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The beginning of the autumn term always made Q's stomach twitch unpleasantly. On top of that, he was just starting out as a teacher. He'd recently graduated and landed a job in a small secondary school. His classroom was all set — from the scale model of the solar system to the brand new microscopes.
He was a bit nervous — after all, he was still young and his students weren't that much younger. He still had a bit of free time before his first lesson, allowing him to dawdle as he pleased in the teachers' lounge.
Most teachers were already in class or in their own office but some staff members could be found near the coffee machine. A tall woman with dark complexion was talking to a man in his forties. Another man, clad in a tailored suit, greeted them and slipped a coin in the machine.
"Hey, James," said the black woman with a large smile on her face. "How were your holidays?"
"Fine, fine." He smiled and grabbed the cup of coffee. He cringed — Q guessed he'd just burnt his palm through the plastic cup.
Q was still standing there with his messenger bag hung on his bony shoulder when the woman faced him. She looked very much like a secretary with her red pencil skirt, white silk blouse and high heels.
"Hello," she said to him with a warm and welcoming smile. "You're the new science teacher, right?"
"Uhm, yes. Hello." He was a bit uncomfortable — three pairs of eyes scanning him.
"My name's Eve Moneypenny, I'm the Principal's secretary. You're Mr Quincy, right?"
"I prefer being called Q, if you don't mind," he smiled gingerly, his fingers clutching the strap of his bag.
The man he'd first seen talking with Eve introduced himself : "I'm Bill Tanner, I teach maths." He stretched his arm to shake hands with Q. Q let go of the strap and shook his hand, hoping his palm would not be too sweaty.
"James Bond, history," the man with the expensive suit told. His grip was firm but his hand was soft. Q didn't know what to think about him yet. Eve and Bill seemed to be nice enough.
Q listened to them chat away about their respective holidays and their hopes for the upcoming year. He wrapped his hand around his travel mug and took a small sip to keep himself busy, and not to appear awkward just standing there. The bell rang and he rushed to class.
***
"So, you're new here," said James Bond, walking with him towards the main building.
"Yes." Q wondered what James would say to him.
"Which subject are you teaching again?"
"Science."
"You must be joking," snorted the other man.
"Why, because I'm not wearing a lab coat?" he said with irony.
"Because you still have spots."
"My complexion is hardly relevant," sighed Q as he opened the door of the building.
"Your competence is."
"Age is no guarantee of efficiency."
"And youth is no guarantee of innovation," continued the history teacher.
"You'd be surprised of all the inventive ideas I can come up with, Mr Bond," he answered quizzically.
James choked on his gulp of coffee and stared at him, taken aback. Q grinned at him, heading for the stairs. Bond didn't move, and Q wasn't sure if he was just too shocked or if he was to teach on the ground floor. Probably both.
Q had to admit he was proud of himself. Usually rather discreet, he could be quite resourceful when the situation called for it.
"Well, have a nice day, Mr Bond. It was a pleasure to meet you."
He didn't leave time for James to answer and rushed upstairs to be on time. It wasn't as bad as he'd expected. His students were nice enough and no one commented on his youthful looks.
Q only had two classes on Mondays, one at eight in the morning and the other at three. He stayed at school to read his notes for the nth time and even got time to start reading a new book.
He took his lunch with Miss Moneypenny — Eve — a really nice girl everyone loved despite her being such a gossip. Q liked her too. She was kind and smiling and didn't even laughed at his real name when she saw it on the paperwork.
"Don't you think I'm too young to be a teacher?" Q asked while eating a muffin.
"Of course you're young but there's no such thing as too young. Have you been bothered by a student?"
"Not a student. Mr Bond — he expressed his thoughts about my age earlier today."
"Oh, c'mon Q, Bond's a grumpy old thing. He's just jealous because he's no longer the most gorgeous teacher at school."
Q rolled his eyes and shred the remaining of his muffin between his long fingers. It was always hard to take a compliment. He could hardly believe he was good-looking. He wasn't exactly struggling with his appearance but he did know that he wasn't the type to catch somebody's attention thanks to his physique.
He didn't have a perfect body, though he was aesthetically pleasant for anyone who paid attention. He was scrawny but there was something majestic in those lean legs, his visible backbone and slender neck. His dark mop of hair made him look even younger and his green eyes were half-hidden behind glasses.
He took a look at his lockscreen to check the time and apologised to Eve for having to leave her. The administration building was a beautiful building which looked like a museum. Her office was on the top floor, along with the Principal's office and a small library. The reception desk, the teachers' lounge and the main offices were all on the ground floor, while the teachers' were on the first floor.
Q went to the teachers' lounge to refill his travel mug with Earl Grey tea. Fate had to be against him because Bond was already there, using the kettle.
"If you're looking for the school playground, it's outside that building actually."
With that, he poured boiled water in a cup where he'd put a teabag. He put the kettle back on its base and looked at Q.
"You do know that bullies can actually be found on a school playground, so if you're gonna act like a dick, you should really be the one to go outside," casually answered Q who would not show any sign of weakness.
Bond opened his mouth to say something but eventually closed it when he didn't find anything snarky enough to retort. He sat on a chair and played with his teabag while it was brewing. Q thought it was utterly annoying. He wanted to scream "leave that poor teabag alone, for fuck's sake!" but he just stood there, owlish eyes staring at Bond's cup.
The history teacher noticed because he looked up and asked : "What?"
"Your teabag."
"What, my teabag?"
"Leave it alone for God's sake, you're offending everyone in this bloody country."
Bond laughed and took the teabag out of his cup. Q rolled his eyes and made water boil for his own cup of tea. He stood next to the kettle until it clicked. He could feel Bond gazing at his back. It was rather odd. Couldn't he stare at something else?
"Nice cardigan," Bond said before taking a sip of tea.
Q turned around to give him a surprised look. He was about to thank him when he noticed the sparkles of a joke in his blue, blue eyes.
"Oh. You're joking, right?" Q asked, a bit disappointed.
"Yes. Where did you find it? Your granddad's wardrobe?"
Q internally pouted and threw his teabag in the bin. It's a Dries van Noten, you stupid. He screwed the lid of his mug and answered sharply : "My granddad's probably younger than you." He slammed the door and left, a smug smile on his lips. Quite resourceful, indeed.
***
Q didn't have classes on Tuesdays and Wednesdays so he didn't see Bond for two days. He got news from Eve — she'd gave him her number — and even went out with her on Wednesday night. They had a nice time, though she tried to match him up with almost every stranger of the pub they went in.
On Thursday, he had lunch with Bill and Alec — the PE teacher. He learnt from Alec that James only had one class on Thursdays. Q allowed himself to relax. All his colleagues were nice people — if he could avoid pointless fights, it'd be all great. Though if he was completely honest with himself, he had to admit he missed his not-so-friendly banter with Bond. He wasn't really sure how to feel about it all. It was extremely satisfying to come up with good punchlines.
Next time he met the history teacher was on Friday. He was just getting out of a lesson when he runned into Bond. He was still wearing a suit — Christ, was this man fucking dressed to kill everyday? Q wasn't wearing a cardigan but his Margiela jacket under his duffle coat. He almost looked like a student.
"Morning, Mr Quincy," greeted Bond.
"Just Q."
"Morning, Mr Q."
Q rolled his eyes — what a fucker — and ran his fingers through his messy hair.
"How's teaching going, then?" Bond asked, leaning against the wall whilst students were running across the halls, chatting and laughing.
"Uh, fine, thank you," Q answered, desperately trying to avoid the older teacher's piercing gaze. "Got some plans for the weekend?"
"Ah, since you're asking, maybe you'd like to join me, Bill and Alec on our Saturday drinking night?"
"Oh, I don't drink." Q instantly regretted his answer when he saw the smile blooming on Bond's lips.
"We're not in America, you can actually drink when you're not twenty-one."
"Wow, my anti-aging cream really does wonders, perhaps I should give you some?" he hacked him off caustically.
Bond's face fell and Q bit his bottom lip, suddenly feeling really guilty.
"Listen, Bond, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you that, it wasn't nice at all…" he tried to apologise.
"Yeah, uhm. I was going to my class, actually."
Q's heart was pounding in his chest whilst he was trying to find a way to make it up to Bond. The man might not have been the nicest in the world, nor the subtlest, but Q knew he'd gone off limits. He couldn't find anything appropriate so he chose to be honest.
"I really am sorry. I don't think you look too old, and it was a really mean thing to say. Please, forgive me."
"Youngsters always speak before they think," he answered with a brow raised. "You know, there is this expression which says something like, spin your tongue seven times in your mouth before you speak. Let that be an example to you."
"Me and my tongue could do so better use of our time," Q answered playfully.
The look Bond gave to Q was a perfect replica of the face with rolling eyes emoji, which made Q giggle, and Bond even more desperate. Not my fault if you make it easy for me to reply.
"So, do your inventive ideas involve your tongue?" teased Bond who seemed eager to shut Q's dirty little mouth.
Why did it just made something twitch in his stomach? Nicely twitch? Bloody hell. Bond's lips looked nice. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Stop it, Q. He blinked several times, his eyelashes brushing the top of his cheeks, and licked his lips.
"My tongue, and so much more," he answered huskily.
Bond smiled devilishly and patted Q's arm. "I can't wait to see that." He winked and left Q as if nothing happened.
***
Q never showed up on Saturday night which was probably for the best. After his Monday morning class, he went back to the teachers' lounge to have a snack and make some copies of hand-outs. He kind of expected to find Bond there, which was the reason why he was not surprised to find him near the coffee machine.
"Mr Quincy, we missed you on Saturday night," Bond smiled whilst taking his cup.
"It's Q," Q gritted between his teeth. "I had some other plans, and I'm sure you had lots of fun without me."
"Why do you insist so much on being called Q?"
"It's a thing, don't ask me why. I've always been called that."
"Don't you have a first name?" Bond asked, bewildered.
"I don't use it," Q eluded, shoving the papers into his messenger bag, ready to leave.
"Tell me," Bond insisted, putting himself between Q and the exit door.
"Let me go." Q stiffened, uneasy, his hand tensed on the strap of his bag. "Please."
Bond made a sideway step, leaving him free to go, even if his curiosity was now thoroughly aroused. Ever since he'd seen the young science teacher, he'd wanted to capture him, to lure him into his trap, but Bond wasn't half as bad as he wished he was and nothing had gone as planned.
Q was uncomfortable. He'd lost his advantage on Bond, he'd let him see his vulnerable side. At least, he had managed to escape that odd situation — what the hell was Bond's problem, being so cryptic? First making fun of his age, then flirting with him, and now being a control freak. Q shook his head, heading out towards the park. Maybe some fresh air would help him calm down a bit and stop overthinking.
Summer was coming to an end — green, lush leaves turning to shades of orange. Even the air felt cooler — Q was glad he was wearing a parka. Someone sat next to him on the bench — he didn't even have to turn his head to know it was Eve. He'd recognised her familiar perfume.
"Hey Q," she said with a smile. "How are you today?"
"Hello Eve," he greeted. "Quite fine, despite Bond's bad temper. How are you?"
"Christ, what happened with you two again?"
"What do you mean, again?" Q was about to lost it already.
"I mean, I know, for Friday."
"What do you know about bloody Friday?" he asked, on edge.
"Hey, calm down, kitten," she chuckled. "Alec and Bill can't stop cackling about how you flirted with James in the hall."
"Jesus, I didn't flirt with him! He started it with this tongue thing and —" he glared at Eve, asking for help, but she was enjoying herself way too much to help poor Q out. "For God's sake, how did Alec and Bill even learn about that?"
"James got wasted on Saturday night and explained it all to them," she answered with a Cheshire smile on her lips.
"Do you know if he said something else? Anything else?"
"Why?"
"Please, Eve, just answer me."
"No, I don't know." She pouted and put her hands on her thighs. "Now, will you tell me what happened with him this morning?"
"Nothing," he snapped.
"Christ, I won't go through the year with you two acting like sodding teenagers! Please ease that sexual tension as soon as you can, for everyone's sake."
He choked on his own saliva and stared at her, taken aback. Was it really what she thought? What everyone thought? He was so fucked. So, so fucked. His first week of being a teacher — ever — and here there were rumors that he should bloody shag the beautiful, blue-eyed history teacher.
"I'm not fucking James Bond, not now, not ever."
"Well, you might want to let him know, then."
***
After that, Q decided that focusing on his work was in his best interest. He avoided the teachers' lounge and ignored most of Eve's texts. He only came to school to deliver his lessons and prayed not to see Bond in the halls. It worked for three months and made Q feel more alone than ever, but at least he had his cats to cuddle when he came back home.
He had always been quite a loner and had never really felt at ease amongst people. He preferred the quietness of his home, the cool noise of computer keys and the soft whistling of the kettle.
He was about to leave to take the tube when Alec Trevelyan called him from afar.
"Hey, Alec."
"Jeez Q, I've been trying to see you for weeks, where have you been?" He was frowning, and Q suddenly felt like a child being scolded.
"I was busy with class… and stuff. Sorry, it has nothing to do with you."
"Is it because of James?" he asked, breathing heavily — he'd been running to catch Q before he left. "Man, I know he can be a jerk, but he likes you."
"Why are you all telling me about James? I don't care about him. I'm doing my job, and I have my life, and that's it. Why are you all making a fuss about bloody James?!"
Q was hyperventilating and though he could feel his cheeks flushing, it didn't help him not turning crimson red. He didn't know if he was mad or embarrassed or something else but he suddenly felt very conscious of all the feelings James had roused in him these past few weeks.
"Q, listen — I'm sorry. Please, hang out with us tomorrow night? I promise James will behave."
"Another time, perhaps. I have other plans I can't cancel."
"You won't avoid us forever, Q."
"Feels like Eve's talking," Q laughed.
"She keeps talking about you, you know. She's worried."
"Tell her I'm fine."
"No, you tell her."
"Right," he sighed. "See you Alec."
He turned around and finally left, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he shouldn't be so damn anxious about everything but he just couldn't help it. He didn't know if he was ready to see James. Last time he'd seen him, he'd had the unpleasant impression of being hunted and he certainly would not be another trophy on Bond's scoreboard.
***
That was the sentence flashing in his mind when he fell on his knees, one week later, in Bond's office. I don't want to be another trophy, I don't want to be another trophy, I don't want to be anoth-
His mind was suddenly shut down by warm, greedy lips on his, and he wondered how this happened, how he went from completely ignoring James to being in his arms, all flushed and longing for his kisses.
He knew this was wrong yet it felt so right, even more as James held him up in his arms to make him sit on the desk. It felt like a fucking fantasy, all the stationery flying to the floor, his clothes almost ripped from his body, and those languid, heated kisses that turned his heart upside down.
"Perhaps now is time to show me the tricks of that tongue of yours," whispered James against his lips, soft smile and soft hands ghosting over Q's ribs.
"I'm not sure you earned that privilege," Q smiled before pulling him closer for another kiss.
Bond stiffened in his arms, and tried to make his kisses more gentle. Q didn't understand this shift in the state of mind of the older man and looked at him with puzzlement in his pale, green eyes.
"You deserve so much better, Q."
Time stopped, they both were looking into each other's eyes, their breaths steady — more or less — and Christ, Q wanted him even more.
"My name's Ariel," he whispered faintly, and James held him in his arms, fingers tangled in his dark, messy hair.
"Why did you tell me?"
"I wanted to trust you. Why do I trust you, when I know nothing of you?" asked Q, voice barely a whisper.
"You should know, the minute you walked into this school, I wanted to seduce you, capture you, but truth is you got me first, you enthralled me with your delicate beauty and your sharp words, and I know I sound cliché and I'm too old and I'm a bit of an asshole, but I want to try to be good to you."
"You don't even know me."
"Let me know you, then."
"May I remind you that I'm sitting on your desk, half-naked, and that you were ready to know me in the biblical sense?"
"I'd like more than that, if you allow me."
Q smiled and kissed him hard, because he didn't know what else to say. James held him tighter, probably leaving a few bruises here and there, murmuring promises between each kiss, each thrust, and Q had never felt so loved before, science teacher losing all its logic and common sense in the strong arms of the history teacher.
Eve had been right, in the end, but he certainly wouldn't tell her. Or she would see it by herself, depending on how his relationship with Bond would evolve. For now, he was floating on a cloud of pure bliss, perfectly relaxed in James' arms, chill sunlight playing with the planes and curves of his face.
"Thank you," whispered Bond in his neck.
"What for?"
"For giving me a chance when I've been a total jerk to you."
"I've been a jerk too, so we're even."
Q smiled softly, a flash of pain in his chest, because James was too beautiful and too fierce and he wondered when he would finally end up breaking his heart into million of pieces.