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Q had not intended to snoop. It had truly been an accident. After James had sent him inappropriate texts on his MI6 authorized phone, which had accidentally included Moneypenny, Tanner and M, Q had gotten both of them private phones, not paid for by MI6. They both still had secrets, and they both knew it. Part of that was because of their jobs, spies for MI6 were necessarily careful with information. Or at least Q was. But part of it was also just who they were, which perhaps was a circular statement, as it was likely the reason they were both spies and worked for MI6 was because by nature they were secretive and private. Or at least Q was. James just liked to blow stuff up and shoot things. Therefore when Q set up their private phones, he truly did intend to give James privacy. Thus when he accidentally downloaded the photos from James private phone, having grabbed it by mistake from the table thinking it was his, he immediately closed the file. Except he had already seen the first few photos. He tried to ignore them. These were pictures James had taken and hadn’t chosen to show to Q. Q tried to respect that. Except that they were pictures of Q. For three days Q ignored the file. He had even moved the file to the recycling bin on his computer. But something stopped him from deleting it permanently. He pulled the file back to the desktop and let it sit there. His curiosity getting the better of him. He did his best to ignore it, working on the report Tanner asked him for last week which he was finally prioritizing. But his eyes kept slipping back to the file icon on his desktop. Taunting him in the upper left corner. He slid it to the middle of the desktop and reopened the document for Tanner, the icon now hidden. But it didn’t matter. He knew it was there. He got up and made tea, and found biscuits. He made a shopping list. He ordered three new cardigans from his favorite online store, knowing James would hate the colors. And then he finally gave in and clicked it open. Q’s eyes went wide. The first three pictures he had seen were only the first three of hundreds. There were seemingly random pictures of various things. A dog on a street corner in Mumbai. A number of pictures of the cats in various precarious situations. Really, it was mostly Benji in precarious situations, he realized as he scanned the pictures with a smile. The odd picture of a beer bottle, apparently a label to remember one he liked. Airport parking lots marking the location of the car. But most of them were of him.
James had made a collection of photos of Q, catching him in quiet moments, when he didn’t know James was even paying attention to him. A lot of them were photos of Q asleep. His wild hair disheveled and spread across the pillow. Q had never seen himself like this before. He slowly scrolled through the pictures recognizing different moments and different locations. James had taken a picture of him curled on the couch, blanket pulled up around his shoulders, Ellie curled up behind him. Another of Q working in his office. His back to James. His shoulders were curled forward, he looked tired. There was a photo of Q’s steaming tea mug on his desk, the wafts of vapor trailing up towards Q’s elbow just barely visible in the corner of the picture.
There were a lot of pictures of just parts. Parts of Q. Q in isolation. An ankle peeking from beneath the sheet, his toes relaxed as his foot dangled from the bed. The back of Q’s neck, the vee of the nape where his hair came to a point, he reached up subconsciously to run his fingers through his hair. Another picture of Q’s fingers. Typing on his keyboard. The tips of his fingers poised over keys, the pinky finger of his left hand on the letter a as his thumb pressed the space bar. There was a picture of Q’s toothbrush, the bristles always slightly worn, because Q had a tendency to walk around the house chewing on it when he was brushing his teeth and got distracted. Q smiled when he saw the picture James had snapped of his sock drawer. All his colorful socks rolled into little balls and in separate compartments. Why had James taken a picture of his sock drawer? And then there were the pictures James had clearly taken when Q had fallen asleep after they had worn each other out. The red flush on Q’s cheeks and chest still coloring his skin as he lay relaxed on the bed, one hand tangled in his own hair. There were pictures of his arse, one with nail imprints on his hip. Q remembered that particular evening and felt his cheeks start to flush. Then there was the picture of James’ hand. Q would recognize those shorter, thicker, stronger fingers anywhere. Q blinked twice when he realized why James had taken the picture, evidence of sex glistening white across James’ fingers. “James,” Q whispered quietly in surprise, his heart speeding in response to what he found. Pictures of Q’s ribs, James’ hand resting on his skin. The tattoo below his ear of James’ bite mark. The purple marks from other love bites, scattered here and there. Q’s chest, the brown disc on one pectoral muscle obvious. Q sighed, scrolling forward, and then back. Beginning to find patterns. And then he noticed date stamps. Q opened the calendar on his desktop, which marked James’ missions. There was always a flurry of pictures dated the night before, or the morning of every mission. James’ taking pictures before he left. “They keep me going when I’m away. They remind me of what I’m coming home to every time.” James said quietly, now standing behind Q and looking over his shoulder. Q’s fingers startled, flexing stiffly and he sat up straighter, his breath catching in his throat, he didn’t turn around. But he swallowed hard before speaking. “I’m sorry James. I didn’t mean to…”“It’s okay.” James answered before he finished. “No, I’m sorry. These weren’t for me to see.”“But they are of you, you have a right to know I have them.” Q turned around. “I didn’t have any idea.” “Does it bother you?”“No, of course not. I’ve just never seen myself like this. I didn’t know…” “I like having you with me. I like having pictures of you, that are only for me.” “Have I ruined what they mean now that you know I’ve seen them?”James furrowed his brow and took a breath, his chest rising quickly before he exhaled. “No.” “You took these before you left for every mission.” “Yes.” Q was quiet. “Because if something happened, I wanted the last picture to be of the last time I saw you.” “James.” “I didn’t want them posed. I didn’t want you to change your behaviour. I wanted it to just be you, as you are when you don’t know I’m watching you. But I’ll stop…”“You don’t have to stop. I don’t mind.” Q stood and reached for James’ hands. James had dropped his eyes to the floor. “Bloody hell, you just make me feel more and more loved with everything you do,” Q offered, his voice breaking with surprised emotion. James raised his eyes to Q’s and searched them quickly, reading them before saying quietly, “I do love you.” “I know.” Q smiled. “I love you too.” James smiled and leaned in to kiss his boyfriend. Gently pressing his mouth to Q’s, until Q gave way and let James inside to steal his breath. “James…” Q said when he finally pulled back. “What?” James asked, his hands sliding down Q’s spine to pull their hips together. “Are you disappointed with my cock?” Q said quietly, not looking at James directly.“What? Why would you ask me that? No, of course not.” James answered. “Okay.” Q sighed, nodding, before biting his bottom lip, his forehead dropping to rest on James’ shoulder in embarrassment. “Q?” James stepped back, reaching for Q’s shoulders to push him back a step.“It’s just… I think you’ve got a picture of every single part of me in your photo stream. You’ve even got one of the tendons on the back of my knee. But you don’t have a single one of…”“Of your cock.” James finished with a chuckle. Q looked at the floor. “It just made me wonder.” James reached for Q’s chin to lift, leaning in to place a peck to his lips. “That seemed like a line I shouldn’t cross without your consent” James answered him honestly. “Dick pics seem creepy when not offered by the owner.” Q laughed. “Seriously?” “Seriously,” James raised his eyebrows and nodded his head.“After all you’ve done, all we’ve done. All the ways we’ve… “ he paused, and shook his head. “So you’d be okay if I…” James smiled a little shyly. “You still want to take pictures of me? Even though I know now?”James nodded. “Unless you don’t want me too.” “No, no, it’s okay.” Q said. “Any part of you?” James looked at him for clarification. Q raised one corner of his mouth as he smiled. “Any part you want,” Q nodded. “But you’ve got to promise me you’ll destroy your phone if you are ever at risk of losing it. The idea of anyone else…” “I promise.”