out into the woods with the sometimes wolf as his protector. Thoughts of retracing his steps to his photography blind and some of his belongings began to tempt him. James would be mad… probably furious. But this might be Q’s only chance. He threw on his shirt hastily, making a quick decision before he lost his nerve.
Light shined through thick branches, the multitudes of ancient evergreens standing proud and full as the deciduous trees slowly lost their foliage. Each fresh crunch under his boots seemed loud in the solitude, and a frightened bird taking flight to his left startled Q. He pulled his parka tightly around his body, trying to identify any familiar landmarks that would guide him to his original lookout spot.
Soon the sun was high above him in the sky and beating down warmly. By absolute sheer luck Q stumbled through a clearing to find the site of his abduction and the abandoned blind. He trotted over to the ripped fabric, pulling it to the side and crowing happily as he uncovered his backpack and camera bag. The empty mug of tea that he had so hastily discarded was still there on the ground, cold and rusting. He picked it up gingerly and began to rummage through the bag, delighted to find a warm jumper and his mobile, although it was unfortunately out of batteries. But it was certainly better than nothing.
Smiling to himself he re-packed the bag and slung it over his shoulder, taking one step forward and wondering where he should go. On one hand he was by himself, finally free and able to make a break for it. He could seek out the hotel room where his luggage was abandoned, phone his job, return to the real world.
And on the other hand there was James. The sometimes man, sometimes wolf who had kidnapped him, called him his mate, and locked him in a cave. But he’d also cooked him breakfast every morning, curled around him every night, and licked his cheek when Q wasn’t looking. Q felt a pulling in his chest, a warmness that spread through his bones as he thought of the man. James had called it a bond, saying they were connected. Q had thought it was a lot of hooey. He didn’t believe in mates or even soulmates, and certainly not bonding with mythical creatures. But he couldn’t deny there was something there.
His steps faltered as indecision waffled through his thoughts. Looking up, he realized he had absolutely no idea where he was. The clearing was gone, there were no recognizable landmarks, and the sun was beginning to sink into the horizon. Q felt the beginnings of fear start to seep upward. It was going to be cold and he was very alone. He forced himself to put one foot in front of the other, trudging onward until the sun had finally sunk and only the glow of rays lit his way.
A sharp crack of twigs caused Q to freeze in his tracks. He clutched his bag tightly, drawing it into his hands to use as a weapon or shield, peering into the twilight around him. Two glittering eyes were suddenly staring at him, their colour an eerie bright yellow. They advanced slowly, a gigantic midnight black wolf gradually materializing in the dim light. His lips were drawn back into a snarl, large white teeth bared and wicked claws clicking against the leaves with each heavy step. Q inched backward until he felt himself bump into a tree trunk, the wolf stalking forward with a menacing growl and only stopping when he was a hairs-breadth away from Q’s face. The long snout snuffed along Q’s neck and shoulder, and he suddenly remembered James' tendency to lick along that skin and place his teeth there. Q belatedly realized that he had been marking him.
As the black wolf’s teeth began to slide along his neck, Q stiffened in fear and a surprising tendril of guilt ran through him at the intimacy of the gesture. The large jaws were hinging open, beginning to wrap around his shoulder and sink down sharply and Q closed his eyes, pain digging inward and then shooting through his skin as the teeth were suddenly yanked backward, dragging away some of his flesh and parka in the process. His eyes flew open and there was James, furious and powerful, teeth ripping into the midnight black wolf’s neck and muzzle. The two grappled on the ground as Q grasped at his bleeding shoulder, backing away to stay out of their flailing limbs.
It was over quickly with a slash to the face and a bleeding snout, and the rival lay whimpering on the ground with laboured breathing. James moved his body protectively in front of Q’s shocked form, baring his teeth until the dark wolf struggled upward and limped away with a hiss and snap of his jaw. James’ answering growl was possessive and feral, and Q felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. When the coast was clear James rounded on him, and Q could see how absolutely furious he was through the angry thrash of his tail and narrowed eyes. The wolf snuffled along Q’s neck, wheezing wet breath as he caught the scent of another and turned away. He stalked off, checking to be sure that Q followed him. He did.
When they were safely back in the cave, James shifted back to human form, silent and seething as he examined his wounds. Q sat on the bed, feeling foolish and terrified.
“I’m sorry,” Q said softly, unable to meet James’ hurt eyes.
The mattress shifted as James sat down, resting his head on Q’s bowed back. “You could’ve been hurt.” His voice sounded small and more frightened than Q had ever heard it. He felt the tugging in his chest again, the bond between them throbbing and tightening and then Q turned and wrapped his arms around James’ chest.
“Forgive me,” Q whispered into the hard muscle and scars. James buried his head into the crook of Q’s neck, kissing and nipping and teeth sinking into a bite that would leave a thick purple mark.
The kiss they shared, their first kiss, was frantic and needy, and Q let James pull him onto his lap and run his hands everywhere.
Will you turn werewolf!Bond into a series? I really love it! Your writing is amazing!! xx <3
Anonymous asked you:
more werewolf!Bond?
Anonymous asked you:
Oh my god!! Please please continue the werewolf fic!! It’s wonderful!
Anonymous asked you:
Can you please continue the fic where bond is a werewolf and Q is his “mate”? :)
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Thank you, lovely people!
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Part One Part Two
The worst thing by far was the fur. Or maybe it was the snoring. Possibly the way James’ wet nose always found his face in the morning. The lack of extra pants and a toothbrush also was unpleasant. Ok, there were a lot of things that were bad about the situation.
Q grumbled to himself as he rolled out of bed, a feeling that was gradually becoming the norm. He turned to regard James’ slumbering outline, the man sleeping peacefully in his giant wolf form. The white fur was ruffled from where he had been pressed against Q’s body, and his deep breaths caused the large barrel-like chest to rise and fall rhythmically. He was kind of beautiful in an ancient, majestic sort of way, Q supposed. He didn’t like to stare at James when he was awake; he still felt too awkward. And he was still technically a prisoner here, although James regarded him with absolute adoration. Perhaps that was the most annoying part.
Q fiddled around in the cupboards, looking for some breakfast. He heard James stirring behind him with a high-pitched yawn and then some soft noises that Q was now recognizing as those accompanying a shape shift. When he looked back he saw James lying on his back on the burlap mattress, completely naked as he always was after changing and stretching his tired muscles. He looked at Q with a sleepy smile and Q averted his eyes at his nakedness. He was beginning to know this man’s body more than was normal after a one week period with someone who was holding you captive. Albeit in the nicest way possible.
“Morning, Q,” James said, rolling over onto his stomach. His body moved with a sinuous liquid grace and Q turned back to the cupboard to keep from staring.
“Morning,” he replied woodenly, picking up an apple and sitting down on the wooden log. The furniture was quite sparse and Q found himself missing his old desk chair. He rubbed his hands over his face, chasing the sleep away and feeling completely dirty as he hadn’t showered in days. The scruff under his fingers was beginning to grow longer, and he knew he must have looked like a right mess.
“Everything alright?” James sat upright and reached over to pull on pants to Q’s relief. He let his eyes flick back over to James again, looking at his sleep-flattened hair and warm expression. He felt something inside of him melt a little at the genuine concern there.
“I know your favourite form of bathing involves your tongue, but that’s definitely not going to work for me. Is there a lake or something nearby?” He didn’t have high hopes, but James had been nothing but accommodating so far.
“Yes, there’s one just a little walk from here. We can go this afternoon.”
“Alright,” Q said, chewing thoughtfully. And then he added softly, “Thanks.”
The genuine smile on James’ face was so brilliant that Q had to turn away, face growing slightly flushed.
The walk to the lake was indeed short and Q trailed behind James’ large wolf form, the crunch of leaves loud beneath their feet. The water was crystal clear and frigid as Q dipped in a toe. Mid-September in Alaska was quite cold, and he suddenly realized what a stupid idea this had been. Maybe he could get James to rig up some kind of bath tub in the cave. As he shucked off his shirt and trousers, making sure James was facing the other way and not peeking, he realized what a completely ridiculous thought that was. Two weeks ago he was living in a hotel, eating chocolate bars while editing photos on his laptop. And now he was making sure a werewolf wasn’t peeking at his bits as he went skinny dipping in place of a shower. Bugger.
He began to sink into the water slowly, small movement drawing his attention. “Hey! I said no peeking!”
James huffed out and turned his head away, long tail swishing against the ground. Q narrowed his eyes and splashed in, sucking in a breath as the cold water surrounded him. He turned and looked at James who was still obediently facing the other direction. A sudden grin swept across Q’s face and he took a hand in a sweeping arc across the water and splashed upward onto the great wolf. James spluttered and leapt up, eyes wide and fur bristling as he shook himself off vigorously with a furious yelp. Q giggled at his displeasure but then stopped abruptly when James turned to fix him with a stare. He advanced quickly, shifting into human form right as he reached the water and barreling into Q, grabbing at his naked body while the man shrieked with laughter. They struggled and fell beneath the water, kicking upward and breaking through the surface as they both fought to inhale and laugh in the same breath.
“Wanker,” Q said, belatedly realizing the affection in his tone and pushing his dripping hair back away from his eyes. He glided away from James, sliding smoothly through the water.
James smiled at him, dipping below the surface to scrub at his hair. They swam until their toes grew numb, Q slipping out of James’ fingers each time with feigned annoyance.
When evening drew onward they walked back through the woods as the sun set, light streaming in glowing strands between the tree branches and illuminating the muted browns and golds of fallen leaves. Q breathed in the clear air, watching the wolf in front of him and wondering when he had decided escape was no longer in the forefront of his mind. The silence was companionable, and when James returned with dinner that evening, Q had already started the fire and was waiting.
“You’re bonded to me,” James whispered that night into Q’s hair. Q had no idea if the man thought he was asleep or not, but the words rang true. The night was cold and they burrowed together for warmth.
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CONTINUE THE WEREWOLF!BOND PROMPT I NEED THIS SO BAD
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Glad you liked this one! <3
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Part One
It was day two of being the werewolf’s prisoner. Q kicked at the gravel, looking around the dank cave he was stuck in. The man had left early in the morning without a single word, pushing over a rusty iron gate that caged Q in before transforming into a wolf quickly and scampering off. After the shaking and fear had worn off Q had explored every nook and cranny, looking for an unseen exit or something that could help him escape but he came up dry. The gate itself seemed lightweight but must have had some type of enchantment on it because Q could not even get it to budge and the locking mechanism was strange and other-worldly.
With nothing to do and nowhere to go, Q huffed and sat down on a dry log, contemplating his situation. The only things he had on him were his clothes and his wallet and he didn’t have high hopes the werewolf would accept a credit card in exchange for freedom. His camera had been lost in the scuffle, along with all of his very expensive equipment. And unfortunately, no one would even know he was missing for at least a week or two. With no family to miss him and his job expecting him to be on the photography expedition for some time, he was in a rather poor position. He would just have to try for an escape because a rescue seemed an unlikely prospect. The hours passed and Q had nothing to do but fall asleep.
When he woke, the first thing he became aware of was the alluring smell of cooking meat. He cracked his eyes to see the man tending to a fire with a small animal tied to a spit above it. It was very dark out and Q sat up slowly, head not completely healed from its bump with the ground the previous day. He said nothing, observing the man, a little less afraid now that it seemed he wasn’t going to hurt him. At least he hoped so.
The man was wearing trousers that looked like they were made out of some type of leather, and nothing else. The light of the fire bounced off his luminous skin, highlighting the tone of muscle and the patchwork of scars that adorned his chest and abdomen. A fresh looking gash cut across his bicep, blood trickling out slowly.
“Are you hungry?” the man asked, sitting back on his haunches. He put a hand to his lips, licking juices off his finger tip and then running his tongue over his teeth.
Q gulped at the reminder of those sharp points, trying to be relieved that he was being offered dinner instead of becoming it himself. He knew nothing about werewolf lore; he only knew about the carnivorous diet of wolves and he sincerely hoped this man stuck only to rabbits.
“Yes,” Q said finally, his stomach making up his mind for him.
The man smiled a smile that was much kinder than before. He began to take meat off of the spit, pulling off a leg and beckoning Q closer.
Q reluctantly got up and sat himself down on the log on the opposite side of the fire, wondering how he was suddenly dining with a wolf man who had made him his prisoner. The man held out the meat and Q took it gingerly, trying to avoid touching his skin. Their eyes met and Q was taken by their beauty for a moment, despite everything. They were a crystal clear blue, flashing warmly now, the edges crinkled up in a friendly smile. Q bit his lip and drew his hand backward, sniffing at the meat. He cautiously took a bite, letting the juicy taste slide over his tongue before ripping into it with vigor. He hadn’t eaten in a day and a half and his stomach suddenly roared back to life.
The man watched him as he ate, taking small bites of his own and chewing contemplatively. He took the finished bone from Q, wordlessly handing him another. Q devoured it quickly, feeling the blue eyes watching him with curiosity. The large hand came out again for the bone and Q deposited it in his palm, remembering both the large paws of the wolf and the hand clamped over his mouth when he’d been kidnapped.
They sat in silence for a moment before the man shifted. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said tentatively. “I get a little… irritable when I haven’t eaten.”
Q grumbled, thinking how that was definitely an understatement. His mind reminded him that he was now conversing with and empathizing with a werewolf, but being in this cave and witnessing some pretty strange things was causing a temporary suspension of his beliefs about normality.
“Yes, indeed,” Q said, falling back on propriety.
“My name is James,” the man said, wiping his hands on his trousers and looking at Q intently. When he didn’t respond in kind he prompted, “And you are?”
Q figured there was no harm in telling him. “Q.”
“Ah, fantastic. Q. Lovely name.”
Q rolled his eyes, beginning to arrange his limbs so he could stand up and walk away from this ridiculous conversation with his captor.
“You’re my mate now,” James said simply.
Q froze, hands on knees. “I’m sorry?”
James just looked at him with a smug smile tugging up the corner of his lips.
“Oh, God,” Q said, standing up quickly and running over to the gate to tug on it fruitlessly. He rested his forehead on the bar after several long minutes of pushing and pulling, hearing James’ soft chuckling from behind him.
“Oh, relax,” the werewolf said, voice jovial. Q found nothing funny about it. “You could’ve been stuck with Alec. He’s mangy and a terrible cook.”
Q sagged against the bars. Great, there was another one, too. He sulked while James put away his cooking implements and made some other noises of cleaning up. Bloody buggering fuck, Q thought to himself. He was stuck here for the foreseeable future with a cooking, cleaning werewolf who wanted to be his mate.
Q flopped down on the burlap sack that James had provided him as a makeshift mattress. He crossed his arms, facing away from the man and the fire while hearing James’ laughter. He lay there, both annoyed and confused, until sleep finally came.
When Q awoke he felt a warm weight next to him and something scratchy against his mouth. Fur. He instantly scrambled to get up but something heavy was restricting his movement. He looked down to see James in wolf form, large paw stretched over his chest. The sharp looking nails flexed as Q watched in both fear and fascination. The wolf still looked deeply asleep and Q slowly tried to slowly pry himself out from between the long, thick legs. He had almost made it when he felt a huffing snort from James and the blue eyes fly open. They looked at him with tired amusement and a long tongue came forward to drag roughly across his jaw.
“That’s disgusting!” Q yelped out, finally breaking free and falling into a sprawl on the dirt floor.
The wolf grinned at him, tongue lolling outward in what could only be a silent laugh.
Q write fantastic books. One day he meets James, who is a werewolf... They fall in love.
- So about what will be your next book, baby?
- About young boy.
- Beautiful young boy.
- And handsome werewolf. A little wounded, but with a big heart.
- How romantic, love.
- This will be a long story...
The boy was young and could hardly be older than eighteen, was maybe even younger. His skin, pale and free of any marks, perfectly smooth under James’ hand as he reached out to touch, was covered in sweat, coughs making the skinny body shake in a tremor.
James kissed his forehead and lifted the wet, cold cloth to wash his face; Q, as the boy called himself, leant into the touch and gave a little noise muffled by the fabric. It quickly turned into a cough as he curled into himself, his breath short and forced.
The werewolf couldn’t help but grimace because it was a horrible sight, but there was little he could do but offer comfort and company even though he was faintly sure he wouldn’t be remembered. Q was suffering from fever; he would wake up in the night and start to cry, staring at the corner of his little room in the empty, isolated manor in the middle of the woods. It wasn’t safe for a lovely boy like him, wasn’t safe for anyone when alone, but the boy’s parents hadn’t thought this through as they sent Q here to recover, the air and warmth on the island doing good to his weak body.
Would he be alone, he’d die.
The doctor his parents hired only came every three days, leaving Q alone to himself with a badly trained nurse who couldn’t be arsed to look after her patient. She hadn’t been too hard to get rid of, and James had decided to take her place.
He didn’t know why he had taken interest in the boy, but his instincts had led him to the lonely house in his territory and now he was staying here. All three days, he would disappear and wait for the doctor to go again, before he’d bring Q some fruits to eat, would feed them to him carefully or prepare soup. On some days Q couldn’t breathe and started to panic, because it felt like his chest was exploding and his ribs poking holes into his lungs.
James wasn’t a doctor, but since he had left the Navy and had gone into the woods, had decided to stay here; he couldn’t bring himself to regret that decision because it had made him meet Q.
He had never believed the legends of mates and wolves who stayed together for all of their lives, a couple which couldn’t be separated by anything because they were bonded in a way humanity didn’t understand, would never comprehend. But looking at Q lying there in the king-sized bed, looking so small, vulnerable and lost, made him want to protect the boy and shield him from all danger no matter what it would cost.
James reached out to brush over his hair, combed through his curly hair, and Q shuffled closer, tangling his legs in the three blankets thrown over him.
“How about a walk?” James asked and smiled as Q shook his head, looking all pouty and immature and downright adorable. Carefully, James threw the blankets to the side and shrugged off his jacket, glad that he had started to hide his clothes around the manor. He yet had to figure out how to shift without tearing them every time.
“It’s cold,” Q mumbled and reached up to James as the werewolf moved his arms under Q’s legs, stopping only to help him put his jacket on. With his abnormal body temperature, James could keep Q warm enough to get him on the fresh air. It didn’t take a doctorate to know that it was the best.
“I’ll keep you warm,” James mumbled and kissed Q’s forehead, cradling him against his chest. He lifted him up and then padded outside, pushing the big entrance door open with his foot.
The evening sun washed over them with a golden, red light, making James lift his head to welcome its warmth. He gave a pleased growl which made his throat and chest vibrate, causing Q to look up at him and blink sleepily.
“Do you want to walk around in the forest for a bit?” James asked, lifting a hand to hold Q’s head steady as he began to cough, little tremors going through his bony body. Q shook his head once he could breathe again, his eyes fluttering closed. “To the beach?” This time Q nodded and turned his head so he could look at the path in front of them, the pebbles crunching under James’ feet. “To the beach it is then.”
He carried him into the forest and lead the way, now and then growling at an animal because he was bored. Q yawned and coughed again, growing a bit more restless in the darkness of the forest; animals all around them, their cries and shouts making shivers run down the boy’s spine. James held him, speeding up and letting his feet carry him on the familiar path through his territory, his home.
The forest was his, and sooner or later, Q would be too. Then maybe, his howls at midnight would be answered by another one in the middle of the forest, and maybe then he could run together with a smaller, black-furred wolf and share his forest with him.
The shift cured every disease, every illness. Q could breathe again – there was nothing negative about it, and the further he went, the clearer, more solid, did the idea in his head get until the pebbles were replaced by sand, and until he could hear the waves hit the shore.
Q gave a smile as he saw the ocean in front of them, his eyes lighting up with life.
“Shall we sit close to the water for a bit?” James asked and smiled as Q nodded, curling his fingers into the fabric of James’ shirt, his bones visible through his vellum-like skin. “I’ll try to keep you dry and warm, alright? Just hold onto me...”
He rolled his trousers up until they were at his knees and sat down in the sand, not minding the water which crept up his legs and soaked his trousers as the waves came closer and closer with the minutes passing. Q in his lap, he began to stroke through the other’s hair, gently trying to get rid of the little knots in his curls.
“I promise you, Q, it’s okay. I’m with you right now,” James kissed his warm forehead and reached down into the water, washing away the sweat, trying to wash away the illness and worry cursing through the young boy’s body. He rested his chin on Q’s head, wrapping his arms around him. “I’m with you, love. I’m not going to make things okay.”
Q kept his hand linked with the werewolf’s as they walked out of the gallery; the man didn’t seem to want to let him go, grip immensely tight as they strode out. “James Bond, I presume?” Q asked with a touch of sarcasm; he hadn’t technically introduced himself, yet.
The man tugged him with a little more fervour, darting into the depths of Charing Cross underground; the far passages were always pretty much deserted, barring some questionable-looking shops.
Bond pushed him against the wall, pulling up his sleeve to look at the indent of the bite mark in Q’s forearm. Q literally stopped breathing, the werewolf’s mouth tracking over the bite, an intense act of intimacy. He lifted his head, pressing closer to Q, those extraordinary blue eyes watching him, like he could vanish at any moment.
“Bond. James Bond,” the werewolf growled, breath hot, hand looping around Q’s slim waist.
Hello! If you're not too busy, I have another vampire!Q werewolf!Bond prompt in mind. Q has been attacked and kidnapped by vampire hunters and Bond come to rescue him. Hurt/Comfort and caring!Bond please ;)
"Oh do we feel creative today?"They pressed the heated metal on his chest again, making him hiss and bare his teeth as his eyes flashed red. It was silver, probably blessed and all that kind of stuff hunters considered as useful, and it burnt like hell.A very interesting choice of words he had taken, given that in their eyes he was a creature of the fiery pit of doom.The vampire pursed his lips, snarling.The events around his capture were a bit blurry, all a big chaos inside his head. He could remember the argument he had have with Bond, and how he had left that evening to let his anger out on some poor miserable soul in a side-alley, and he could remember something going through his shoulder down to his chest.Stakes weren't deadly for a vampire, but they were paralysing. He had been trapped inside his own body, a silent observer as they had carried him away and into a car. Twenty-two minutes of drive, with enough bumps in the streets to drive the stake deeper into Q's heart.He would have their heads for that. Not their blood because there were many things Q would never do, and drinking the blood of such bastards was one of the ones on top.Ripping their arms off one by one, then ripping their stomachs open to put a knot on their bowels and play rope-skipping with them however would be satisfying enough to calm down the bloodthirsty beast inside him, and the last time he had played rope-skipping had been a hundred-and-something years ago.Ah, good old times. Plague, murder, diseases, discrimination and war."Exorcizo te, immundissime spiritus, omnis incursio adversarii, omne phantasma, omnis legio, in nomine Domini nostri Jesu Christi eradicare, et effugare ab hoc plasmate Dei..."Q let out a groan of annoyance. "For fuck's sake, I'm not a bloody demon. You can't just expect me to vanish and disappear in black smoke."They slapped him, and with mild satisfaction he heard the crack of the man's bones breaking. Said winced and took a step backwards, shaking his hand.Q figured that he deserved the following push of the metal to his cheek, in some strange and weird kind of sense. He wondered if there was any part of his body not covered in bruises, just as much as he wondered why it took James this long to find him. Normally he was able to track Q down in a matter of seconds or minutes but Q had been here the whole night and no sign of him so far.A bit disappointing, perhaps. And worrying, since the sun was rising.The hunters took a few steps backwards to look at him, smirking and grinning and whispering though Q could understand every word and he heard how they wanted to leave him here to burn.It wasn't as if he'd burn the moment the sunlight would fall on his skin, but it was a close call.His skin would slowly turn black and then he'd be on fire, and if Bond should ever come to rescue him he would only find ashes and maybe a few bones in front of a wooden cross they had nailed him against.Q tried to clutch his hand into a fist, but the nail having been pushed through his palm made it impossible to and made him hiss.As they turned around to leave, he could hear their laugher until they were out of his hearing range. Q sighed and closed his eyes.Maybe his life would pass in front of his inner eye now, and he could look on more than one hundred years. A lot more than hundred, more than two or three, but that was another story.Q wet his lips, titled his head and looked at the sky above him. It was a nice view, shining stars sparkling like diamonds - and that reminded him of this horrible song of this modern artist, about diamons in the sky or whatever, how much he missed the music from the time of his human life, the beautiful artists with their rich voices echoing through the hall, a time of dresses and suits and beauty and scandals - and with the sky as dark as a raven's feathering.How long until the sun would rise?xxJust as the first few sparks of sun hit Q's skin and made him hiss in pain, there were warm hands on his chest ripping the stake out in one fluid movement.Q screamed and his eyes snapped open, staring into Bond's in disbelief."You-!"James shook his head, pulled the nails out of Q's hands and feet, then put him down on the ground. "Ssh."The vampire lay his head into the grass and groaned, somehow managing to lift his arm to cover his eyes with it. "Don't you ssh me.""I just did", James said with a sigh, and as Q sniffed the air he could smell blood on him."You killed them?""Of course." James growled. He took his jacket and put it over Q to shield his body from the sun, then sat down next to him and rolled his sleeves up. "They hurt what is mine. I can't let them get through with that."James held his wrist over Q's mouth and lifted the jacket a bit, only putting it over him again as Q's fangs sank into his skin. The werewolf bared his teeth, grimacing for a moment."Still convinced that you don't need me to save your arse?"Q hummed, lifting a hand to wrap his fingers around James' arm, trying to keep him still.He only stopped as he felt James' pulse getting weak, and licking his lips Q sat up with a yawn, stretching and watching his wounds heal."Yes. You have your bright and useful moments but I am more than capable of saving myself."James growled, pushed Q down and pinned him down, licking over his neck."Keep telling yourself that. Let's get you out of the sun, shall we?"
