lepidopterologist

for Q

For some time now, Harry had been considering a talk with Bond. The flirting did not go unnoticed, it seemed stronger every day. As did Q's discomfort, Harry thought, though that was also harder to judge... and Harry felt as if he were possibly the least qualified person in the world to give someone advice about this sort of thing.

Eventually, though, he decided that what he was mostly concerned about Q's wellbeing. Which he found he cared a great deal about.

He'd decided that he did want to check on Q. So he fell into step with him as they inadvertently met up on the way to home from the beach. "Good morning, Q," he said pleasantly.

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Q huffed a little, taking what should have been Bond's share of the blankets before turning over onto his back to look at Harry.

"Are you coming to bed, Harry?" he asked, scooting closer to Bond to make sure that Harry could see there was plenty of room left.

Harry had been trying not to stare at Bond's mostly naked body, so was glad to shift his attention to Q.

He nearly asked Q if they could speak for a moment alone first. He wished he could wrap his head around this a bit more before jumping into... well, whatever this was. Though it seemed cruel to pull Q out of bed. He told himself not to overthink it, not to be a fool.

He began to undress, methodically removing his suit and folding it over a chair, until he was down to a pair of black boxer shorts and a white tshirt, sitting on the edge of the bed beside them.

Bond reached out over Q, taking Harry by the shoulder and pulling ever so gently.

"Shouldn't sleep sitting up," he said. "Lie down, Harry. Get comfortable."

Q wriggled a little, kicking the blankets and rolling onto his side. Like this his bum was pressed against James, but he could easily reach for Harry.

Q was calmer than Bond, gentle even, not pulling at the other man, but just touching him gently.

"Do you have enough room? You can come closer, I'll not bite," he promised Harry. "...I mean, Bond might, but I personally gave him his shots, so you should be alright."

Harry turned to look at them, a self conscious smile on his lips as he took off the glasses and set them on the bedside table.

He actually hadn't been with anyone since he'd lost his eye. He hadn't really thought about it until this moment; it wasn't as if he slept in his glasses.

"It's been a while since I've shared a bed with someone," he confessed as he lay down in the bed beside Q.

"Q," he admonished, "I won't bite him."

He smirked a bit, watching Harry settle in.

"Well...maybe some day."

Q wriggled a little in defiance, squirming against them both and settling in with a quiet little huff.

"I'll bite you both," he muttered.

Harry felt himself relaxing. Clearly this was no big deal to either Q nor Bond. And it did seem... that they were just sleeping.

He slipped a hand onto Q's waist.

"Just not while I'm sleeping, hmm?"

"If you insist, Harry. Take all the fun out of it," he teased, settling into his pillow and laying a light hand on Q's hip.

Q had been selfishly keeping his hands to himself, but with both men touching him, he felt the need to reciprocate. Reaching back, one hand found Bond's bicep. Reaching forward with his other hand, he settled for draping an arm lazily over Harry. For such a scrawny little thing, Q took up his fair share of the bed as he settled in again with a yawn.

"Mmm, I'll do my best to behave, but I make no promises."

It was nice, Harry thought, to just be so close to someone.

He was glad he'd had the scotch, though.

"Only to the best of your ability," he murmured.

Bond rocked forward, grinding against Q's ass.

"Just put your back into it, Q. That's all you've got to do."

Q made a startled little sound, bucking against Harry before he could stop himself. His cheeks flushed a soft pink, and he had to awkwardly clear his throat before tossing back a less than smooth comeback.

"I'm not a jammed door, Bond."

Harry wasn't entirely sure what was happening when he felt Q move against him. But then it was over, and he relaxed again. "I believe you're mixing metaphors," was all he could come up with as a response.

"You might be a jammed door," Bond purred against his neck, then moved away. "He's fine, Harry. It's all fine. No mixing of anything."

Still a tad flushed, Q hid his face against Harry's chest.

"Wanker," he replied, the word muffled.

Without thinking, Harry carded his fingers lightly through Q's hair. It was a small intimacy that he hadn't experienced in a long time.

"Don't call me a wanker," Bond scolded softly, curving himself against Q's back, then letting go to fight with the pillow a bit to make himself comfortable.

Q seemed to calm a bit under Harry's light touch, and by the time Bond was curled against him the boffin was already starting to drift off. He felt safe and content, and for the first time in weeks he felt at ease as sleep came for him.

Harry was a light sleeper, years of sleeping with a gun under his pillow. (Though he had no option for 'one eye open' anymore beyond the figurative.) He also wasn't exactly relaxed in the current situation, and his mind was a jumble... but once Q fell asleep, he did find something soothing about the steady beat of his heart, and eventually drifted off as well.

Bond was drunk, but hardly drowsy. He laid still, listening to the steady breathing of the pair. Thoughts raced through his head. He'd never been good at sharing It was easier to simply walk away. That wasn't an option here. There was nowhere to go. It forced him to face this situation and deal with it. He found, upon reflection, pickled as it was, that he did find Harry agreeable. He was a good man with a good ethic and Bond had no doubt of the man's love of Queen and Country. That was something he could respect, and, honestly, not something he got off Q. Q was a bloody anarchist in some ways. He drifted off thinking of all the ways Harry and he saw eye to eye.

Bond woke up then, hours later, and needed to pee. The pair were still asleep so he slipped out of bed quietly and went to the loo to take care of things. His head ached a bit, his brain a bit dry, he imagined. He grabbed a cup of water and came back to bed, hoping to get a bit more sleep. But when he tried to crawl back in bed the whole mattress squeaked and lurched with his weight, regardless of how quiet he was trying to be.

Bond's exit invited a cold chill, and Q murmured a protest before greedily wriggling closer to Harry to steal some of his body heat. Not yet fully awake, but not quite asleep anymore, the boffin made note of the double-o's leave and return. It was habit, really. It was simply second nature to keep track of James.

"It's too early," he complained softly.

Harry was an incredibly light sleeper. He was awake and simply feeling Q's steady heartbeat, by the time he felt Bond get back into the bed and Q stir.

"Sleep as long as you like, Q," he murmured. It wasn't as if any of them had any pressing engagements in the morning.

Bond settled back in bed in the scant space Q had left for him. He draped an arm around the boffin, less out of some desire for affection and more to hold on so he didn't topple back off the edge.

"He's not going back to sleep," Bond told Harry. "He'll grumble a bit, then get up for tea."

"Perhaps I'm planning to go into hibernation," Q retorted with a yawn. though he was coming around a little, blinking the sleep away as he looked at Harry with a soft and dopy little smile- Before rolling onto his back to look at Bond.

"Why are you up so early anyway?"

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