Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

- Venice 1990 –

James Bond welcomed the cool ocean air on his deeply tanned skin. It was a scorching ninety-degree weather under the bright sun while he was speeding on the roads of Venice. Three armored vehicles were on their way to deliver a highly explosive compound that could wipe out a small city. James tore through the streets on a Ducati stolen from the hideout of a dangerous arms dealer. He carelessly weaved in and out of traffic with the help of his partner, Tiago Rodriguez, guiding him through his earpiece. Several armed men aimed their Uzis at the motorcycle but with James’ tactical instincts kicking in, they couldn’t even graze the agent. The chase ended with a body count of fifty-two and two anti-terrorist units were deployed to the crash scene. James nonchalantly waited with a titanium suitcase filled with the explosive compound.

After a short debriefing, both men made it back to their hotel. The location was beautiful; their luxurious suite overlooked a spacious garden and the endless ocean horizon. It’s a shame they had to leave for London the next day. Rarely did they have any down time and at best a weekend at James’ flat with laptops and phones turned off. Tiago recently became a double-oh agent and their time together grew less and less. He was happy for the older agent; a title well deserved. James’ internal musings ended when he heard the doors fly open and a very handsome Spaniard entered his suite.   

“Where have you been?”

“Out.”

“Out where?”

“I don’t need to tell you everything,” Tiago playfully replied as he walked straight to their bedroom. He grabbed a dress shirt and some aftershave, obviously excited about something. James’ interest peaked when Tiago refused to explain his mysterious behavior, dressing up for a special event. There was never a dull moment with his partner. It had been three years since M brought the arrogant prick wearing a dark red pinstripe suit to MI6. He was playing with the back curl of his slicked back hair. His deeply set eyes found James', sizing his game up. Never in the history of England, they had hired such a narcissistic, self-boasting, conceited man to save the country.

Their first kiss was in Istanbul. James was in hot pursuit of an assassin on unstable scaffolding of an old abandoned building. The assassin made one fatal error and fell on an old floorboard but not without dragging James with him. It was the closest experience he had ever had with death. The young, shaken agent was sitting in a bar that very night, getting loaded on whiskey straight up. Tiago managed to pry the agent from his stool before he could do further damage. James leaned against the concrete wall of a back alley on their way to their hotel. James let his hair grow out a bit, the five-inch length folded over handsomely but his hair never touched his collar or M would have his head. His eyes met Tiago’s. He moved in closer and James felt his pulse quickening. There was something in those deep maroon-like eyes and he knew exactly what it was. James was considered the quite the womanizer among his peers and his sexual exploits were legendary. But Tiago saw right through that facade. He was gentle, brushing his lips lightly against his. He slightly hesitated; offering James a way out if read the signals wrong. He didn’t and James leaned forward to deepen the kiss. The rest was history.

“You’re certainly cheery. May I remind you we have to fill out a full report and have it on M’s desk at 0800 hours.”

“Not to worry my dear, it’s already done. Let’s enjoy the rest of the night, yes? Now, are you ready to head out?”

“Head out where?” James frowned a bit, wanting to enjoy the rest of night alone with Tiago.

“Oh... just a place of my choosing. It’s a surprise.”   

/////     

“Where are you taking me?” Tiago lead James into a secluded section of the elaborate garden on the hotel grounds.

“Do you have to ask so many questions? Don’t you trust me?”

“Not when you’re being this mysterious. It usually leads to trouble.”  

He entered an open space within the short garden maze. There was an older man standing with a book in his hand. He greeted him with a warm smile as James attempted to solve the puzzle of Tiago’s surprise. Then it dawned on him. Of course, the little hints and suggestions, the random questions of inclusiveness, and the frequent use of the word “amor”.    

“Make me a decent man, James! We cannot live in sin anymore!” Tiago dramatically placed his hand over his heart.

James sighed, “always the romantic.” He stepped closer to face Tiago, looking at the makeshift altar. He couldn’t believe he was considering this but he didn’t know who he’d rather spend the rest of his days with. But getting married was insane even for Tiago’s standards.   

“Seriously, the joke is over.”

“It’s no joke! I know this is all very sudden but with every mission we go on... well, it could be our last. Make it a promise to me.”   

Tiago pulled out two mismatched rings from his pocket, giving one to James. James threw him an odd look. Tiago’s ring fit his personality perfectly. The golden band with a diamond embedded at the center was a bit more adventurous, but nothing too flashy. His own was a tungsten band with strikingly appealing platinum strip in the middle. Tiago knew his taste in accessories, though very seldom James wore them, and the rings couldn’t be any more perfect.   

“So they don’t suspect MI6’s leading man is officially taken by another agent. It’ll be our little secret.”

Upon further inspection, James made an observation. “The ring is too big for me.”

“I thought of that too. You're not going to put it on your ring finger, it’s going on your thumb. It’s trendy these days. Now let’s not waste any more of the poor gentleman’s time and allow him to start the ceremony.”

After James’ initial discomfort, he accepted Tiago’s insistent hand. No vows were exchanged. They didn’t need them. Considering the lifespan of the average agent, James could understand Tiago’s need for stability. Honestly James wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have Tiago’s support. His mind ventured to dark places in which only alcohol and painkillers would’ve numbed the pain. But Tiago filled the void with understanding, empathizing with the agent’s trials and tribulations. Even offering a friendly rivalry to keep James on his toes.  

After the heartfelt ceremony, Tiago ordered room service that ran up near the thousands. He argued that special occasions happen only once in a while.

“Tell that to M when she foots us the bill.” James replied back.

“The old bitch could live a little. Besides, it’s a new perk that comes with the double-oh status.” Tiago smiled as he poured champagne into two flute glasses.       

James came up from behind, wrapping his arms around his husband and kissing the back of his neck. Tiago leaned into the embrace. James smiled into his neck.  

“Someday... I want to retire. Somewhere tropical and hopefully before we’re forty. And-”

“Before we’re forty? James, that isn’t too far away.” Tiago interrupted.

“We can’t keep doing this. I never planned on being a double-oh agent well into my forties. This afternoon, I jumped from a five-story building and barely made it to the other rooftop. I don’t think I can make that jump in ten years. I’m just thinking about the future, that’s all. And I still want my body functioning and I want to spend it with you.”

“I’m not sure if agents like me get a happy ending to their life story. I don’t want you to get…” Tiago walked away from James’ embrace. It scared him considering how James depended on his presence for normalcy and affection.   

“Hey, look at me. I'm fine. We’ll take it day by day. It’s all we can do.” Tiago didn’t have the heart to voice his concerns. James was still young and haven’t yet experience the high-risk stakes of being a double-oh agent. But James was filled with promise and he was working through the ranks just as fast as he did.

Tiago turned around and gave James a quick kiss on his lips.

“Enough serious talk. It’s time that we consummate our marriage.” Tiago winked as he strolled over to the bedroom. James happily tagged along.

- Fethiye, Turkey 2012 -

The crowd was gone and a drunk was left alone with a trapped scorpion underneath the glass prison. After that he would stumble back to his lover’s home without saying a word. He knew she deserved better but she didn’t say no. None of the women in his life cared enough to tell him to stop his destructive behavior, not even M. So he continued on drinking and taking whatever mission M threw at him. He wouldn’t admit it to himself but he couldn’t stand to be alone or without purpose. The loneliness left his mind hungry for better days. Days spent with the only person that truly understood him.    

The pain in his right shoulder prevented him from doing his normal workout routine, not that it mattered anyway. He was dead to MI6 and wouldn’t be taking on any more missions for the time being. The local doctor prescribed him cheap painkillers that made him feel somewhat normal and able to sleep without the dreams. Tiago was still alive and well in his nightmares. They were often filled with images of Tiago strapped down to a table, having the unthinkable done to him before he died.

M delivered the news to him in her office. He didn’t even flinch, only gave a sympathetic nod. When M dismissed him, he went directly to the storage room to vent his overwhelming devastation and grief.               

Even in his drunken splendor, he noticed the same man sitting across from him. He was in the same seat for the second night in a row without any company. Was he a regular patron at this bar? Highly unlikely judging by his clothes and the lack of social interaction with the locals. And when they made eye contact that was all James needed to take action. He stood up abruptly from his seat and left a bill for his drink. Luck was never on his side; he drank more than usual. If there was going to be a fight, he hoped there would be only one to deal with.   

He made his exit. He hastily turned around the corner with his hands in his pockets, waiting for the ambush.  Once he felt the tight grip on his right shoulder, he briefly flinched before counter-attacking. These guys knew about his bullet wound.

He grabbed the man’s hand and twisted his thumb, causing the man shout in agony. But what James didn’t plan on was his shortness of breath and his slight dizziness from the alcohol. Three more men appeared from the alley on the left. James inwardly groaned. Three men, around 250 pounds each and at least 6’1 approached him with fists ready. Bond didn’t feel the first hit to his rib cage. He went down hard on the asphalt road. He tried getting up, to die with his boots on, but a knee and two hundred plus pounds of force grounded him hard against the ground. Another one grabbed the agent’s arms and tied them together. As a finishing touch, a black hood went over his head.

“Relax, we don’t want to kill you, double-oh seven.”

He twisted with all his strength but he knew he it was pointless. They lifted him up from the ground a placed him inside a black unlicensed vehicle. It would hours before he saw another face and hopefully James would be sobered up by then.   

///

Raoul Silva couldn’t ignore the sudden anxiety gripping his chest. He was only mere moments away from seeing a ghost that has been his bane of his existence for the past ten years. He felt the anger, hurt and betrayal igniting the surface of his skin. He couldn’t wait to see his face; to see his broken down soul inside those beautiful blue eyes. Considering where his men picked him up, it wouldn’t take much to break him down, to reduce him to nothing more than the mess he created during the past ten years. The elevator stopped and doors slowly opened.    

He wanted James Bond and M dead but not without them suffering first. He had a plan for the both of them; ten years in the making.

He was sold out to the Chinese and it took more than the will of M to do so. James’ plan was perfect, he held him so close that night he left for Hong Kong. It was supposed to be a short mission.    

“Welcome, Mr. Bond.”

James didn’t bother to look up. He figured it was another arms dealer whom he wronged years prior. He didn’t make alliances in his field of work. Nobody did. But he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction in humoring him. When James didn’t respond to his greeting, he felt a powerful fist below his rib cage from one of his guards. Struggling to recover his breath, he still refused to utter a single word.    

His unresponsive behavior only made Raoul angrier. He was a mess and disgrace to the man he once was.

“You’ve decided to a more passive approach? I’m disappointed. I heard you have a mouth on you.” Raoul then smiled.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” said James, breaking his silence, “but I’m no longer an agent anymore. If your vengeance is directed towards MI6, you have the wrong man.”

Even though years had passed by, Raoul was surprised he couldn’t piece together his identity. Blond hair and blue contacts didn’t drastically change his appearance but perhaps he had forgotten. Easy to forget when it meant absolutely nothing to him; he was just another mission. The mere thought had him grip the Bowie knife hidden on his left side.

“I don’t think so. My feud is with M and it so happens that you’re her favorite; her most loyal servant. And what better way to punish M’s sins than to destroy her favorite son but business first. You have information.” James couldn’t see the syringe hidden in the palm of his hand.

“Remember your training now?” Raoul turned around, syringe in hand, walking towards the tied up agent. James never broke eye contact; he won’t give him the satisfaction. The man laughed and said, “I’m afraid it won’t save you this time.” James closed his eyes once he felt the thick needle pierce his skin.

////

- London 2002 -

Tiago arrived late to their two-bedroom flat. He slowly closed the door, exhausted from the 80-hour week he put in at MI6 headquarters. Tiago knew James would be up for promotion, finally becoming a double-oh agent. He wasn’t sure if he should be happy or terrified considering the amount of work and mental exhaustion he had been going through. James walked into the living room, still wearing his suit from this morning. He looked incredibly handsome and if he had the energy, he would’ve attacked him right then and there.  

“I’m leaving for Hong Kong early tomorrow morning. New orders from M.” Tiago tiredly said. James couldn’t stop the slight frown from appearing on his face. The tired agent made his way to their bedroom, putting his keys and wallet on the dresser.

“There’s a possibility that I won’t be here when you get back. I have a mission in the States in about three days.”

A long silence passed, neither of them daring to state the obvious. They missed each other. It had been weeks and they had only seen each other a handful of times.

“I’m working on something.”

“What is it?”

“Something that will allow us to retire early. Consider it an early anniversary present.”    

“I don’t like this.” James stood up, walking over to the bathroom. Tiago quickly learned that his partner would preoccupy himself when something when he was emotionally distraught. He wasn’t a man of many words.  

“You’ve been more and more reclusive as of late.” James said as he lathered up his shaving cream.

“I’m doing it for us. These past few years have been hard on us. These missions are getting more and more careless and dangerous. I barely escaped the last one. I want this trip to China to be my last. I’m going to resign my position as double-oh six when I get back.”

James hid his unease; it was never that easy to leave MI6. He wasn’t sure why Tiago believed in this fairy tale ending of them riding off into the sunset. They both knew the sacrifices and consequences. They reaped the benefits of a luxurious lifestyle and a multi-million dollar flat.   

“You’ve been talking about last missions and retirement for a while. I know that was a wish of mine a while back but sometimes we have to face reality.”

“Just trust me James. I’ve got this. I’m so close.”

“Okay... okay.” He held Tiago in his arms, not knowing when he would be back from his mission. James couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in his chest. Tiago was a man of control and dominance but he had never seen him like this. He always had his secrets and he figured it was his way of keeping their relationship mysterious and exciting. Tiago would never let those secrets destroy their relationship and confrontation never ended well with Tiago but he trusted him.

Tiago grabbed his waist and pulled him closer. He couldn’t get this close to his amor without feeling possessive lust coursing through his body. Tiago’s lips lightly tracing Bond’s jawline, which earned him a stutter from the agent.  

“I don’t know when I’ll be back. But let’s end the night on a good note.” Tiago whispered in his ear. He roughly cupped the back of his neck and pulled him into a searing kiss. James maneuvered him to the edge of their bed. He kneeled down between his legs, freeing his lover from the tight confines of his trousers.

Tiago was lost in the warmth of his mouth. He could feel his climax building so quickly; he wouldn’t dare to show it in front of James. But no doubt Bond felt him pulsating underneath his tongue.  Finally and with mercy, James released him.

He dropped his pants in one swift motion. He looked incredible as he promptly straddled Tiago’s lap, working himself open. He never broke eye contact; Tiago preferred to see his stunning blue eyes while pleasure overtook him.     

"I love you," James whispered. He lowered himself, filling himself completely. Tiago moaned as he set the pace with slow thrusts.  The sheer pleasure was almost too much for either of them to take. Tiago would never tell him how truly afraid he was about his next mission. He would never tell him about his odds of success were slim to none and he had been venturing outside MI6’s territory. He promised to set limits to his latest exploits for the sake of James but this mission would be his last.

They both climaxed together in a blissful embrace. Tiago held on to his husband, hoping China would be his swan song to his career as a double oh agent and the start of a new life with James by his side.   

////

- Unknown 2012 -

James was lying on the bed; drugged, unconscious, and utterly vulnerable. It would have been so easy to kill him. To cut his throat and let his blood to soak the white sheets, staining them with its rich color, letting the coppery smell impregnate the whole room. An infinite prove of his revenge.

Yes, it would have been so easy, but Raoul needed more. He needed to see James, the perfect double-oh agent, the most precious of MI6 assets ruined, humiliated, and broken for good before to send him back to her. It would be a message that would scream loud and clear that he knew who betrayed and sold him.

James was floating in a sea of nothingness and chaos under the influence of the powerful hypnotics. His body was trained to resist most of them, but it seemed that the crazy man found something new to give him. Silva was an interesting challenge. The last few villains whom he faced were too dull and dense to represent a real threat. But he liked the place where the drugs put him. He could almost forget about the man who kidnapped him and the danger that was looming over M’s life. Gone was his drive to give a damn about honor or country. He lacked any personal relationships with the people he knew and only Q had ever come close to be considered a friend. But through the haze of memories, Tiago was there, smiling back at him. Tiago with his sardonic smile turned genuine only for James. His dark hair always perfectly done, and his chocolate eyes staring back at him with affection and endearing love. Tiago, his husband, still alive.

Raoul's attention was lost once again. Lost in the hell of his memories, in the long nights spent thinking about his lost love. The one he thought he knew, the one he thought loved him back. He was lost in the past. Reliving the moment when he realized he was abandoned and betrayed by his own family and by his beloved James. They left him to rot in the hellhole cell for five months. He was so lost that almost missed the broken whisper that sounded as a prayer.

“Tiago.”

A name long forgotten that Raoul almost didn't recognize it. He whispered the name with such longing and conviction; it stirred something in his chest that he hadn’t felt in years. The blond man slowly sat down next to James on the bed and waited. He waited to hear that name once more from the lips of the inebriated agent. Moments passed before the name was uttered once more and again his voice was filled with emotion.

“Tiago.”

A whisper born from the deepest parts of his subconscious and still carried the guilt and despair he still felt in present day.

Raoul knew the new drug he administered to him was capable of making a strong man fragile as a kitten, forcing him to reveal his deepest darkest secrets. Even the ones he was trained to keep and protect with his own life. Silva was anxious to know the hidden information he obsessed over the past 10 years that no computer could obtain.

“Who is this Tiago, Mr. Bond?”

James cursed himself for saying his name out loud; the drug getting the best of him despite his training. Perhaps Mallory was right. He was getting too old for fieldwork. You’d either move up to a desk job or die on the field at MI6. He calmly took a breath, gathering strength to answer Silva and fight the pain that Tiago’s memory had always brought to his soul.

“That is a memory you can’t have...Silva.” He spat out.

Silva was glad his voice didn’t falter after asking the question. For years in a forgotten prison, he asked himself the same question. Who was he to James? Now, he would have a truthful answer to that daunting question.

Raoul Silva was a man ready for almost everything. He was a man born from the ashes of a broken soul. But James truly surprised him when he opened his blue eyes wide despite the powerful sedative and stared at him dead in the eye to say, “leave him alone...don’t…”

The drugs kicked in, leaving Silva with an unfinished sentence. Bond’s eyes had murder in them before he collapsed by his side and if looks could kill, he would be a dead man already. The reaction left Raoul more curious and confused.  

“Why, Mr. Bond! I thought you were a lady's man. Who is this Tiago you don't want me to name? A fuck-toy maybe?”      

He wanted to push James to the breaking point. He needed to hear the truth. The same truth he discovered long ago. But sometimes, what was left of his heart still made him doubt what was obvious. Raoul needed to hear that Tiago meant nothing to James. Only then he could bury his past and lay it to rest in its grave once and for all.

James growled and once again tried to attack Silva. If only he had the strength but the drugs kept washing over his defenseless body, making him feel like a caged beast for Silva’s amusement.

“Leave him... alone.”

He wasn't going to share his most precious and well-kept secret. Not with a terrorist who didn't have any right to tarnish Tiago's name. His blood was boiling with rage. Silva knew the right buttons to push.

There was a reason why Mr. Bond took every mission he wasn’t given, even if Q deemed them suicide. Tiago was his everything and he refused to tarnish his memory by allowing anybody into his flat they bought together. Tiago was the reason why no one else had ever slept in his bed in his flat. The only person he ever loved.

“Tell me now, Mr. Bond.”

The demanding voice was too much for the agent. His body and mind drifted into the abyss of nothingness as he let the words fall out of his mouth. Silva forced James to tell him, to answer the question, but he still hoped he could blame the drugs. He would have to till the day he died. Silva grabbed James’ chin, forcing the man to look straight into his eyes. He was getting restless and his patience was getting shorter and shorter with every passing moment.

“Who…” Raoul's left hand hold abruptly onto James short hair, hurting the scalp with his fingernails, “...is...” his right fingers left their prints on James’ jaw, “...Tiago?”    

He couldn’t keep his silence. Water began to form in his bloodshot eyes. He was beautiful and Raoul was going to ruin and destroy him. No matter how many men got to touch James. He was going to be the last one and James would know about it long before he was finished with him. Bond surprised him once again with a simple answer. The truth that hadn’t been spoken in years.

“He was my husband... he was stolen from me.”

Raoul felt his dark soul filling with rage and hate. The only problem was that he wasn't sure against whom he felt those emotions. For more than ten years, he was certain James was a part of the plot that delivered him into the hands of the enemy. And now, he wasn't sure anymore.

Was it possible that James was just as oblivious as he was about M’s plot of turning him over to the Chinese? That he never knew of the torture he had to endure during his imprisonment?  He needed answers. How could it be possible?  One of the core principles at MI6 was that no man or woman was to be left behind. He resisted the painful interrogation sessions in hopes that MI6 would save him. Five months passed and then he knew, it was a setup.

Raoul stared deep into the blue abyss of his eyes. The tears were flowing down over his beautiful face. He could see the absolute resignation and exhaustion on his face. Too many nights using alcohol and drugs as a means of an escape. James was on a path of utter destruction and no one was stopping him. The man that lied before him wasn’t the same man he left before he went to Hong Kong. In his eyes, there was a pain that James was never meant to survive that could be traced back to his childhood. The death of his parents, Tiago and Vesper weighed heavily on his shoulders and the weight was dragging him down.  James needed balance; he needed something to fight for.     

“Your husband?”

James could only nod. His throat was closed by the pain and shame to his submission, and his voice would have been broken by the tears he couldn't stop. James knew that well and didn't want to give Silva any more power than what he already took.

The rage filled Silva once again and he decided to vent it on his prisoner.  He needed to test his new theories out before deciding what to do next. He thought he had everything planned out in his mind. He planned to take down everyone who betrayed him. Then destroy everything they held dearest in this world. The current line of events would most certainly change those plans.

Not the kind of situation he liked to find himself in. He always had a backup plan, but he was a perfectionist and it took nearly a decade to plan his revenge. Silva's hands slipped around James's throat. He could feel the blood flowing through his veins. James' life was literally in his hands. He began to squeeze, tightening his fingers around the vulnerable flesh and he remembered what about James fascinated him when they first met.

After a few moments of struggling and fighting in the hands of his captor, James let his body relax. He let everything go and decided the best course of action was to stop fighting. But James started to answer to his true nature. Since the beginning of their relationship, Tiago was the only one who owned James’ submission; a side that no one else had ever seen nor would see.

“And tell me, Mr. Bond, how many time did you cheat on him?”

Raoul could see James' eyes getting suddenly clear and angry. He could feel his body try to fight again. The calm it reached only a few seconds ago was totally gone and already forgotten. In his desperate attempt to free himself James tried to bite Raoul, but was only able to reach the sleeve of his suit jacket, tearing it apart, and Raoul had to laugh, even if he was upset his suit was ruined.

“How? How dare you? What do you think you know? What do you think you know about me, and him, about what we had and we lost?”

James was screaming and trashing, still trying to free himself, without even realizing how quickly he was tiring his own body. In his rage he didn't see Silva's other hand disappearing into one of his many pockets, obviously looking for something there.

“It's a simple question. How many times did you cheat on him? With your story, Mr. Bond, no one is going to believe you never did.”

At those words James froze, still as a statue in the hands of an enemy who was a lot smarter than anyone he had ever met before and who really knew how to use his words.

James knew well what was into his classified file. He knew well what many people thought about him and about how many women he slept with during his missions. He also knew that he never was someone you wanted around for more than sex, or at least that was what some Minions had told Q once, when people began to think that the younger man had a crush on him, and that Bond was going to abuse his power to bed him.

After that they decided to keep their friendship a secret. But James could see why everyone was so worried about Q.

But after Silva's words James started to wonder if maybe Tiago too thought about him like that, if maybe even his husband thought he was able to cheat on the one he promised his loyalty and love forever. It was true that during the little time of their marriage James wasn't yet a double-oh agent, but he had his own undercover missions. Did Tiago ever think that he was cheating on him during those missions? A vicious hand made of pure ice grasped James’ heart and threatened to stop it.

What if Tiago doubted his love for him? More tears threatened to escape from his eyes and they got clouded and lifeless once again.

“Never... I never did... never.”

James was whispering to himself and he never felt the sharp pain of a needle entering the tender flesh of his neck, putting him to sleep, like he never felt the gentle touch of lips kissing his forehead, like he never saw the sad gaze in Silva's eyes.

Chapter Text

When James woke up he was alone. He was also tied to a chair, his arms secured behind his back, his wrists bound by leather cuffs impossible to loosen and his feet free to move. Not that he could do much with the little freedom he was allowed; the chair was bolted to the floor, and nothing could seem to move it anytime soon.

James looked around the room with his blue eyes, but the only thing apart from himself was a huge screen, almost as big as the one you can find in theaters, and he was forced to look at it even if his instinct was screaming at him that whatever he was going to watch was going to be bad, very bad.

“Mr. Bond, hownice to see you are awake. Silva'svoice was coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time because of the acoustic of the room, and James was pissed off by his inability to tell exactly where his enemy was. “I think I'm going to call you James. After all, we are going to be very close friends, James, and friends give each other presents. I have one for you and I really hope you are going to enjoy it as much as I enjoyed choosing it for you.”

A shiver of pure fear, one like James didn't remember to have felt since his first mission in war, ran through his body.

He wanted to scream, to beg Silva to stop that game already. He knew in the very core of his being that what the man was going to do was also going to change his life. He remembered his mother's voice, telling him about the bad omens so common in the Scottish culture, the bad spirits who never left the human world only to bring pain and sorrow to whom was still alive. And he could swear that the man talking to him was one of those spirits if not the Devil himself.

“I was curious, James, about what you told me last night. Such an intimate conversation we had. Don't you think? We were so close while you were telling me about your husband. So close that I could almost taste him into your memories. And I decided to show how a good person I can be even if you aren't ready to believe me yet...”

Tiago? Was he going to see something about his husband's last mission? Was it possible that Silva was somehow able to find videos that not even the Quartermaster in MI6 was able to find? Was he finally going to know how his Tiago died when no one ever had the courage to tell him the truth?

Too many questions where running into Jame's, hurting him, making him shake and shiver and taking him to the verge of tears. He was scared. He didn't want to know. What if Tiago suffered? What if he called his name when James couldn't hear him? What if he was left alone to die like too many good agents before and after him?

“I needed a lot of time to find this, James. I really hope you are going to truly appreciate all the efforts I put into your gift...”

Suddenly the lights were off and James was looking into what obviously was a prison. In a corner, that farthest away from what probably was the door was a man, even if maybe it was better to call him simply a body.

And an emaciated one, covered in bruises and cuts and burns. Every inch James could see was a mix of old and new scars, each one ofthem telling a story of pain and hell on earth.

James could feel his breath getting shorter. The fear was choking him. Tears were pooling into his eyes once again. He couldn't see his face, but he knew that body. Even so ruined and broken he knew that body.

Noises were present in the background. And when booted feet came closer to the door, the man moved, showing his face and eyes.

James Bond's mouth was wide open in a silent scream. All the horrors and deaths and destruction he saw in his years in the Navy and MI6 were nothing compared with what he was watching now.

He saw men coming into the cell, grabbing the prisoner and screaming questions at him. He could understand their language; Chinese. He was forced to watch those men hitting the prisoner on the face and chest with punches and kicks. He was forced to listen to their filthy mouths, promising even more torture and humiliations that night. He was forced to know what happened to the prisoners night after night in that cell.

James was still frozen in his mute scream when the guards let go of the prisoner and once again promised him they were going to come back for more.

There weren't tears in the eyes of the prisoner, in those eyes was nothing at all. They were lifeless and hopeless. The eyes of a man who lost everything and had nothing left to keep fighting for.

When James Bond thought that nothing could have broken his soul more, that nothing could hurt more than what he just saw, a flash of anger and resolution enlightened those empty eyes. With growing horror he saw the man's jaw tightening like he wanted to crash and break his teeth. The agent stopped breathing. Not his teeth. Just one, he realized. And suddenly his scream wasn't mute anymore. Suddenly the scream of the prisoner was covered by James' scream of pure anguish. Not even the pain of the poison burning its way through the prisoner's body, through Tiago's body,was strong enough to cover James'.

He screamed and screamed and screamed, begging Tiago to come back to him, begging a God who took everything from him to let Tiago live, to let him be all right, even if his mind knew that no one taking cyanide could possibly be. He screamed till his voice was broken and his throat so raw it was bleeding. He screamed until the last ounce of strength left his body. And then all that was left of James Bond, Agent 007,was a broken doll tied to a chair.

***

Raoul Silva was in a small room hidden from the scream itself. He knew all too well what he was going to show to James, what he really wanted to see, what he was interested in, was James' reaction. He was breathing hard, fighting a panic attack.

Only when he was sure his body was back under his control he left the room. His expensive Italian shoes made a calming noise against the concrete of the floor. His white tailored suit gave Silva the power and security he needed for his plan.

He was going to take James back by his side. He was going to break him so hard that 007 was going to die, only to leave James free to be his and his alone.

When he reached the chair the agent didn't even realize he wasn't alone anymore. His mind too broken and his body too exhausted to really care.

With a sharp blade and a firm movement he cut the leather that was keeping James in place, and when the only support the blond had was taken from him, his body fell on the ground like a worthless pile of rags.

Everything was ready to begin.

***

When Silva's men came to the room to take James away, the double-oh didn't even try to fight them. His mind was still gone, still in a Chinese prison with the only person he ever really loved in his life. He didn't care where they were going to take him, he didn't care if that was his last day on earth, if those were his last moments of life and he was going to be killed by nameless and faceless men. He already lost everything he had in his life, why to care anymore?

What James didn't expect was to be taken to a cell. Another prison he was forced to see in his life, but still a better place than what was Tiago's last “home”. The blond agent was pushed into the small room, and the door was shut behind him. The moment James was alone he fell on his knees and reached the farthest away corner, dark and smelling funny, like pain and blood and dust, and let his mind free to go to the happy moments he lived with Tiago.

They were on a beach. Spain. Tiago insisted they spent their holidays there. No one knew they were together, not even MI6. They went there separately. Tiago from Holland, after a very messy mission with too many double agents from supposedly friendly agencies and a too close call from death itself in the shape of a knife that almost cut his femoral artery. James from London. After a long debriefing with older agents who were only able to look at him like he was nothing because of his lower status, and who weren't happy when M openly showed that she trusted the younger man in the room more than she trusted her older double-oh.

But that was at least a week ago. That was part of their lives for when they would have been back being a double-oh agent and Mr Bond. For now they only were Tiago and James, and they were happy.

They were having dinner in one of the most expensive restaurants in Benidorm, enjoying the fish and each other's company when traditional music began to play and Tiago looked at James with bright eyes and a genuine smile on his handsome face.

“Quieres bailar, mi amor?”

Tiago never asked him, not in a public place at least, and for the first time James was unsure of what to do, self-conscious, that they were going to be the only male couple dancing and that all the eyes would be on them.

But the look in Tiago's eyes, and the smile on his lips enchanted James like the first time they met and the Englishman knew he wasn't going to deny his lover that little pleasure.

They danced for a long time, and James was right in his prevision, many eyes were on them. Some were watching them with hunger in their eyes, many ladies would have paid to have them in their beds, together, and some men too were watching the couple like it was on the menu. Tiago knew, and smirked at James, kissing him eagerly and deeply, pushing his tongue inside the younger man's mouth, tasting him, claiming his ownership on James for everyone to know that they were only allowed to watch and never to touch. James was his and his alone.

And James answered the kiss with the same force and passion, drinking Tiago's passionate noises of approval. He always loved it when James forgot about everything that was taught to him and simply be himself. And the hot, sensual creature he was holding in his arms, and kissing while they were still dancing was purely James.

The man was so lost in his memories that didn't even hear the heavy door of his cell opening, or the steps getting closer. He didn't notice the tailored hem of male trousers stopping right into his field of vision, until he was slapped, hard, and he tasted blood in his own mouth, probably from his split lip.

James'body reacted in the only way he knew, suddenly ready to fight his attacker, but Silva was faster, once again. He grabbed his shoulder, pressing his fingers into the scar that was still new, causing the damaged tissues to rip inside again, allowing the scraps of the bullet still inside his flesh to move, tearing James shoulder further apart. James tried to keep the screams from forming, but the pain was so total and excruciating that for a moment his mind stopped thinking about Tiago's cell and focused on the cell where he was now, on the man who was torturing him and yet he did more for him thatthe one organization he gave his life to.

“I don't like to be ignored, James. I thought we were past that...”

James didn't want to answer, he wanted to be left alone, he wanted the pain in his shoulder gone together with the man who was causing it, so he could lose himself in his past again, but it was clear that Raoul had other ideas in mind.

“What do you want?”

His voice was broken, his throat hurt and his mind just wanted to follow his body and break in a million pieces, so he could stop thinking as an agent and simply be a man. An agent, was he still one? Was it worth to lose everything? James always thought that to serve the Queen and Country was everything he could give to the world, certainly after he lost Tiago, and now, he found out that Tiago never died in a mission like he was told, but in a cell, tortured and humiliated and alone. After years while a simple number had been his entire world, James Bond had no idea what he was anymore.

“My dear James...” James couldn't stop from shivering. So much familiarity, so much intimacy in the way that Silva was saying his name, in the way he was invading his personal space. James felt like a caged mouse, and the snake he was sent to feed was too close to escape. “I simply want something back, after my present I think I'm allowed that.”

Silva's smile, so strange, too perfect and at the same time too unnatural, was too close to James, and while his instinct was screaming at the agent to put some distance between them, to be ready for the next attack, his mind wanted to know what the man wanted.

“But you see, I'm not the selfish monster that Mommy thinks I am. I want my present, James, but when I'll claim it, when I'll have it and I'll be able to call it mine and mine alone, you'll see that in taking that present I'm also giving you back your freedom. The possibility to get revenge on who hurt you, on who took Tiago from you.”

James was confused. He couldn't understand what it was that Silva wanted so much, that could be a present for him to claim and the key for James' own revenge. And revenge on what? There was more? Who sold Tiago, who let him in a cell to rot?

“What's that?”

All the fire in James was gone. He was so utterly tired. He was exhausted and broken, and didn't have strength for more games. He wanted a simple answer for once. So he focused his blue eyes on Silva's darker ones and waited.

Silva smiled and for a moment James thought that he knew that smile, that he had already seen it somewhere, but as fast as that thought was born into his mind it was lost once again.

“Oh my, you are so sweet James, when you are confused and lost. Like a puppy that only waits for a good owner to take him home... It's you. It's you I want. You'll be my present, and when I'll be done with you, you'll be ready to face the world as a new person... my sweet pet....”

Before James could react, Silva knew exactly what he was going to do, when pure hate and rage enlightened James' eyes, and the older man struck as a cobra, grabbing James's throat so forcefully that the air was slowly stolen from his lungs, until the man was unconscious and at Silva's mercy.

***

Raoul took his time. He watched James' unconscious body for a few moments before he started to slowly cut what was an offending veil from his perfect body. It had been so long, so long since he had seen the perfect body that once belonged to him and him alone, and Raoul wasn't going to wait longer to let his eyes at least claim it back.

There would be time in the future to claim everything of James again. For now it was enough if his eyes could drink that perfection again.

Raoul's intense gaze was stuck at James's hand for only a moment. The time to see that the ring, their ring, was gone. Taken by James himself or lost during a mission, that Raoul couldn't say, but he could tell about the rage that was waking up inside his chest.

He used more force than necessary to tear the stained shirt from James' body; the small buttons flying everywhere, breaking the stillness of the cell. To see the red lines where the seams had burned his skin gave Raoul a little satisfaction, but it wasn't enough yet. He wanted more. He wanted to punish James for so many reasons that he wasn't even sure he could explain all of them. He wanted to destroy everything that James was and make him a new man, a man belonging to him. Able only to follow his orders. A man who was going to need Raoul to survive in this world, and so willing to let that happen.

He was going to cut the undershirt James was wearing, without giving it even an ounce of attention, when his eyes caught the silver chain that disappeared under it. Since when took James to wearing jewelry? The only piece of that, that Raoul had ever seen on his body, was the ring he gave James in Venice.

Curious about the chain, Raoul almost forgot to enjoy the view of the scars that adorned James' chest. He almost forgot to register the ugly and still red one that almost ended his life not too long ago, and if he had to be sincere with himself, he already had plans for whom hurt his James like that.

Raoul took the chain from James's neck allowing the little light entering the cell from the open door to show a ring at the end of it. The metal was still warm from being close to James body and heart. While he was watching the little piece of metal, a new idea begun to form in Raoul's mind, and he put the chain into one of his trousers' pockets before finishing his job with James' clothes.

When he was done with that Raoul tied James' wrists behind his back with smooth leather handcuffs joined to a sturdy chain, together the two tools would be enough to keep James suspended without any possibility for him to get free.

***

This time it was a sharp pain forcing James Bond back to reality. His muscles were on fire. His damaged shoulder felt like it was tearing and bleeding all over again; and when his eyes won the fight against the mist that was making him almost blind, James understood why.

He was hanging from the ceiling, his feet a good 6 inches from the floor, and his back was already screaming from the strain of that position. James wasn't even surprised to realize he was naked like the day he was born. It was only when he realized that his chain was missing that he began to feel the panic rising from his soul. He couldn't have lost that ring too, it was the only thing that he had of Tiago and he would be dead before losing it without a fight.

But sadly Silva knew how to tie leather and chains, he knew how to make sure that not even a trained agent could break free easily. So in the end, all that James was able to achieve was to tear his muscles and shoulders beyond the point of excruciating pain.

***

Raoul waited patiently, for hours and hours, locked in his study, working at the many laptops and computers that he had in the room. A simple movement of his elegant fingers on the keys and men close to MI6 were killed and destroyed, their families in danger, their mouths shut. Men who had the total trust of the British Government were found guilty of high treason. Everything was chaos in England.

MI6 didn't know who to trust anymore, M didn't know who to trust anymore, and on top of that, her best agent was missing in action, probably dead because of her order, and without him she really was lost. That was clear by the time she was taking before to making her move. It was clear because of the fear that he could feel in the codes from the new Quartermaster, codes that were used only in great danger; the poor child didn't even know where to start operating in such conditions, and for a moment Raoul almost felt sorry for him. Then he remembered the rumors about the young man and his James, and how impossible it was that James Bond hadn't bed him yet, and the pity disappeared. It was time for that child to learn a few things about life. One; he wasn't as good as he thought, and two; James Bond was already taken.

Raoul only needed a few moments to enter his own codes, with such well hidden viruses strong enough to take down the whole English net if necessary, and to send them to MI6 disguised as a very well hidden GPS signal. Q branch would think they finally found a lead to him before realizing they literally opened their doors for him.

Once he was done with his toys and the chaos he could create, it was time for supper. If he was right James already missed food for more than 24 hours, but it wasn't time yet to feed him or give him something to drink.

***

James knew that his body was weak. He knew that he was paying for the days spent drinking too much and sleeping too little, and fucking everything that was willing to share his bed. Everything to forget M's words, and Tiago's absence. But now he was regretting everything.

If he had been in shape, like an agent was supposed to be, his muscles would have resisted longer. Now his only escape from the pain were his memories, but it was a dangerous game, to allow his mind to leave his body, was leaving himself even more exposed to whatever Silva had in mind; but after all, what other choice did he have? And at least escaping into his past allowed him to see Tiago.

A hotel room, James didn't even remember where. He only knew that it was luxurious, and beautiful. The bed was huge, covered in a silk, deep purple duvet. The pillows, so many he couldn't even be bothered counting them, were of the same shade. Everything in the room was warm and perfect.

Tiago was behind him, his hands under James' shirt, caressing his chest, playing with his nipples with sweet cruelty, tormenting them with his nails after he made them hard with the gentle touch of his fingers. James had such sensitive nipples, and Tiago abused that knowledge every time he had the possibility.

James could feel Tiago's hard cock, still clothed, pressing against his rear, and James couldn't stop himself from thrusting against Tiago, silently begging for more. He wanted his lover's skin against his own. He wanted, needed to feel Tiago all over his body. And Tiago knew that well. He knew how hungry James was, how he was starving for their closeness and their love making. He could torture James for hours, but not this time. It had been too long since the last time they were together. Too long since the last time he had James under his body, ready to do everything he asked.

James was pushed hard on the bed, and he fell face down, trying to catch himself by putting his hands in front of him, but he immediately realized his mistake when he felt Tiago's knees in the middle of his back, trapping him against his body the bed without any possibility to get free.

The younger man tried to trash and fight. He loved it when Tiago used his strength to block him on the bed, making him submit, but he never went down without a good fight, but in that position all James could do was to try to buck Tiago off of his back.

“Sssh. Calma. No hay ningùn lugar para ir. Me perteneces.”

James felt Tiago's hand in his hair. Too long, he always knew that, an easy target for his enemies to grab, but he loved the feeling of Tiago's fingers forcing him to bare his neck, simply using them as a leash too much, and it was exactly what happened. He felt Tiago's teeth sink in his flesh and couldn't stop a scream full of passion and pain.

The older man lapped slowly at the few blood drops he drained, and James was so lost in the sensations that he didn't even realize the moment that Tiago's hands reached for the zip of his trousers, forcing their way under the fabric, grabbing his cock with demanding fingers. James cursed loudly, but soon he was lost in another ocean of sensations. Tiago's callous fingers were tormenting the delicate skin of the head, scratching teasingly at the small opening already wet with drops of pre-cum, his whole fist closing around his shaft, dictating a fast rhythm that made James impossibly hard only to be suddenly left alone while Tiago worked his offending clothes off of his body.

“Tan hermoso, tan sin sentido, mi puta.”

James couldn't resist Tiago, speaking dirty words in Spanish into his ear, biting at the round lobe while his breath made him shiver. He needed that. He needed to be defenseless and open to his lover, and Tiago knew exactly what and how to give James during their times together.

Tiago was still clothed, but that only made James ever more excited. No-one ever knew that side of him, no-one ever knew how deep his need to be dominated was. Only Tiago, since the first time they met, uncovered that secret, the one that not even M with her clever mind could discover.

Tiago pushed two fingers against James' lips, pressing till the younger man allowed them access to his mouth, moaning like a well-trained whore.

“Remoje ellos, es la unica preparacion que se va a tener.”

James did what he was told, sucking Tiago's fingers until they were soaked and he couldn't stop a moan of disappointment when his lover took them back, leaving him empty. But the blond man didn't have time to voice a protest because Tiago pushed the two fingers deeply inside his unprepared body, forcing his muscles to surrender and open to his demands. Now, while his body was used, James' noises were of pure pleasure. “More... please, more... Tiago... please.”

His words didn't make sense, his mind too lost to his senses, all James could think about was having more and more of his lover, nothing else mattered. And Tiago, even in the apex of his sadism, knew that it wasn't the time to tease anymore. It was time to claim what was his.

Once again James felt empty, the feeling unwanted and almost painful, but it lasted only for the time that Tiago needed to free his own cock, and forcefully thrust inside James' body, going as deep as possible, claiming his surrender and pleasure and pain, everything that James got, it belonged to Tiago like never before.

***

Raoul was watching James from a hidden camera in the cell; he was trying fight the pain by escaping from reality, and that couldn't happen. He needed James to feel the pain, to feel everything that he was going to use, to have him distracted so soon was only going to make things a lot worse for both.

He gently stroked a velvety sack he was carrying in his breast pocket. It was time to begin showing James the beauty of submitting to pain and power all over again. It was time to break everything that M created inside 007, and claim every piece of the beautifully broken puzzle that was James Bond.

“James, trying to leave me alone already?”

Silva's voice was hard, almost carrying an anger that James couldn't understand, and it was more than enough to take him back from the safe heaven of his memories.

The man was dressed in a dark shirt and suit trousers. The jacket was gone, and the sleeves of the silken shirt were rolled up. It looked like he was ready for action, and James thought he knew exactly on whom that action was going to be taken. The only problem was that he had no idea about what Silva had in mind, but he was twisted enough to make sure it was going to be painful and degrading.

“Where is it? Give it back to me.”

James' first instinct when he saw the older man moving towards him was to try to move his body out of his reach, but he had to bite his lips until they started to bleed when the sudden movement almost tore a scream from his mouth. But he didn't care about the pain. He didn't care for the new scars that he was leaving on his own body. He needed his ring back at all cost.

Raoul knew what James was talking about. He had hoped for that reaction, in truth. But he wasn't going to give him back his ring. Tiago was a ghost between them, was what could keep James anchored to the past, and the past was long gone. Raoul needed James to understand that he only had the present to live, and the future to live as his pet. Nothing less, nothing more.

“I don't know what you are talking about, James. Why should I steal things from you? After all, you have nothing I want except for your body, mind and soul.”

James looked at him shocked. He couldn't read Silva, he couldn't say if the man was lying to him, or if he really didn't have his ring. But how could that be? He never lost the ring, not even during his worst missions, not even when Le Chiffre was torturing him.

“Please. Give it back to me. I'm begging you. Give it back to me.”

James didn't care if his humiliation was going to kill him later, he didn't care if he never begged his enemies, not even when he was beaten an inch from his death. The ring was the most important thing in his life, and he was ready to do everything to have it back.

Raoul would have been happy to see James beg already, but he knew it wasn't going to be that easy, he knew that as soon as the ring matter was solved James was going to be back to the stubborn man that was one of the best agents he ever met. He had to break James now that he had the possibility, because another opening like that wasn't going to present itself again anytime soon.

“I told you James, I don't have it. But I can question my men. I can see if somehow they stole it from you. But that's going to have a price, James.”

James nodded, he didn't even give Silva time to name the price. He was ready to do everything. He wasn't even shocked when the blond man took something from his breast pocket, opening it in front of him.

Inside the velvet sack there were needles. Broad and painful looking needles, able to leave everlasting scars, able to give pain and torment. So that was the price. Pain.

“I don't want to hurt you, James. Not more than necessary. But you are trying to escape. You are trying to deny me what's mine to claim. You are forcing my hand already, James, and now I'm forced to punish you...”

“I'm not yours to claim,Silva. I never was and never will be...”

“And why is that, James? Because of Mommy? Because of your loyalty to MI6 and England? Believe me James, the Queen doesn't care if you live or die. Where are they James, Where are your so called friends and family? You are here, alone, and they stopped looking for you months ago. They don't care if you are alive or dead. They only care that all their little secrets are safe.”

James didn't have answers for those questions, didn't have snarky remands for his insinuations, because in truth he wondered the same, but he couldn't let Silva use his own doubts against him. He needed to keep believing that a life spent saving his Country meant something after all.

“They don't care, James. As long as you don't go rough and don't start selling their secrets, as long as you are not a menace for them, they don't care about what happens to you. Do you know how many double-oh agents there are?”

James knew. He always knew that only 9 people in whole England got to be a double-oh. The only way to get one of those places was for an agent to die.

“Are you really sure that they didn't already give your title to someone else? Because James, they don't waste time. All of you, are simply cannon fodder for the men and women sat in posh studies in the Parliament. You are not different for them, it doesn't matter how long you served them as a good puppy. If you are useless to them, you are gone.”

Silva looked with a sad smile while James was trying to keep his temper in check, while the weight of his words bent his shoulders, making him look like an old man, too tired to keep going, but too proud to sit and rest.

“But I'm not like them, James. I can offer you everything they stole. You just need to accept to be mine, and I'll make everything OK again.”

James raised his head, looking Silva straight in the eyes. “No, you can't. No one can give me back what they stole. You can't give him back to me.”

That was true. Raoul knew that well, but he also knew that he could give James back so much more, a real owner, someone and somewhere to belong. Everything that James always needed, and that he couldn't have with his previous life.

“Remember. You asked for this.”

Raoul moved closer to James, and only stopped when he was in front of the man, invading his personal space. Between his fingers there was already a needle, and a sharp edged clamp, and James felt his body tense. He was used to pain, he kept telling himself that. He kept thinking about Le Chiffre and another kind of pain, but Raoul wouldn't have any of that.

He grabbed one of James' nipples between his fingers, and worked it until it was hard, trying not to put any feelings or emotions in the act. When he felt the little bulb hardening he quickly attached one of the clamps, and James felt that it wasn't a simple one. He could clearly feel the weight pulling at his flesh painfully. Silva knew how to give pain, and it was only the beginning.

Slowly Raoul repeated the same procedure with his other nipple. James could start to really feel the sharp pain of the metal cutting into his nipples, but that was nothing compared with the pain of the needles, pushed into his flesh with excruciating slowness. James felt his blood rushing towards the wounds, and drizzling on his chest. The more the needles werepushed into his flesh, the stronger the pain got. It was harder and harder for James to keep his screams in check. His tears were already wetting his face. That kind of pain was too intimate, it was impossible for James to resist. The first scream left his mouth and Silva smiled.

“You are doing so well , James. You are so good. Such a good boy...” James would have told him to stop talking, that he wasn't allowed to call him a good boy, but no matter how hard he fought those words, they sank into his very soul, and something snapped. Suddenly he was ready for more pain. Suddenly he needed more pain.

Raoul kept torturing James for hours, twisting his bloodied flesh, (comma) using the needles to scar James' nipples. When he was done, James was a mess of pain, blood and tears, but Raoul wasn't ready yet to leave him alone, so when he took the needles from the open wounds he used some hooks to keep them open and still bleeding. Only when he was sure that James was going to be in pain all night Raoul left the cell, but not before to forcing a kiss James' lips, smirking when the younger man tried to fight him with the last ounce of strength he still had in his body.

Chapter Text

James had no idea how long he spent hanging from the ceiling, bleeding and without food or water. He only knew that he was weaker and weaker every time Silva entered his cell. He knew that he couldn't keep going on that like that much longer. He couldn't feel his hands and he also knew that even if he was free it would have been impossible for him to move his shoulders.

Silva was slowly breaking him with pain and starvation, and what was worse was that James knew he was ready to beg, at least for a few drops of water.

When Silva came to him again, he wasn't alone, and the words died on James's lips. The man was showing off another of his flamboyant suits, and once again something that would have been ridiculous on anyone else was perfect for him. He didn't step into the cell like usual, he waited by the door while his men pushed a trolley inside and left without a word. Only when they were alone once again Silva moved to James. The room was a disgusting mix of smells. James' weakness and dried blood, and bodily wastes, and Silva's clean scent, and something new. Food. James began to salivate while the nausea made his stomach roll. He didn't know if the food was something made to keep him from getting too weak, or a new way Silva found to torture him.

The blond man moved behind James, and the prisoner didn't even have the force to follow him with his gaze to know what was going on. He didn't care. Not now with his lips cracked and his mouth so dry it hurt James every time he tried to swallow. Not with his stomach growling so loud. Not with the hell of fire and fever that was eating at his body.

“You were so good for me, James. So perfect. You gained a reward.”

James tried to retort, tried to say that he didn't want any reward, not from an enemy, but he couldn't. His mind needed a break, his body needed a break, and if he was useless for MI6, maybe, just maybe he could find a place somewhere else, even if that meant to take place at Silva's feet.

A scream of pure agony broke that thought, making James forget he even had it.

Silva was freeing James from the chains, holding up his body when it hit the floor. His legs too weak to work. The worst part was lowering his arms to free them from the leather cuffs. The blood beginning to flow again was making it almost impossible for James to breathe.

“It's okay James. I got you. You are being so good. Calm down. Calm down James. Such a good boy you are. Here, let me help you.”

With a care that James didn't think Silva was able to, the blond man helped James to sit on the floor, away from the pool of his own blood.

“Please... please...”

James didn't even know what he was begging for, and Silva soothed him with gentle touches of his hands and nonsense whispered into his ears with a quiet voice until the other man was focused enough to understand he was finally free.

“Is... is this the... reward..?”

Bond needed to know, needed to be ready for when Silva was going to chain him back, for the pain to return worse than before.

Silva almost chuckled. James was so sweet when lost and keeping him on edge was a good weapon to use in the breaking process.

“No… no James. Your reward is the food I brought you. I'll have to chain you back James. Because I still can't trust you. I wish I could, but it's too soon... I'm sorry. So sorry...” Silva knew very well how good of an actor he was and his words were true in many ways. He really was sorry he couldn't call James his yet. That was the pure truth. Everything else, it was done to bring James closer and closer to the abyss; and after the fall, he would be ready to catch James and steal him from the world.

“Water?” James's voice was so small and broken, he was almost afraid to ask. “Yes James, water too, but you'll have to take small sips or you'll be sick.” James just nodded eagerly. Everything, everything to have some water.

Silva got up to take the water and some light boiled chicken he had ready for James and he smiled when James grabbed his jacket, worried that the other man was going to walk away.

“I'm here James. I just need a moment to take the food. I'm not going anywhere.”

James nodded slowly, not trusting Silva's words. He kept watching him until the blond was back, sat as close to James as possible, and the agent grabbed his jacket again, making sure the other man wasn't going to move again until he had some food and water; or at least that was what James was telling himself.

Silva put a bottle of water on James's lips and let the man drink a few sips before taking it away again.

“It's for your own good James. Too much water is going to make you sick after all this time.” James could only nod, and wait to see if he was allowed more after a little time, and thank God he was.

Before a third of the bottle was gone Silva uncovered a plate with chicken, and this time James' hunger was stronger than nausea. But he almost refused to eat when he realized that Silva was going to feed him from his own hands. James had only two choices. Refusing to eat or allowing a man who didn't have any right to feed him, like he really was a puppy.

“You need to eat, James. I know you are starving.” Silva put a piece of meat against James' lips and waited. He couldn't take the choice from James, he needed the other man to remember he willingly chose to take the meat from his fingers. And he did. After a few moments Silva saw James opening his lips, the pink point of his tongue tasting the meat before he eagerly took the whole morsel, swallowing it avidly.

“Good boy.” Raoul didn't say more, he kept feeding James bite after bite in silence, a gesture made even more intimate when James' tongue lapped at Raoul's fingers without even realizing what he was doing. But the simple act sent spikes of pleasure to Raoul’s cock. If James noticed the other man's arousal he didn't say anything. When Raoul finished feeding him almost all the meat was gone, and the bottle was half empty. It was time for Silva to leave James again.

“I have something for you, James, before I go.”

James was almost asleep when Silva talked, and at his words he was perfectly awake again. He tried to move, suddenly scared, but Silva was faster, blocking him in his place.

“Please no. No...”

Silva knew what James was talking about, but he couldn't leave the man free. It was too soon.

“You know I have to. You were so good for me James, my good boy. Don't make me regret the little reward I gave you...” There was menace hidden in his words, and James knew it very well, so he stopped moving, he stopped talking, allowing the man to do what he wanted.

Once again the cell was filled with James' screams while Silva was chaining him again, forcing his shoulders to take a position again that was unnatural and painful. But this time the man didn't stop there. He used a rope, taken from the trolley, to bind James' ankles too, then forcing the younger men to bend his knees, he fastened the rope to the metal ring in the leather cuffs. James was completely at disposal of anyone who entered his cell now.

“What... what are you doing?”

“I'm preparing you, James. Your body is so beautiful, and for too long it was left unattended. We both know James, that a man like you needs pleasure in his life, as much as you need pain to keep yourself focused.”

Silva was watching James, open and vulnerable for everyone to watch and see, but only his eyes were allowed to enjoy the show.

James' body was used to pleasure as much as it was used to pain. Raoul didn't need to know about every mission that 007 completed, with a beautiful woman in his bed for at least a few hours every time. He knew it because it was always like that. James was a sensual creature made to give and take pleasure, that was his nature.

He let his long fingers run over James' skin, over the scars, old and new, over the muscles,tense with the effort not to spasm under his ministration. He used his fingers to draw impossible red paths over his smooth flesh, and finally he reached James' cock. He lightly scratched at the sensitive head with his manicured fingernails, and smirked when James tried to move away, biting his own lips to stop a moan.

Raoul used a little more force than necessary when he closed his fingers around James' flesh, creating a tight tunnel the agent could have fucked if he could move freely. Instead he had to surrender to Raoul's rhythm; and even if James would rather die before he admitted that aloud, it was perfect. It was what he looked for in a hand-job, it was exactly like what he did that to himself when he had the luxury to be alone, at home, in their bed, where he could close his eyes and imagine that Tiago was with him.

“So beautiful James, so sensitive. Look at you, look at how beautifully you answer to me.”

James knew he was close. It had been too long, his body denied any touch, and Silva was simply too good in manipulating his body and mind. He came with a strangled cry trying not to look at his captor or at his hand covered in his pearly release.

Silva was silent for a few moments, drinking in the beauty of James' body in pain, but satisfied at the same time, shivering a little, fighting to gain back control. Perfection, absolute perfection.

Only when he was sure he had James' attention again he raised his hand to his mouth and licked some of the drops, letting the tip of his tongue show between his lips.

“Delicious.”

James had to swallow hard. There wasn't any way he could deny that Silva tasting him was an erotic thing to watch.

“Next time, if you are a good boy, I'll share.”

And with those words he left, leaving James alone with his thoughts and imagines hunting him.

***

There wasn't a way for James to know how much time passed. The cell was windowless of course, and the little light filtering from under the door was artificial, and he was almost sure that Silva came to him at different times of the day, just to confound him more. In truth, James wasn't even sure if he was fed daily or not.

The only thing he was sure about was the pain. And the blood that he was still losing. The wounds on his nipples, Silva reopened them every time he was in the cell. In the beginning with new needles and the hooks, but then, he began using his fingernails and teeth. Making the pain so twisted and confusing that James' body answered to that every fucking time. And he hated himself for that. James could still remember the last time Silva visited him. He could still feel his mouth, his soft lips, warm and wet, on his wounded and scarred flesh. He could still feel his teeth sinking in the bloodied nipples, tearing them even more, He could still see his mouth, red from the blood, but above all James could remember perfectly the warm sensations and the waves of pure lust rising in the pit of his stomach, he could remember getting hard for Silva and his damned mouth.

James was only sure about a few things, locked in his cell. His beard and hair were too long, his hair reached his shoulders like never before in his life, and for a moment M's look of disapproval flashed in his mind, but he fought hard to forget about that. If he wasn't even worth the time to look for his body, she didn't have any right to judge him from her office in London.

The second thing James was sure about was that he was disgusting. He couldn't understand how Silva was able to enter his cell and feed him when he was disgusted about himself. His smell, the one of a man who didn't take a bath in a long time, the smell of his dried blood on the floor, and above all the smell of his humiliation. The only reason why there weren't bugs crawling all over the place was because every day one of Silva's men changed the litter pads he dirtied during the day, like he was an animal and not a man. But the smell, the smell never left James alone, making him nauseous every moment of his days.

When the door was open again, Silva was alone. And James was relieved just by his sight. His mind was starting to betray him like his body already did many times.

Silva moved slowly and elegantly, like a wildcat and as usual, he started to unbind James' legs and arms, allowing the man to lean against his warm body.

“No... I'm going... your suit...”

If he could James would have loved to tear his own tongue to pieces.

“My sweet boy. I don't care about this suit. Can you walk for a bit? Just for me?” No, James wasn't sure he could walk, not for Silva, not for God, and not even for the Queen herself, but he forced his abused and weak body all the same.

“Where?”

James never thought that his body could get that weak from pain and starvation, he knew it was stupid, but he never thought that someone was going to bring him down like that. He always thought he was going to die in the field, not in a cell, broken little by little by a mad man who for some strange reason wanted him as a pet.

He thought about Q for a moment. Q and his innocent eyes and his shy smile. Q and his brain too big for his own good, hidden behind his computers and codes and numbers, Q was probably the kind of guy people could want as a pet, and suddenly James was glad he was the one in that cell. Because Q wouldn't have had a chance to survive, and he hoped against all odds that MI6 could keep him safe, in his branch, away from a world that could swallow him whole.

James promised silently that if he ever was going to find a way out from that cell and from Silva he was going back to London, just to make sure the young man was okay.

“A nice, warm bath, James. What do you think? Would you like one?” James knew it was a trap. He knew that, but he couldn't find the strength to refuse. He didn't even care about the price of that bath. James simply nodded, hoping he wasn't too eager in his reaction, hoping that Silva couldn't see how much he needed that bath and how much he was ready to give to have it.

The walk to the bathroom was a nightmare for James. The pain in his body was almost unbearable, the weakness in his legs made them shake like leaves, even a few small steps felt like a marathon and when they finally arrived to a small but well-furnished bathroom James was ready to collapse, even if Silva was the one who supported almost all of his weight.

The bathtub was already filled, and in the steam James was able to smell expensive salt and soap lingering in the air. It smelled so good that the agent could almost feel tears in his eyes. James groaned and bit his lips to stop a scream when Silva helped him into the hot water, and he had to look away in shame when almost immediately the water turned its color. The dirt and sweat attached to his body were making the water look like mud, and the blood from his nipples was adding a red shade that made it look even more rotten. That wasn't the water of a man, but the bath of an animal.

Silva began washing his body with a soft towel, using a light lavender scented soap and with every gentle stroke of the cloth James felt a little bit more human and a little bit more vulnerable to the kindness that Silva was showing. The last drop that almost broke James was when Silva started washing his too long hair. His strong and long fingers untangling the knots, washing away the days and weeks of dirt and natural oil and sweat. The more Silva massaged his scalp, the more James felt his walls crack and crumple, and a lump in his throat was threatening to choke him.

James' body was so weak, so broken, and not only because of the ugly scar on his shoulder, but because it couldn't contain all the pain that was almost touchable anymore. James' pain was so real that Raoul was sure if he extended his arm now, he could grab it. But it was James' mind that made that picture perfect. It was James' mind that was so lost and lonely that it almost played in Raoul's team.

James leaned against Silva's hand like a lost puppy starving for affection, for a human touch that wasn't mean to hurt. He allowed his body open to Silva's touch, he let the man who was still an enemy touch him, and he let a little piece of his soul crumble.

Eve, the one woman who knew him better than anyone else in his life but Q, the same woman who flirted and joked around with him for a lifetime, had shot him,missing the real target. She decided she could take a shot that was difficult enough for a trained sniper. She decided she could play with his life.

M, the woman who basically created 007, shaping him like she wanted, had put his life in the hands of a secretary, trusting her more than she trusted James himself. Both of them were family. One of them was a friend too, and both of them had hurt him and threw him away.

And still, Raoul Silva, the enemy, the terrorist, the torturer, was touching his body with care, almost like he thought James was still a human being, and not only a number or a title.

When Silva's hand reached his cock James didn't fight, he only spread his legs as wide as the tub allowed him, and let the other man touch him, torment him, use every possible trick to make him come hard and embarrassingly fast. And when the proof of James' own release stained the water even more James was glad he let that happen, for the contact that Silva was offering him.

***

“I think we should do something about your hair, James...” Raoul's strong and warm fingers slipped from his hair and cupped his hollowed cheeks, forcing the younger man to raise his head and look him straight into the eyes. “And about your beard too, of course. I miss seeing your face, James,”

And there it was again, the familiarity and confidence that Silva took since the first day they met, and used against him again and again. And again there was his body, betraying him in the worst way possible, helped by his mind that begged for that closeness even if it was wrong, and unwanted by the logical part of his brain that became weaker and weaker every passing day. But James nodded, grateful for that suggestion.

Once Raoul was satisfied with how clean James finally was, he helped the man out of the tub and wrapped a huge towel around his slim body. James lost weight, that wasn't a surprise for Raoul, he knew he was feeding his prisoner a lot less than a man his size could call healthy, but he needed James to be docile and weak, at least for now. But not even with his diet James' body lost its beauty. He needed to claim him again, he needed to feel James under him, to be wrapped in his heat, lost in the pleasure James was always able to give him, but it was too soon yet. When he was sure that James' body was dry enough he took the false protection of the towel from his body, and couldn't help himself from staring at James like he was a banquet.

***

Silva walked James back to his cell, and for a moment the younger man felt the need to fight. He didn't want to be back in there. He didn't want the nauseating smell to gag him again, or be tied to the roof with unforgiving chains, his hands still hadn't gained back their sensitivity, and his wounded shoulder was too weak to keep his weight much longer. James knew that soon the muscles would be too damaged to ever be used again. But his body followed Silva even if his mind was screaming at him to stop.

Once he was back, James' eyes darted to the middle of the room, and he was shocked to see that the chains were gone, and so was the smell. Somehow Silva's men were able to change the air in the cell, and that made James wonder if hidden in the roof were fans that he couldn't see. Another thing that he noticed was a small bunk in the corner of the cell. Something had changed since the moment Silva took him for a bath, but James wasn't sure he was able to understand what exactly. But against his better judgment he decided not to ask questions. He really didn't want to push Silva to take back the small things he just gave.

When the blond man made his exit from the room, leaving James confused and alone, the agent didn't know what to think or do, so he simply waited, motionless, in the same spot where Silva left him, feeling the physical loss of Raoul's hand around his arm and his body supporting him.

What was going on? Did he already forget about his promise of a shave? Did he change his mind? James didn't know what to think, so he tried to distract himself, focusing his mind on other things, things different from the choking fear of being left alone with himself.

When Raoul came back, he was carrying a basin filled with hot water and a shaving set, and this time he wasn't alone. There was a man behind him, carrying a chair and wearing the expression of a man loyal to his leader not because of money but because of something deeper. That was a man ready to break his neck if he only dared to threat Raoul in any way, James realized. He saw that kind of loyalty in soldiers' eyes during missions, or in other agents working with him, and he knew how powerful that loyalty was, and how lethal.

The nameless man put the chair in the middle of the room, and waited for James to sit down. But the agent only moved when Silva nodded. Like he needed his permission, and maybe, just maybe that was exactly what his brain wanted. When his arms were tied again and he was as harmless as a kitten, the man left, leaving James and Silva alone once again. James' body relaxed immediately.

“You have to forgive him. Carlos hates spies like a man hates plague. His family was tortured and killed by agents hunting for information when he was a child. They raped his sisters and mother in front of his father and when the man didn't betray his men, they castrated his son to make sure that his line was going to end that day. I'm sure you can understand what he'd love to do to you if I allowed him.”

James could only nod. His eyes and mind too focused on Raoul's words and his hands. With precise and careful movements Silva had his face covered in the warm foam of the shaving cream. The brush the older man used was smooth and soft, an expensive brush, something that you don't see around often, just like the razor he was holding. An old looking and well used straight razor. Only a few men knew how to use one in these days, and James wasn't surprised that Raoul was one of them. The man was obviously used to having the best of everything. But it wasn't that that made his heart speed up, nor the fear of the man coming anywhere close to his delicate throat with the sharp blade, it was the thought that Tiago loved to use that kind of razor too. Tiago was the only man he trusted enough with a blade that close to a vital part of his body, and now he was forced to accept that he had to submit to Silva's ministrations.

“I won't cut your throat, James, I have so many ideas for your delectable neck, but I don't want to cut it. Trust me.”

James wasn't sure Raoul's words eased the tension that gripped his stomach. “Open your legs, James...” Silva used a mellow voice, whispering the words into James' ear. The man was teasing him like an old lover, and that made James' blood boil with rage.

“I could, yes, Mr. Silva, but you see... you didn't even take me on a date, or offered me champagne or oysters... so I really don't see why I should open my legs for you.”

Raoul smirked. He was glad to see that James still had the fire that always burned inside him, he wanted to break him, yes, but that fire he was going to preserve, and put it into the new creature that James was going to be. “Because I can take you to the highest tops of pleasure, James. You only have to allow me...” And with that he easily slipped between James' legs; the blade in his hand shone and suddenly it kissed his flesh.

The only noise in the room was their breath and the noise of the blade cutting the long beard, without any resistance.

Silva's body was so close that James could feel his warmth, he could smell his expensive cologne, the light scented soap he used, every single one of his senses was trapped by Silva, and the gentle touch of his fingers soothing the newly bared flesh did crumble his last defenses. The tears that James was able to keep in his eyes began to fall eventually . He was starving for human contact and Silva was giving him exactly that. The blond man dropped the blade and grabbed James' face in his hands, forcing him to raise his head until his throat was totally on display for him, and put his lips on the pulsating vein, lapping and biting and licking at the clean flesh that tasted like soap and James. He trailed invisible paths all over James' neck before to reach his face. The tip of his tongue, velvety and warm, lapped at the tears that James was spilling. They tasted like bitter surrender and pain, and were delicious in Raoul's mouth. Only when James was shaking and his mind didn't even know anymore if he was trying to fight Silva's action, or melt into it, Raoul's mouth covered James' in a hard and demanding kiss. He claimed James' mouth, forcing James to open to him, to surrender to his mouth exploring every inch of the warm wetness he was conquering. And then, as suddenly as the kiss began it reached its end. James was left alone once again while Raoul untied him from the chair and behaved like nothing had happened.

Carlos came back into the cell to take back the chair and rope, and James knew that the silent man knew perfectly what just happened. It was like he was waiting for Silva to call him, but the man didn't do anything like that, did he? James was simply too confused and exhausted to think about that. He let Raoul lead him to the bunk, he let the man who now was acting as cold as ice tuck him under a ratty blanket, pulling at the chain that was keeping his nipples open and raw. He looked with heavy eyes while Silva took another syringe from his pocket. “No please. No drugs...” Silva gave him a sad smile. “I have to, James, you have to rest. We have just begun, James...”

Those were the last words James heard before he was forced into oblivion by the new drugs.

Chapter Text

Raoul was lying on his bed. The comfort he always found in the elegant and sophisticated furniture was gone, it was like the mattress was full of pointy stones or crawling bugs, but Raoul knew very well that it was because his mind was racing. In all the years he operated with his new name, with his new missions intended to bring chaos and destruction all over the world, he never, not even once, felt any regret for what he was doing. But now that sensation, he thought lost to him, was back, tearing him apart.

For years Raoul had denied himself even the simplest thought about James. The only pictures of his husband he kept in his mind where the ones created by his rage; James laughing with M, plotting against him, and the torture he loved to inflict on himself ; James in bed with others men, betraying him, spitting on everything they built together. And now he knew that James had never done that. Now he knew that he had always been faithful to the promises they made a long time ago in Venice.

All he wanted was to go back in James' cell and take him into his arms, wait for the drugs to leave his body, and tell him the truth, but he couldn't. He couldn't because Tiago was no more. He couldn't because he needed to know that James belonged to him and him alone, and if MI6 had taught him something, it was how to twist and conquer someone's trust and loyalty with pain. He needed to show James that his only possibility, his only way out from hell, was to give Raoul his loyalty. He needed to keep showing James that as long as he was a good boy, and followed his orders, he was going to be rewarded.

He needed to make sure that James fell in love with Raoul's madness, with the pain he could give and the pleasure he could gift. He had to make sure James fell in love with the man he was now, realizing that the man he used to be, was gone for good.

But while he had enjoyed every torture inflicted on his targets in the years he worked in the shadows, while he never regretted any of the terrible things he did, hurting James was something that tore his soul to pieces, even if he knew he was a necessary evil. Even if he knew it was the only way to make sure that he was going to be the only man in the world who really and completely owned James Bond.

Suddenly a cold sweat broke out all over his body. Silva was feeling like a lion locked in a cage. The silk sheets were like sand paper on his skin, the duvet heavy like lead, trying to crash him, and he had to leave the room, he had to be free again.

He needed to find a safe place, a place where they couldn't find him, where he was going to be safe and protected.

Raoul left his room without even realizing what he was doing. His mind was fogged with fear and panic. He ran. He ran until he found a room, the room that even in his blind terror Raoul knew was safe. Not because of the room itself, but because of the man inside it. Only when he was back in James' cell his heartbeat began to return to normal again. Only when the door was locked behind his back, his eyes were able to see where he really was; not the inside of his own prison, not the guards tormenting him every night.

Still shaking, the man got closer to the bunk, and fell on it, careless and at the same time thankful for the drugs that were keeping James unconscious. Showing weakness to him now would only have ruined his hard work. Unconsciously Raoul started to play with James' hair, still too long, but later there would be time to correct that. Touching James' hair was having a soothing effect on his tormented soul.

For hours he did only that, he simply touched James, convincing himself that what he was doing was the right thing, that everything was allowed if in the end he was going to keep James only for himself, and slowly, very slowly he took back the control over his mind and body.

***

James woke up slowly. He wasn't used to needing so much time to pass from sleep to wakefulness, but his mind was too exhausted now, and his body too weak.

He felt like he should have remembered something important. Something vital, but all he could focus on was the cleanliness of his body and the hunger that was eating him alive. He was so used to the pain in his stomach that most of the time he was able to ignore it, simply waiting for Silva to come and feed him, but that day things were worse. He needed food, and if he was sincere with himself he needed to see Silva too.

And as if the other man knew James was thinking about him, Raoul entered the room the moment the prisoner was ready to scream and beg for him. Carlos was with him again, carrying a tray with what looked like a breakfast. Was it morning? James didn't really care anymore, he was just glad he wasn't alone anymore.

His attention was caught by Silva, who was holding a small box in his hand, and was smiling. “I have something for you, James.”

The prisoner didn't ask, he was going to find out if what Raoul was holding was another torture or a gift, or both, soon enough. He didn't even notice Carlos leaving the room, leaving the tray, forgotten on the bunk that was still warm from James' body heat.

James'stomach grumbled,making Silva smile. And his smile hurt James more than his still bleeding nipples, because it reached his soul even if he tried hard to lock that part of him in ice, like the perfect machine others wanted him to be.

“ But first, I think we should have breakfast, right? I always liked breakfast food during the day too, why we should have it only in the morning is beyond me...” So it wasn't morning. James realized he really didn't care. He share the same feelings about breakfast food, Eggs and bacon were always good in his opinion, and he craved some.

Raoul sat on the bunk, and between his body, perfectly covered in a light-colored suit, and the tray, James didn't have any place to sit. He looked at Silva, with a strange feeling in his stomach, in the same way that, not long ago, he had looked at M for directions. But this time, in a cell, looking at his kidnapper and enemy, waiting to follow his orders, James felt that his heart was lighter than it had ever been when he was with M. In a strange and probably twisted kind of way it felt right, and for the first time in too long James felt good.

***

Silva was looking James with close attention when he saw his body relax, and for a moment he wondered what gave his blond and troubled prisoner that peace that he always fought to have, when the realization hit him like a slap in the face. Could it be that James realized he was the one in charge, that he was going to tell him where to sit, or kneel, and was okay with that? Maybe even more than simply okay?

“ Come here James, it would be a sin to let this food go cold...”

He watched James walk with grace, but there was something different in him. Something was changing fast, he looked like he wasn't carrying the weight of the whole world on his shoulders anymore, or at least it looked like that weight was a lot more tolerable. Bond stopped exactly in front of Silva, in his personal space, and Raoul had to dig his nails into the palms of his hands to stop himself from reaching eagerly for James when the man simply dropped on his knees between his legs.

“ That's perfect.”

Raoul pushed his fingers in James' hair and gently started to scratch his scalp with his perfectly manicured finger nails, and while doing that, he was almost sure that James was quietly purring, like a big cat petted by his owner.

“ Perfect.”

***

As soon as James' knees hit the floor he felt peace. A sense of familiarity washed over him while he was motionless between Raoul's legs, feeling the warmth of his body, his eyes cast down and his mind finally quiet.

He knew his mind was going to make him pay for that. He knew submitting to the man in front of him was somehow wrong, and he was blaming the drugs and the pain, and the ten years of nothingness for that, but right now James couldn't find the peace that being like that was giving him, he couldn't let it go, not yet at least.

When he felt the first brush of Raoul's fingers against his lips, James opened his mouth as a well-trained pet. His mind was quiet and away, with someone else, and he obediently let Raoul feed him a bite of egg.

It was soft and rich in taste, and James' stomach growled letting him know how hungry he really was. Without thinking James diligently lapped the juice from Raoul's fingers, letting his tongue to brush the sensitive tips of the fingers feeding him, cleaning them as a lover would have done.

“ Mi amor, estoy de vuelta.”

Tiago came back into their room carrying a tray full of fruits. Their last mission was a success and the older man wanted to pamper his lover for a day.

James was lying on their bed, blindfolded and with his hands tied to the bed with silk rope, so he wouldn't have to worry about leaving marks in his skin, even if Tiago really didn't mind that. He would have loved to be able to leave his marks on James, all the time, to scream to the world that that beautiful and wild creature was already taken, but he knew better than that. With their jobs it would have been stupid to risk James like that.

He sat close to James' naked body, and smiled when he saw his lover relax instinctively in his presence.

“ Voy a comer el desayuno, mi amor. Y entonces, si usted es un buen puta, voy a dejar que me chupes.”

Tiago knew very well what Spanish could do to James' libido, and he had used it since the first time he discovered that little kink his lover had. Everything to see James lost in pure pleasure; one of the most beautiful things that he had ever seen, and only his to see and enjoy.

He chose a strawberry from his tray, and slowly pushed the juicy fruit against James' lips. When the younger man bit it, a few drops of the sweet liquid stained his lips and chin, and Tiago was fast to clean it for James, with his lips and tongue. Following the sensual swallowing, he bit the skin of James' neck and then kissed him deeply, sharing the taste of the berry and tasting James' own sweetness.

What Tiago loved the most about feeding James like that, were the sweet and sensual noises and whispers that his younger lover never failed to give him.

He kept feeding James and kissing him for a very long time, and every time he could, James would lick and nip at Tiago's fingers, sucking them into his mouth, like he would have done with his cock, like he did when he was given the possibility to wet them as they were the only preparation he would have had before sex. And like every other time they had indulged in that sweet game, Tiago was hard as rock when the tray was finally empty.

“ Ready, mi amor?”

James just nodded, and with a graceful movement, Tiago was sat on his chest, his knees at the sides of James head, and his cock, hard and already wet with drops of pre-cum was only at a few inches from his mouth.

“ Please Tiago, please mi amor, give it to me.”

James could be the most impatient person on the earth when he needed to feel Tiago close, when he needed to feel the weight of his cock in his mouth, telling him he was at home. No one else before was able to give James what he always missed in his life, a place to belong. Sucking Tiago's cock was a lot more than a sexual act for James. It was a way to show his lover his love, it was a way to give him pleasure, yes, but at the same time it was a way to take from him what he needed, a part of Tiago to carry inside himself, to know he belonged to someone who cared for him, who loved him. It was intimate and personal, and it was theirs.

“ Go ahead, querido.”

James only needed that to wrap his lips around Tiago's cock, taking him inside his wet and warm mouth. It wasn't the first time he was forbidden to use his hands. To give Tiago pleasure only with his mouth was something that filled James with pride. To bring the stoic and strong man to his orgasm just using his mouth was one of James' kinks, one he discovered since he started his relationship with the Spaniard.

James used his mouth and just a little hint of his teeth, he quickly learned that Tiago loved danger in every part of his life and in his pleasure. He hollowed his cheeks and took everything Tiago had to give inside his mouth, and deep in his throat, gagging only a bit and moaning wantonly around Tiago's member, making the man even harder and heavier in his mouth. James loved Tiago's taste, he loved his velvety cock so full and heavy on his tongue, filling his mouth and throat with hard and unmerciful thrusts, and he loved to hear Tiago's screams of pure pleasure while the man came deeply into James' mouth, knowing that in that position some of the drops were going to slip from his lips, and stain his chin.

For James there was nothing more erotic than to feel Tiago's cum on his skin, marking him, showing who owned him.

“ You are so beautiful like that. And mine. Only mine.”

James could only nod before the hard and demanding kiss that Tiago forced on his mouth, and then James could only surrender and let his lover take control, moaning happily and sucking Tiago's tongue deep into his own mouth.

Chapter Text

***

Raoul knew that, the moment he looked at James again, he was lost in his own memories, and a mute rage rised from his soul. He couldn't keep fighting with a ghost from the past if he really wanted to own James again, but destroying Tiago in James' mind was going to be even harder than killing him in real life. He couldn't lose James to a fading memory of a past that wasn't going to come back. He couldn't, not even for James, and at the same time, above all not for James. Tiago had shown that he wasn't able to protect James from M, he wasn't able to keep the promise he made to James, but Raoul was stronger, he could protect James from a life that had stolen everything from him, from a life that betrayed him in every possible way, but James had to learn his place.

He hit James with the back of his hand, hard, harming his boy and at the same time taking him back to the present, to him.

“Again James, really? I thought you could at least be grateful that I'm feeding you, but no, you had to escape again. You had to be a stubborn spoiled brat again...”

James could feel the taste of his own blood in his mouth, covering the food that was still lingering there.

He was startled by the improvised violence and wasn't ready to react, he couldn't protect himself and only Silva's knees, tightening around his body, sinking in James' sides, kept him from falling.

“You think you can escape from here, James, you think you can deny me?”

Raoul let James' body go, but again the man didn't allow the agent any moment to react , and his freedom lasted only a few seconds before an elegant Italian shoe was pressed against his chest, pushing him down hard enough to send him flat on his back.

For a second the time stopped. James was looking into Raoul's eyes, and he saw the need to hurt and he knew what men with that gaze were capable of. He saw the same empty eyes on men who were butchering civilians and children during dirty wars. The same rage in men using rape as a way to physically and emotionally destroy their enemies. And his blood froze in his veins.

He had survived torture of every kind, but Tiago was the only man he had been with, and if his body could survive he wasn't sure his mind could ever recover from something like that.

Silva was blind with rage, he wanted to hurt James, to make him regret he once again tried to leave him, he wanted to humiliate him, like when he still didn't know James never betrayed him, and he would have, he would have if his eyes hadn't met James' and he hadn't read true fear there, and disgust for what he knew Raoul was almost ready to do.

To see James's eyes, those eyes that had looked at Tiago like he was all the good things that God created on earth, so full of revulsion made Silva stop just in time. He had to go, he had to leave that room, and put some space between them. Raoul knew he needed time to think about what he had seen in James eyes. Time to think how he could never see that fear again.

He left in a rush, without a single word, like he was running from an army of demons, leaving James behind, shocked and confused.

***

Once James was alone again he didn't know what to think about what just happened. He had been sure that Silva was going to humiliate him in the worst way possible, but the man had stopped. None of his enemies ever stopped if they had had a possibility to hurt him.

None of his so-called friends had ever stopped either. Not Moneypenny with her riffle, not Vesper with her lies, not even M with all her tricks and with the games she always forced him to play, forgetting to tell him the rules every time. They had never stopped, but Raoul had.

James wasn't even sure when exactly Silva had become Raoul in his mind, but it simply sounded right now. What wasn't right was that small part of him that was breaking inside. That part would have screamed for him to come back, so he could apologise and beg for forgiveness.

He raised himself slowly, emotionally dried and totally confused by his own feelings and curled up on the small bunk, seeking a little comfort in wrapping the blanket around his body.

It was while he was adjusting in his newly created nest that he noticed a small box. Raoul forgot it when he left and even thought James knew that he shouldn't open it, his curiosity was stronger than his will.

Inside the box, neatly resting on black velvet, were two nipple piercings, and tears started to fall again when James realized what they were shaped to represent. Two small skulls, made to represent the traditional signs of death in Spanish cultures. One of the few mementos of his past life that Tiago was fond of. Dias de los muertos. But why, why did Silva have to choose the same? Why did he have to ornate his body with something that was going to remind him of his lost husband everyday? Was that a new way to torture him? Was it more? What was that James still couldn't understand about Silva?

James fell asleep holding the little box, his mind still running wild, and in his dreams Tiago wasn't alone, he could feel Raoul there too even if he couldn't see him, and it was comforting in a way he never thought possible.

***

James was wondering how much time had passed since Silva's last visit, but his body was telling him that it was a lot longer than usual. Probably Silva was still mad about what had happened the last time they met, and James wasn't sure if he was okay with being alone or not.

He wasn't sure of anything anymore. The agent didn't know if that was a side effect of his imprisonment or if it was something deeper, something begun years ago maybe. The only thing he was sure about was that he didn't understand himself anymore.

He remembered the other times he was kidnapped and tortured. Never once before he had felt this close to his jailors. He always knew where he had stood with all of them. He knew they were going to torture him to have information, or only because they enjoyed having the infamous 007 at their mercy, or even because he took one man too many from their organizations and they decided to make him pay for that, and at the same time he knew that M and Q were working to rescue him. But with Silva everything was different. He didn't understand what the man wanted from him. James had realized since the beginning that the man was even better with computers than Q himself was, and Q was a genius, second only to Tiago. Thinking about that, thinking about what he saw in the room he was kept in the first day, and about the record Silva showed him, James was pretty sure that Silva ability with hacking and technology was equal to Tiago's, and once again the similarity between the two hit his soul with the force of a punch. It was a cruel joke that Silva had so much in common with the love he had lost and instinctively his hands gripped the small box Silva had forgotten earlier. Even their tastes were similar.

James curled up on his bunk and let his mind run free. He wasn't sure he was ready to explore his own psyche yet, but he didn't have anything else to do, he didn't have anything else to keep his mind occupied; it was that or, again , thinking of the video Silva had shown him, and for that he was even less ready.

The only man James ever allowed to see his submission was Tiago, and his husband had to fight a lot before James did that. Trust was, as always. hard for the man, and to show what many could see as a weakness took him years, but Tiago didn't react as James had expected. Tiago had seen his submission as a precious gift, and always handled that with care and attention. Tiago had always known when James was on edge, and needed to have his submissive side taken care for. He had always known what James needed, if he was in pain, humiliated by a mission gone wrong, or simply needing extreme love and care.

After Tiago's death, James had found other ways to take care for himself. Alcohol, faceless bodies he bedded only to keep his mind from his sorrow for a little time, suicidal operations that always had Q in tears when they were able to be somewhere quiet and the younger man could let go of his emotions, but nothing had ever helped like Tiago could. Nothing had ever really worked. Only once James had thought of seeing a professional, but the moment he had put a feet in the place he had chosen, a wave of panic and self hate stopped him from going onwards. He had run from that place and had never returned, and he was glad for that.

And now, after years, that side of him decided to show itself again, in front of a man who should have been an enemy and nothing more.

In the beginning James thought that the quickness with which he had begun to submit to Silva was because of the pain the man could easily give without any regrets, but while James was alone and in pain he realized that that was bullshit he was telling himself. His body was trained to feel pain and survive it. It was a part of being a double-oh agent. So that wasn't why. Or at least it was not the whole reason. Silva's way to inflict pain was passionate and intimate, and that was what James really couldn't stand. It was the kind of pain you would inflict upon your collared sub, something that bonds two people like nothing else ever could, and James's mind knew he was going to be powerless in front of that, so maybe surrendering was the only way he got to keep himself sane enough to, at least, push back the Stockholm syndrome that he knew was close. Too close for James' liking. If he had learned something about himself, and not many agreed that he did, it was that he was close to breaking. Even closer than he was when Tiago had disappeared. Back then he had his work, something that always and constantly reminded him of his husband, and he at least had a friend ready to help him even when all he needed was to cry and break things and cause destruction where he could; but now he was alone, with knowledge of what really had happened to Tiago, and he was too close to a man that had the key to destruct him once and for all.

Even if James was lost in his thoughts, his instinct, the one beaten into him by months of training and years on the field, told him that something bad was going to happen. He heard footsteps coming closer to his cell, and he knew it wasn't Raoul.

Even if the men, because it was definitely more than one, at least four of them if not five, were trying to be careful, their heavy combat boots and the echo in the corridor betrayed them.

The agent couldn't understand their words, but he knew they were speaking Spanish, in some South-American dialect, and their voices were cold and full of a dark amusement, like they were planning to have a lot of fun. James knew that whatever they were planning, he was the main entertainment. Well, he was going to spoil their fun, that was for sure. James slowly rose from his bunk and took position near the door, against the wall.

He knew they were going to overpower him, but he hoped he still got a trick up his sleeve to show them that he wasn't going to go down easily. For a moment he wondered if that was Silva's punishment for his behaviour, or if it was something that the men approaching decided to do themselves.

The door opened slowly. And the first one to enter the room was the first one to go down. Too focused on the bunk to suspect he might not be there, and those seconds of confusion were enough for James to knock him out.

He tried to close the door on the others, but he only was able to break an arm before their force together overpowered him and James was pushed to the middle of the room by the power of their push against the door.

Carlos was the first to enter the cell. His black eyes were cold and hateful. The other men were behind him, watching their unconscious friend on the floor with surprise. But soon their surprise was replaced with rage, and James had to face what he already knew was coming. They were way too many for him. They had the advantage of numbers, they had brought weapons with them, and they all looked well-fed and strong enough to be able to kill a man bare-handed. At least he had the satisfaction of the scream of pain the one man with the broken arm let go. But too soon his body, weakened by torture and too little food began to betray him in the worst way possible.

He kicked one of the men moving to reach his back, but his blow was too slow, and one of the others grabbed his leg, twisting it and making James lose his balance. He was on the floor in a moment, and the other men were on him. A blind hot rage rose in James, and even in his weak position he still had a lot of fight in himself. He rose again, and even with a man trying to grab him from behind, he was still a powerful opponent.

Suddenly Tiago's video, the way his torturers grabbed him, they way he was still fighting even after months of hell, made something click inside James. Gone was the man, and in his place was the machine created only to fight. And to stop that, those men needed all their power, and it almost wasn't enough. Only when Carlos, who was in a corner, watching his men fighting James, stepped in and landed a powerful kick on James's stomach, making him howl in pain, James was finally overpowered.

Two men grabbed James by the shoulders, pushing their fingers into the scars and the sore muscles, putting his arms behind his back and it was impossible for him to move or cover himself. And yet, Carlos didn't say anything, he was still simply looking at him like he was seeing the most disgusting thing in the world.

Slowly, making sure that James could see every move, he took something from his back pocket. It was a bar of soap, that was carefully wrapped in a wet towel. Now Carlos was smirking. He knew that James was well aware of what so simple a thing could do to a body, without leaving any visible mark. And even when James was trying to prepare himself for the pain, part of him was glad that Carlos was acting of his own accord. If that had been Silva's order, there wouldn't have been any reason to keep marks from forming on his body.

Carlos began to hit James where he knew he was going to hurt him the most. His stomach and thighs, he was hitting like it was the only thing he could do to survive. James thought for a moment that he was probably lost in his past, seeing who was responsible for the destruction of his family in front of him. But after more than twenty hits, James couldn't think anymore. All he could feel was the pain, so blinding that it was almost like being in Le Chiffre's hands all over again, but this time he didn't laugh. This time he kept silent, because it was what Tiago had done in a Chinese cell. Only when Carlos, probably furious at his target for not making a sound, landed a punishing, extremely hard hit on his cock, James couldn't help an earth-shuttering scream. After that, a merciful darkness embraced James, losing his consciousness.

When Bond woke up he was alone and in terrible pain, all over his body. Slowly he crawled to his bunk and began to think about Raoul, and what was going to happen if the man found out what happened in his cell. No, not if, but when. Because whatever was happening to Raoul right now, whatever was keeping him from visiting his cell, James knew that Silva wasn't a man blind enough not to know what his men were doing while he wasn't watching.

While he was still lost in his thoughts James almost jumped when he heard a loud noise, like an wounded animal in agony, and he needed a few seconds to realize that the animal was him and yes, he was in agony.

His whole body was in pain. His kidneys were on fire, and his lowed abdomen wasn't doing better, but what hurt the most was his sex. MI6 tried to keep the real range of the wounds he suffered in Le Chiffre's hands secret. The doctors were clear to James and M, a naturally delicate part of the male anatomy was now Bond's weak spot. His enemies could overpower him by just hitting him there. There was a high possibility for the agent to lose consciousness because of a blow there. Even without knowing that, Carlos did a number on him. James couldn't stop himself from screaming and screaming, calling Silva's name when the pain was too much to handle, when hours had passed since the pain begun, and he only stopped the screams when he passed out, while blood was staining the bunk, leaking from his cock.

Chapter Text

Silva stormed into his room. He slammed the door so loudly that he was sure that all the island knew where he was and that he was furious. Only a fool would have dared to bother him when he was in that state of mind. He needed time to think about what almost had happened.

He knew well he wasn't the man he used to be. Tiago died long ago, but the thought that he was so close to use rape on James of all people, and when he knew all too well what that could do to a man, shocked him.

Silva wanted James to understand that his place was by his side. He wanted the man to let go his power and control, and submit body and soul to him. What he didn't want was a broken James, and the hate of the man he still loved like the day too long ago in Venice. Rape would have done exactly that, and rape would have taken James from him that like not even his death dead was able to do so.

But a side of himself, a side of his hollow holed and black soul, born in a Chinese prison, was screaming at him to go back and take with the force what was rightfully his. That side of his mind was telling him that it didn't matter what James would eventually became, that to have him as a mindless pet was better than not having him at all. Raoul needed all of  his willpower to shut that side of himself and not listening to it.

That was the same part of his mind that forced him to move from the middle of the room towards a mirror he had there.

A whole door of his closet was made entirely of glass, and Raoul stood in front of it, simply looking at his reflection, his faked reflection.

Slowly, like possessed by some higher power, he started to take out his prosthesis with the self-confidence of someone who is used to do that everyday, but yet his mind wasn't controlling into was his body was doing.

Only when his real reflection stared back at him from the mirror Raoul felt the connection between body and mind coming back to him. That was why he couldn't go back into James' cell and tell him the truth, that was the reason why he needed to own James totally, why he needed him by his side and was going to do everything to make sure that that what exactly what was going to happen.

The monster who was staring at him was what was left of Tiago Rodriguez. A man without a face, a mouth without teeth and someone only filled with sorrow and hate. He needed to protect James, to keep him from M and never allow him to suffer what he was forced to endure. That was why, he had to keep shaping James into the perfect mate for Raoul Silva, killing and erasing what once belonged to a dead man.

While he was putting back his face with the same ease anyone else would have put on a mask, someone started to bang at his door loudly, screaming for him to open up. It was Carlos, and Raoul knew that the other man wasn't going to bother him if something huge didn't happen. When Raoul opened the door the fading echo of a heartbreaking cry made him rush to James' cell. He didn't need for Carlos to say a single word.

***

James kept shivering like a leaf. His skin was too hot and too wet. Silva was unsure for a moment. He wanted to make sure that James could get some rest, but first he had to make sure that his internal temperature wasn't going to rise more, and above all that his kidneys were still able to work.

James gave a heartbreaking cry when the first roar of ice cold water hit his body. The bath-tub was going to need time to fill, and James was too weak to fight, but his blue eyes, open and wide, and frightened, were almost enough to break what was left of Raoul's heart.

“Please... so cold...”

Raoul sighed and kneeled on the floor close to the tub and began to gently caress James' hair, combing it with wet fingers. “I know James. I know. Just for a few moments. I promise.”

The man, defeated and hurt, closed his eyes again, and almost slipped underwater. Only Raoul's hands and his presence were keeping him from drowning.

Soon the water rose to James' neck, and Raoul counted five minutes before he was sure he could wrap James in a towel and under the blankets without risking internal damages because of his high temperature. While he was still counting the water colored light pink while the blood was leaving James' urethra. James' body was having exactly the reaction Raoul was hoping for, showing that at least his kidneys weren't damaged.

The Spaniard used all his care to raise James' body from the tub and wrap him in a warm towel to dry him before putting him in bed. When Raoul laid him on his bed, the other man tried to dig between the blankets, curling up again trying to find a little warmth in between the cold sheets. He was still awake even if not totally conscious of what was happening around him.

“James, can you open your eyes?” The agent found that one of the hardest things he had to do in his life, but after he almost lost the fight with his own body he opened his blue eyes. They were too shiny and unfocused, but at least they were open. Raoul could have thanked God for that, if he still believed in him.

“I need you to stay awake for a bit, James, can you do that for me?” James would have answered that he wasn't even sure if he could do that for the Queen herself, but he didn't have the force to form the words. He just wanted to sleep and be warm again. Why couldn't he be warm? He could feel his body burn and he was shivering like he was laying in the snow. He just wanted to stop feeling at all. But he nodded, or at least he thought he did. He wasn't sure his head moved.

“That's good. Just a few moments James, and then I promise you can sleep.” Again James wasn't sure if his answer was visible to Silva or not, but the feeling of Raoul's fingers in his hair was good and relaxing. James could let go, he didn't need to worry anymore. Raoul was going to take care of things now, and if those thoughts were James' or created by the high fever that was burning him, was a question for another time.

When Carlos arrived in the room, Silva literally tore the items from his hands and left the man with only one task; to put a wash clothe in the basin with the warm water and leave.

Raoul took a couple of pills from the small bottle that were obviously antibiotics and put them between James' lips, holding his head so that he could at least try to swallow and letting the man gulp some of the cool water Raoul was giving him. It was obvious that James was thirsty. His body was dehydrated and even after the pills were gone, James kept sipping the water until he was too weak for that too.

“Sleep...?”

“It's okayJames, you can sleep now. I'll be here.” In less than a few seconds, James was unconscious in Silva's bed while the older man was watching over him.

***

A few days later, James could stay awake for more than a few minutes at the time, enough to take his pills and whatever Raoul was feeding him, and go back to a dreamless sleep that claimed him every time, and he decided that it was the right moment to ask the question that was eating him alive since he found out about Tiago.

Raoul was always with him when James woke up, but he always wore a different suit, that was the only way James could tell it was a new day.

Only once he woke up from his fever to see Raoul tearing off a blood stained shirt. His eyes hurt too much and were too glassy to be sure, but the agent could swear that he saw his back, covered in small scars, all over it. Scars that looked old and painful, and inflicted with sadistic precision. He probably growled without realizing because as soon as Silva saw he was awake he covered himself and simply smiled to him.

But that was at least two suits ago, and now Raoul was sat on his desk, working at his laptop with a velocity he only saw in Tiago's fingers, and in Q, but the younger man wasn't as skilled as MI6 loved to believe. James knew that and never said a word, after all no one was going to listen to him.

“I know you are awake, James.”

Bond couldn't stop himself from smirking. “You type so loudly you'd wake a dead man.” He didn't know where that intimacy formed between the prey and the predator, but it felt right at that moment, and James wasn't going to argue. Not now that he had a possibility to talk to Silva.

“Now James, we both know that's a lie, I don't see any zombie in my room, and you look a lot worse than one of them.”

Raoul locked the laptop after typing what was probably a terrible cyber attack to a relevant target, and moved to the bed; his long fingers touching James' sweaty forehead and hair.

“I really should do something about your hair, James, Mommy would be so unhappy with you now. And you still have a high fever. I don't like that.”

When the blond man talked like that, James often wondered if Raoul even realized he was in the same room as James, because his words didn't make any sense to him.

The man sat on the bed, his back to the headboard, and fluffy pillows behind him to support him in a comfortable way. He looked ready to relax after a day of hard work, whatever was the work that he was doing right now.

“You worry too much James. No one is going to find us. No one is going to track my work, and no one is going to stop me. Your pretty head should focus on getting better.”

“That means that while you do God only knows what to the world, I should only lay in your bed and rest?”

Silva smiled. “That's pretty much what you should do James, yes. Your body is still fighting the infection, and the world doesn't care about how much you worry, it's going to accept its fate and deal with it.”

“And while I rest in your bed, what are you going to do?”

“Well if you were healed enough, James, I would devour you alive. I would take you to places of pain and pleasure that you never reached, and I'd let you beg me for more, and more, and because I am a demanding man, and a demanding lover, I'd make you work so hard to obtain what you'd need.” James' throat was suddenly dry. He could see Raoul doing everything he said to his body, and more, and he hated himself, because he knew, he was sure, that even if he fought, that even if he tried to resist, in the end, he really would beg for more. Because Silva was powerful and dominating, and James missed that so much. He missed the possibility to let go everything. And not only Silva was holding that promise, there was more tohim, more than the terrorist, more than the enemy. There was something that James knew he should be able to see clearly, but he couldn't, not now, and that mysterious thing hidden behind the tortured skin was exactly what was pulling James to him. “But because you really aren't in any shape for that... I was thinking about reading a good book, waiting for my cook to take me supper, and simply relax. Why? Did you have something else in mind, James?”

His voice was too close to James' ear, too warm, like the voice of a lover, with the same familiarity, and James couldn't say if he hated that or loved that,hating himself. He was hard, and it hurt, it hurt so beautifully that James had to bite his own lips to stop a moan, but Silva's smirk told him he was too late for that. His body never answered so fast to simple words, that only happened with Tiago and then only because the man trained him to answer to his voice.

“You could tell me a story.” His body moved under the heavy blankets, and James' mind couldn't register if the movement was to make some space between him and Raoul, or an attempt to snuggle closer.

“And what story would you like to listen to?”

James saw his opportunity. “Tell me what happened to Tiago.”

All the cheerfulness in Raoul's eyes disappeared quickly “I don't think this is the right moment, Mr Bond.”

In a moment James' eyes passed from being fogged and lusty to pure hate. Who the hell was that man to tell him it wasn't the right moment? What did he know of the agony he spent the last ten years in? Not knowing what happened to his husband, not knowing what happened to him.

“You don't know a thing about me Silva. It never will be the right moment for me to listen to what happened to the man I loved more than anything else in the life, but you won't keep the truth from me. I have the right to know, even if you and MI6 and whole damned England seem to think otherwise. You are going to tell me, because I am the only one with the right to know.”

Raoul was still shocked about the fierce pride with which James kept talking about Tiago, and the way he still loved a man gone so long ago. A small part of himself was sorry about all the pain he still was going to inflict on his beautiful James, but he knew he had to. It was necessary for a future together without ghosts and walls between them.

“What exactly did MI6 tell you?”

Those small moment of rage drained James of his little energy, and the man was only able to shake his head before he could gain back his breath to answer.

“M send me to a mission the day after she told me he was missing. It lasted for more than seven months. When I came back his file had already been secreted and his things stored away, and it was like Tiago never existed.”

Even after all that time the pain was still breathtaking and the wound still bleeding. To come back to an empty house, the only place were Tiago was never forgotten, where some of his things were still around, was a perpetual torture, the price James accepted to pay to keep remembering that once he was happy.

“I'm not surprised James. It's their way after all. But this time it was a little different.” Once again James thought that Silva was distant, somehow lost in his own thoughts, and he could swear there was pain in his voice, and sadness, like he cared for what happened. But the last sentence totally focused his attention, and even if his body was so tired James turned in the bed, to be able to look Silva in the eyes, waiting for the man to keep talking.

And like James already saw a lot of times, the mercurial man changed under his eyes, becoming again the cold and skilled terrorist and trader.

“Mr Bond, you know well that in our line of work, information is power, and it is sold for a very high price.”

James was shocked about the seriousness in Silva's voice. “You want to be paid to give me information about my own husband?” That was madness and James didn't know how to react.

Silva smiled, but like usual, the smile never reached his eyes.

“Given that even the organization you gave your blood for innumerable times didn't answer your questions or gave you any kind of information about what happened... yes, I think it's only fair for you to pay me.”

James was silent for a few moments. He learned that Silva was twisted enough to ask him something that probably James wasn't ready to give, but the man was right. MI6 kept its secrets and Silva was his only possibility to finally know the truth. And after all, James told himself, that wasn't the first time he was forced to do something he hated for the greater good.

“Well Mr Silva, I find myself in a position where I don't have anything on me, but name your price, and I'll find the way to pay you.”

James prepared for Silva's words, repeating to himself that whatever it was that the man was going to ask, he was going to do everything he was asked, that and that he probably already survived worse, or at least he was hoping that was the truth.

“It happens, my dear James, that you have exactly what I want. You are not going to like what I have to tell you. You are going to hate every second of it. I didn't realize how deeply you loved agent Rodriguez...” He was interrupted by James' sudden words. “How deeply I love him... Still do and always will.”

“How deeply your love for your husband still is, but he's gone James, and it's time for someone else to take care of you.”

“I don't need anyone to take care of me, Silva. I'm a grown-up man...” The fast blow to his mouth took James by surprise. It wasn't a blow aimed to hurt, only to silence, the kind of gesture a Dom could use with a sub who was overstepping his limits. The thought alone would have been able to freeze James' blood, but what shocked him even more was the memory of Tiago using the very same gesture when James needed to find his sub-space but his mouth couldn't shut up.

“Be a good boy, James and stop interrupting me. I will give you what you want James, then I'll take the right to give you what you need, because obviously you don't know how to take care of yourself or my men wouldn't have found you in the terrible shape you were. It's clear that Mommy has no idea of how to keep you sane after everything she forced you to do and see. In the past ten years you simply survived day after day, but your didn't live your life. You let the events throwing your body around like a doll, but you didn't have control over them or yourself because you couldn't. Tiago was more than your husband, James, we both know that. He was your Dominant, and now you are going to handle that power to me; that's my price.”

James was left speechless. He was ready for Silva to ask for a sexual exchange, God only knew he wasn't subtle in his harassment, but that? He couldn't do what Silva was asking for. James wasn't even sure how Silva found that out.

“How...?”

Chapter Text

Silva's smile was sad, like a teacher forced to explain something elementary all over again.

“You let yourself be destroyed James. Too much alcohol, too many impossible missions, not even a single friend that you trusted enough to ask for help. Your file would have scarred every sane psychologist for life, but no matter what was happening to you, you kept wearing your mask during the missions or the days you had to spend at MI6, and no one ever suspected, because how could they? For them a double-oh agent is the epitome of force, and they all are so stupid to think that a submissive, a natural born one like you, could never be an agent. So they never really looked at what was hiding in plain sight right under their noses.”

James kept his silence. There was nothing he could say after all. Silva was right about almost everything.

“I can't. I never will be able to give you that.”

“That, my dear James, is a lie you keep telling yourself to try to protect that side of you that belonged only to Agent Rodriguez. As I said; this is my price. If you want the truth about what happened in the cell and about why MI6 never allowed you to know, you'll have to give me what I asked.”

“MI6 never told me anything because they are allowed to give information only to the families, and no one knew about me and Tiago...”

Silva's laugh was so cold and cruel that James almost felt the need to wrap the blankets around his body even tighter.

“My sweet boy, you really have no idea of what you are talking about. MI6 is not so pure as you'd like to think. Their hands are stained with the blood of innocents, of agents left to die, of men who only were guilty of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. What they call the greatest good, James, it's, in truth, their interest. Now give me your answer, or you'll be left in darkness about Tiago. I'm going to have my way with you, one way or another, but I'm giving you the possibility to gain something in our little trade.”

The menace was still in the air. James knew Silva was telling the truth. He was his prisoner, no one was looking for him and Silva had the experience and the time to break a man with his training. James had no illusions, he knew that sooner or later the tortures and the mental manipulation Silva was a master in, were going to bring him on his knees for the blond man. Everyone has a breaking point, and James spent the last ten years fighting the moment he knew was closer and closer. That really was his last possibility.

“I really don't know how.”

“Don't worry about that James, I'll take care of everything.”

James closed his eyes. He didn't want to see Raoul's eyes, in truth, he didn't want to see anything. He only nodded, giving the man his answer and sealing his fate.

Silva caressed James's hair and let his fingers slip over the man's eyes and lips. It was like he was kissing James only using his hands and not his mouth, and somehow it felt like Silva's strange way of comforting was working.

“It's going to be bad James, very bad.”

James only nodded. He knew. He watched the video after all, he could imagine what he was going to hear, and the wound on his soul was already bleeding all over again.

Raoul slipped on the bed, close to James, and hold him in his arms. He needed something to anchor himself, and holding James after all that time was good, it was better than any other scenario he envisioned while planning his revenge.

James felt so safe in Silva's arms, and his mind was running wild. It was all so familiar, and at the same time all so new, and James never felt more confused and lost.

“The mission in Hong Kong, it was a trap. As soon as Tiago arrived, the Chinese agents were on his tail. Every piece of his equipment was bugged...”

James went still in Raoul's arms, like a beautiful ice sculpture, and the older man wasn't even sure he was breathing, but he almost could see James’s mind create a picture of what Raoul just said, he could almost see James realize the role of the old Q in sabotaging the equipment, the role of the old branch in losing tracks of Tiago, leaving him alone between enemies. But above all, Raoul could see James fighting against the last realization, against the point where all the evidence was taking him, the one realization that was going to hurt the most. He knew that James would have tried to deny the unavoidable as long as possible, for his own sanity. So Raoul kept talking, hoping that the truth about Tiago's hell was going to be enough to overcome the loyalty James had for M, the only person he had left in his life.

“He lasted as long as he could, James, at that time, he wasn't aware he was on his own, he wasn't aware he had been sold.”

James felt gentle fingers lightly scratch at his scalp. Silva was still trying to comfort him, even if it was because of his words that James was so distressed, and what was sad was that it was more than his so-called friends ever did for him.

“But then, one night he was taken. They knew he was an expert with computers, and not only an operative agent. They knew he was the one who was hacking them, and controlling their moves.” The man waited for James's reaction. He knew that James was well aware that there was only one person high enough in command to find a way to let the Chinese know that kind of information. And James didn't disappoint him. He didn't fail to react. The choked scream of pure sorrow and desperation that left James's throat was absolutely and totally heartbroken and heartbreaking.

“They took him to a facility lost in the nothing and proceeded to break as many bones as they could, with bats and kicks and punches while he was forced to walk, naked, between two wings of armed soldiers. That was their welcome in hell for him.”

James was silent, trying to make sense to what he just heard. Trying to keep his own emotions in check. He knew that was only the beginning, he knew that for him to know who sold Tiago, was just the beginning of his descent into hell.

“Did you ever wonder what the Chinese do to people who are able to use a computer for more than looking at the allowed sites which are full of propaganda?”

James shook his head, not sure if he was saying ‘no, I have no idea’, or ‘no, I don't want to know’, realizing it was probably a mix of both.

“They put Rodriguez's fingers in small vices, slowly breaking his bones, but they kept those tools in place for five days, before releasing him. Five days in which he was denied food and only given rotten water that he had to drink when they sprayed it on him, the blast so strong as to break bones, and it was ice cold. And James, you know how fast cold water leads to hypothermia, and the worst thing you can do when you start to feel the effects is to release fractures from their casts.”

James swallowed loudly, but that was everything he gave as exterior sign that what he was hearing was tearing him apart.

“They soon realized that physical pain wasn't the way to reach his breaking point. Well, soon is probably a too big word. They spent more than three weeks beating him to inches from his death, cutting him with rusty and blunt knives, only to put salt into the wounds and where his fingernails had been. His cell back there was so small, more a hole in the ground than a real cell, that he couldn't lay down. He could only bend his broken body enough to have his back almost snapping every time he breathed too deeply, and the only way he could keep his legs was in the wrong angle, so in the morning, when the guards came to take him to interrogate him, he had to scream, almost crippled...”

James had to close his eyes to cage the tears. He couldn't stop seeing his beautiful Tiago, so full of life, broken and destroyed like Silva was telling him. He couldn't stop, and desperately needed to, if he wanted to hope to be able to listen till // until the end.

“During interrogation they wanted to know what he discovered, what secrets he stole, and he never spoke a single word, not when they tied him to a table, put a cloth on his face, and threw buckets after buckets of rotten water on his face, choking him, making it impossible for him to breathe, to take time to calm his mind and the instinctive reaction when his body began to believe that he really was drowning. They kept telling him they were going to stop, he just needed to talk, to tell them what they wanted to know and they were going to stop everything. They were master torturers, and they were well trained. After the water they changed the course of their actions. They never used the same torture more than once a week.”

James shivered. He knew very well why that was. Not allowing the prisoner to prepare, not allowing him to find a way to protect his own mind.

“Something they were very fond of was to humiliate him like he humiliated them with his skills. For days everything they allowed into his body was water. Sometimes they forced him to drink so much that he felt sick. They also used a funnel to feed it to him by force, those were the days they waited for him not to be able to drink a drop more because his stomach was so hard and tense, the days where they would have started to punch and kick him so viciously the whole facility was echoing with the noises they were making and his screams. And when he wetted himself, because you know, that was their goal since the beginning, and he couldn't help that from happening they would start laughing, and laughing, and would leave, letting him lie in his own urine for hours or even days.”

James bit his tongue till the coppery taste of his own blood was enough to anchor him.

“But even with all of this, and remember James, the beatings never stopped, he never spoke a word. I can't tell if it was because he still had hope in his so-called family, or because he really was impossible to break, not like that at least, but I know from these videos that he never surrendered to them.”

“You don't have to tell me that. I know who he was, I know how strong he was. You don't have to tell me he never talked, because I know... I know well.”

James wasn't sure how he managed to speak. He wasn't even sure that his mind was really still connected to his body. Never like now had he wished he could join Tiago, wherever the man was. But strangely James didn't feel like he was wishing for death. He knew that feeling, he felt that more than once, and it wasn't the same, even if the little logic he still had in his mind found that very confusing, because to wish to be joined with Tiago again was the same as to wish for death, wasn't it?

“Confronted with his silence, they decided to use another favorite, electrocution. Once they almost stopped his heart, and again, with the exception of his screams they got nothing from him. It was then, bound to chair, with water on the floor, and wires connecting a car battery to his body and manhood, that one of his jailors realized that he really wasn't going to break, that he was going to die under their nose taking with him all the information they wanted so bad. They realized he was too proud to follow the path of many other agents before him. And the only one trained aboard, not blinded by the regime like the others, decided to see if rape was going to break him after all.”

James's eyes, red and bright, lost their coldness and were filled with hate and rage. That, that was the beautiful and wild creature that Raoul so strongly wanted by his side.

“They raped him, day after day. Everything was done to him, everything your year as a soldier and an agent, forced to see the worst humanity has to offer, can suggest to you. But even in his weakness, even if he was almost like a skeleton covered with human skin, he never surrendered to their ways. They had to keep him put while one of them was raping him.”

James was as pale as a ghost. He could fell the nausea overpowering all his senses, he could taste bile and blood and knew he couldn't keep that down much longer now.

“Are you sure you want to know what happened then?” Raoul was close to the end of his story, the horror was almost complete, and James was almost ready to be totally broken, and ready to fall exactly where Raoul was waiting for him. James only nodded, it was clear he couldn't talk anymore.

“And still, it wasn't even that that broke him. They were exasperated. They didn't know how to get his information, so they tried using their last resort. For the first time since he was taken he was given a meal, a real one, and clothes that weren't rags, he was cleaned and shaved, they allowed him to wash and get rid of the bugs and lice that were feasting on him, and he was taken into an office. There a high ranked member of the Chinese army, I'll tell you who, if you are interested, James, but his name too comes with a price, offered him coffee, but he didn't accept. The colonel tried to make him feel safe, tried to make him see they weren't necessarily his enemies, that they could be human, and not simply beasts, they could be allies. The man produced a manila folder with the transcriptions between the chief of their Services, and the chief of MI6. The colonel also let him hear their conversation. He let Tiago listen to M selling him like he was nothing, assuring her Chinese counterpart that Agent Rodriguez would have been in Hong Kong, alone, and on the day they agreed on together. It was that that broke him. And after two more weeks, as you know, he decided to use the cyanide.”

An oppressive silence fell in the room, and it was James to break it. The agent literally jumped from the bed, and ran into the bathroom, tearing the sheets that tried to twist around his feet. He threw up bile and blood and pain and rage and everything that he couldn't express for ten long years. He stayed like that, shaking and sick, until the moment he was able to talk again, but only screams came from his throat. It was almost a blessing, a little miracle, when his still recovering body was wrapped in darkness and James lost consciousness, unaware of Raoul's worried gaze, or the man carrying him back to the bed. Something had broken inside James, and now Raoul could only wait and see what that meant.

“I'm sorry mi amor, but it was necessary.”

The old, almost forgotten, pet name he always used for James sounded almost foreign to Raoul's ears, but no less sweet after so many long years.

James moved in his slumber, and for a moment Raoul was sure that somehow his unconscious mind recognized the word.

***

When James woke up things didn't change much, he just stared at a wall, laying on his side, unresponsive to everything.

Not to Raoul talking to him, not to him working on his laptop while sitting on the bed close to James, not to people entering the room when Raoul allowed that. He didn't even move when Raoul fed him, he just chewed at the food that the older man put on his lips.

James was like an empty shell. He couldn't even cry. The pain was too deep, the emotions too raw, the guilt strong enough to choke him. All James could do was to lie down and wait, and he wasn't even sure what he was waiting for.

In his sleep, he was plagued by nightmares so terrible that he always woke up with Raoul holding him down, but not even then he uttered a single word. James always screamed silently: the sound of his own voice audible only in his mind.

It was almost like his body couldn't handle all the emotions James was forced to face. Too used to being only a killing machine and nothing more, James was dealing with his own feelings in the only possible way, shutting down totally.

For two days James was in that state, almost catatonic and unresponsive to the world around him, and lost in his own mind.

Tiago reached the safe house in Prague after a three-week mission. He was exhausted, but his body was still running onadrenaline, so he knew it was going to be a long time before he could lie down and rest. That, and he was worried about James. The younger man got a mission in Prague too, nothing related to Tiago's presence in the city, so the two never met during their stay, but Tiago was skilled enough to hack the systems to know what was going on with Bond, and he realized that his mission was a bad one.

The last time he had the possibility to check, he counted something like ten bodies left on the ground because of a double agent trying to sell out James and his team. Tiago didn't find any way to help, and that unbalanced him more than the man was ready to admit.

And finally, that morning M told him that even if his mission was finished and a complete success, Tiago was going to stay in Prague longer to sort things out with the other mission. Tiago, of course, faked total ignorance about that, and let the woman explain on a secure line what was going on and what he was supposed to do.

Tiago hoped that James was already in the safe house. He needed to see that the other man was OK, or as OKas a man could be after a bloody mission, with his own eyes

The house was dark and cold when Tiago arrived, and that alone was strange. Usually a safe house is always well-litand with a fire always running in the fireplace. Everything to make sure that the agents could have peace and a comfortable place to rest and heal if that was necessary.

Tiago's instinct kicked in, and his hand went to his hidden gun almost automatically. He moved slowly into the first room, and proceeded to check the whole house after he locked the door behind his back: if he wasn't alone, and an enemy agent somehow found the house, he had to make noises to unlock the door if he wanted to come in

When Tiago arrived in what should have been the main hall, he saw the silhouette of a man against the window, and suddenly lowered the gun, but he didn't relax more than that.

He slowly switched on the lights in the room, and waited for James's reaction, and as excpected; what he saw was a mess.

James was still covered in dried blood. His suit torn in places that only could mean he was caught in a very bloody fight, his body still tense and ready to jump at any sign of danger. In his hand James was holding a bottle, half empty already. But what touched Tiago most were his eyes. James’s usually very bright and very alive blue eyes where cold and almost lifeless. The man was in a state of mind that Tiago never saw him in, and for a moment he didn't know what to do.

Suddenly James, after a few moments where his eyes stayed locked with Tiago's, lowered his gaze, looking at the floor between his feet, his shoulders even more tense than before.

“I can't... I don't know how to make it stop.”

Tiago wasn't sure he understood what James was talking about. Of course the mission, but there was more to James's distress, there was more to his pain, but Tiago couldn't say what. He needed James to tell him, that was the only way he could hope to help his (())lover.

James took the bottle on his lips again and drank it like it was water, he probably didn't even realize that the alcohol was burning his throat and that his tired eyes were starting to water already. Tiago moved toward the younger man and with a determined move took the bottle from his shaking hand. He was expecting a bad reaction, so he wasn't surprised when James tried to take the bottle back, and when Tiago took a sip before letting it crash on the floor, it was like James lost it.

James tried to punch Tiago, but the older man was faster and more lucid, so stopping the blow wasn't even a task for him. He grabbed James's wrist and bend it behind his back, invading James's personal space and forcing their bodies to touch from knees to chest and effectively trapping James.

“Stop it, now.”

Tiago never used his dominating voice with James, their strange relationship had begun too little time ago to make the Spaniard comfortable enough to show that side of himself. Once again he expected James to fight and spit in his rage, but what he didn't expect was to feel James's body going completely limp and depending on Tiago even just to stay up.

After a few seconds the older man could feel James shaking like a leaf.

“James?”

“I can't do this. I can't. Not now. Not here.”

Tiago didn't let him go, not even to look at his face. He had the suspicion that, if given the possibility, James would run like a scared animal that smelled the predator.

“What is that you can't do?”

“I can't let it go. I can't find peace... I can't...”

Tiago was wondering whether, after all, in their time together, he read some signals that James unconsciously gave him wrongly.

James was a strong man, and on the job he was dominating and always in control, even when he was facing superiors who would have been happier to see the agent at least try to follow their rules, but at home, in their very private life, James sometimes showed other sides of himself. Nothing too big, things like the way James was always ready to do what Tiago asked for, without even thinking about that, or the quiet happiness his eyes showed when his lover was more tactile than usual, or more prone to praise James for work well done, or a difficult mission solved without problems. Small things, but very eloquent.

For a moment the Spaniard thought carefully about his next action, knowing very well that a mistake could ruin everything, then he slowly let James go, stepping back, but still watching his reaction intently. Tiago sat on a comfortable-looking armchair and finally spoke.

“This is your choice, James. You can go now, you can spend the night drinking and pining for something you aren't able to acquire. You can get drunk, trying to forget about the mission and everything that went wrong, and in the morning we'll have breakfast, and I'm going to fuck you in the shower like we use to do in London, and we'll never talk about this again...” James felt Tiago's words hitting him like well-thrown punches. He wasn't sure he could forget about Tiago's voice, he couldn't ignore the way his body was answering to Tiago's dominating presence. But at the same time he wasn't even sure he could give Tiago what he wanted. He wasn't sure he could let anyone see him so exposed and vulnerable.

“Or you can come here now. You can kneel between my legs and serve me with your mouth. You can let me decide what's going to happen later. How I'll decide to make you forget everything won't be your problem. You can let me take care of you, James.”

James was shaking like someone was electrocuting him. He wanted that so badly, he needed everything that Tiago said, every promise that Tiago's words were holding, but James didn't know if he could allow himself to take it.

“But... but I can't. I want it so badly but I can't. If I allow you to see me like that, you will stop wanting me as a lover, you'll only want me as a pet.”

Tiago felt the need to curse, and at the same time to study James's files like he never did before. Find out everyone related to him who could have had power over his lover and hunt them all down to punish them to have James believing that submission was only another word for weakness.

“James, your submission would be a precious gift for me, and I'd cherish it and treat it like a precious jewel, but I'd never ask you to be in your sub-space 24/7, because that's not who you are. I love your fire, and I love your rage and passion. If I wanted a slave I would have looked for one a long time ago, but I'm not interested in having by my side someone used to only saying ‘yes’. I love the challenge that you are, mi amor, and I'd never change that, not even for the whole world.

The room went silent. It was like time itself stopped to see what was going to happen. The stillness was broken only by their breathing until James dropped to his knees and crawled towards Tiago. When he was between his legs he stopped, unsure about what to do now.

“Use your mouth to free my cock, James, and keep your hands behind your back. Focus only on me.”

James was still for such a long time that Tiago began to wonder whether maybe James really wasn't ready after all, whether his beautiful boy was going to stand up and run into his room, taking the easy way out. But while he was wondering that and thinking about his next possible move, because he knew there wasn't a possibility that he was going to let James run now that he saw what they could have, James gently nuzzled his blood stained cheek against Tiago's still covered cock, uncaring if the blood was going to ruin the expensive cloth. After a short time James took the zip between his teeth and pulled down slowly, making Tiago feel the subtle bite of the metal on his hardening cock, and the Spaniard didn't deny James the sound of his pleasured moans.

When James's lips finally met Tiago's already half hard cock he slowly lapped at the head tasting the familiar taste that was only Tiago, that was home, and his body answered, relaxing a little bit more.

Taking his time James made his tongue slip along the long vein under Tiago's cock, moaning in pure pleasure at feeling the man getting harder and heavier. When he wrapped his lips around Tiago, making him slip deeper in his mouth, using his lips and tongue and just a little bit of teeth to massage him into full hardness, the moans James couldn't keep in anymore were like the purring of a big cat against the already stimulated organ. Both James and Tiago closed their eyes in bliss. James was finally shutting down his brain.

He had a task, Tiago was with him, surrounding James with his taste and scent, making him feel safe for the first time in days. But James needed more. He needed to taste Tiago's essence on his tongue, he needed to drink in his lover, and take him inside himself to be complete again, to know he belongs somewhere and with someone who could give him what he really needed.

He hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard on Tiago's erection, used his chin to stimulate his lover's balls, knowing the older man loved the burns that his unshaved skin could provide. James could tell Tiago was close, not just by his bodily reactions, but also because his moans and growls that could have tempted a saint.

Tiago twisted his fingers inJames's hair, forcing the younger man to stop moving, and simply take his cock deeper in his throat. After a long moment of stillness the Spaniard came into his lover's mouth and James drank him like a thirsty man in an oasis. His throat spasming, milking Tiago of every drop he had to offer was almost enough to make the older man hard again.

“You are so perfect, James.”

Tiago was still massaging James's scalp, and the younger man was able to at least close his eyes without shivering in panic. His head was resting on Tiago's thigh while the two men waited for their breaths to calm down.

Yes; James was more relaxed now, and if he was a normal man stressed out by a normal job Tiago would have believe that that was enough, but he gave James his word to take care of him, and that was his only possibility really to claim James's submission. A single mistake and his lover was going to build around himself walls so high that Tiago knew he would never see that side of James again. It was time to talk.

“Before we go on James, I need to know what your limits are, what you can handle, and what you don't want to try or do.”

James nuzzled Tiago's thigh again, his eyes still closed. Talking sounded so tiring; he didn't want to break the ball of quiet and nothingness where he was floating.

Tiago grabbed his hair hard forcing James's neck to arch. Now James eyes were open and looking straight into Tiago's.

“I asked you a question James, and I want an answer... now.”

James swallowed loudly. Once again his nerves were threatening to come out and take him away from Tiago, but in the older man's eyes there wasn't any malice or mocking, just calmness and love, so much love that James almost felt overpowered.

“Make it hurt, please. Take away everything, take my mind apart, make me think only about you, control me in every possible way, but please don't let me alone... never let me alone...”

James was shivering again. The admission hidden between his words was everything that Tiago was waiting for.

“You are safe with me, James. I can give you that. I can give you everything. You are safe now, mi amor. Let's go now.”

The Spaniard rose from the armchair.

“Wait here. Undress slowly and fold your clothes neatly on the table. When I call you, I want you to come to the bedroom, eyes down. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

Tiago smiled, satisfied that his boy wasn't fighting his orders. James wasn't in any shape to be left to his own judgment right now, and the older man had clear in his mind what to do to make sure that his lover was taken care for.

He left silently and made for the bedroom. He had already used that safe house before, and like him, many others agents had trained to be perfect in every kind of interrogation and sex. But the difference between them and Tiago, was that Tiago himself really was a Dominant man. He didn't need to be taught how to do that, it was his nature.

Slowly Tiago took from his beg two silk scarves. It wasn't what he had in mind, but he had to use what he got at hand after all.

He tied the scarves to the bed, using them as ropes. It wasn't perfect, but he was sure that not even a man with James's training could have gotten free easily. But that was for later. First he had to give his boy what he needed to shut down his mind, than he could give him so much pleasure, to make him pliant and loose in his hands, like clay in the hands of an artist.

Tiago looked around the room to find a better place for what he had in mind, and he realized that only the railing of the terrace could do, and thanked all the Gods of architecture who made sure the terrace was built so that no one could see it from the outside. He wasn't sure Prague was ready to see his beautiful James in his utter submission.

He used the handcuffs to prepare the railing as he needed. Two pairs of metal, heavy handcuffs were shining in the little light from the room, they were going to be perfect on James's tanned skin, creating a magnificent contrast.

When he was ready, Tiago called James, and his heart almost skipped a beat when he saw his boy reaching the room, completely naked, and so beautifully submissive, with his eyes down and his body ready to serve Tiago in every possible way.

“Kneel, mi amor. We need to talk a little bit more before we begin.”

James did as he was told, without ever raising his eyes, even if Tiago could tell his lover was dying from the need to know how the evening was going to proceed.

“Do you have a safeword?” James only nodded once, sharply. Like the conversation was already lasting long enough.

“Tell me.”

The younger man sighed loudly. “Skyfall.” That was all he offered, no explanation, no wasting time with stupid thoughts about the past, and Tiago wasn't surprised at all. He could already tell that James was coming out from the little break that serving Tiago gave his mind. It was time to take control

“Go to the terrace and spread your arms.”

James did as he asked, his back facing Tiago. The handcuffs were distanced enough from each other that James had to stretch his arms almost at the point of pain to make sure his wrists could fit into them, and that was exactly what Tiago wanted. With a strange, cold gentleness Tiago locked the handcuffs, making sure that they were tight enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to cut off James's circulation.

When Tiago finished he moved a step back to watch his work. James's spine was slightly bent, his arms spread so far that it would have been impossible for him to even try to pick the locks, his legs spread for balance, and his ass totally exposed.

He was beautiful, and perfect, and at Tiago's mercy.

Suddenly the silence of the room was broken by the noise of well used and cared for leather slipping from loops, and the noise of the metal against metal given by the buckle. Tiago loved that particular belt. It was soft as butter and still strong enough to make important damage: if used well. It was perfect for what he needed to do.

“I'm going to use my belt on you now, James. I want you to focus only on the strokes that are going to kiss your flesh. I won't tell you how many, there will be as many as I think is fit for you. At any time, if for any reason you'll need to safeword out of this, tell me your safeword and I'll stop, no questions asked and not hard feelings between us. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Tiago had to believe that James really was going to do what he said, even if his mind was too far gone right now.

Tiago knew very well that James's body, like his own after all, had been shaped with pain and loss, but what he was offering him now, was a different kind of pain, something that only Tiago was allowed to give James.

“Please... please Sir... I need that. I need you. I want... I need to please you.”

“You are pleasing me already, James. You are so beautiful like that, tied and exposed, and only mine.”

Tiago saw how James's body relaxed at his words and smiled, even if his lover couldn't see him. James really was perfect, and he didn't even know that.

Tiago stepped back a few feet, trying the belt a couple of time in the air, letting its charming hiss echoing in the air. And then, without warning, the first stroke hit James under his left shoulder blade. The skin took a darker shade there, but James's only reaction was a light flinch that Tiago would have missed if he wasn't watching him closely.

The next stroke was on his other shoulder blade, and again James flinched but didn't make any sound. The following strokes hit James closely, and by the fifteenth James's skin was blossoming with colors so beautifully that Tiago had to stop for a few seconds just to admire his work.

And finally, James began to let it go. Finally he began to let Tiago hear his voice, his screams, and he fought. He fought so hard to keep them locked inside his throat, but when they got free, while Tiago was keeping his rhythm fast and punishing, and the leather of the belt kissed his ribs with a tongue of fire, lapping at his chest too, coiling around his body like a luscious snake, James let go of his sorrow too.

Soon James back was on the verge of bleeding. His skin broke at some points, letting the crimson liquid run along his skin, now red and hot, but still it wasn't enough. James was still fighting, a part of his mind was still focused on the mission and not on the pain that Tiago was giving him, not on his attention, and that had to stop.

Tiago changed his target. The leather started to kiss the flesh of James's ass and the delicate skin between his delectable ass and the thighs, and the screams, the screams that he gave Tiago, a gift made only for him, were so delightful that Tiago couldn't help himself from getting hard in his uncomfortable trousers.

But once again, Tiago didn't stop, because it wasn't enough yet. Only when James was a shivering mess of desire and pain and lust and sorrow; hard as a rock, but crying because of the pain, in need to be held down and fucked hard so that he could be finally whole again, Tiago stopped and freed him.

“You were so perfect. So perfect mi amor, tan precioso.”

“I need you. Please Sir... please. Need you so bad.”

Tiago wasn't a man to deny himself pleasure, but having James in his arms, begging him to be taken, it almost was overpowering.

“Do you think you can deal with being tied again, mi amor?”

James nodded with such force that for a moment Tiago feared he was going to give himself pain in his neck. “Yes, yes please...”

“You are mine, James, only mine”

Tiago put James on the bed, face down, and tied his wrists, reddened by the force of his trashing against the handcuffs, with soft silk.

“Please... make it hurt...”

Tiago was prone to hurt James, but not to damage him, and above all not in bed. He liked rough sex, but never was a fan of rape, and in James's state of mind the difference between the two things was a very thin line.

Tiago undressed quickly, unwilling to leave his boy without his contact for too long, and used a small amount of lube on his already hard cock. His preparation was quick and efficient, he didn't need to tease himself.

But for James, Tiago used more time and attention. He bent over James's body, covering him, feeling the sweet sensation of the blood teasing his chest and nipples, he kissed and licked and bit James's neck, leaving his marks there, claiming the man as his own.

He licked along James's spine tasting the blood and the sweat, and the taste of pain, and it was intoxicating, because it was purely James that he was tasting and taking inside of himself. Tiago sank his teeth in one of the open cuts, letting James's blood to flow into his mouth and swallowing a whole mouthful of it before to kissing and caressing every inch of his naked body. He knew that James was hard against the mattress, but he wasn't going to touch his cock.

“You are going to come for me, mi amor, without touching your cock. You are going to come for my fingers and and cock deep inside you. Can you do that for me, mi amor?”

James gave the most erotic and lustful moan that Tiago ever heard and nodded. “Yes, yes... need you. Need you so bad Tiago... Sir... please.”

Tiago coaxed three of his fingers in James blood and the lube he used on himself and let them slowly slip towards his ass. When Tiago reached the perfect globes, cherry red and hot, he couldn't stop himself from biting hard at the flesh, leaving the marks of his teeth there and smiling when James pushed against his mouth, silently begging for more.

He let his fingers slip against the delicate ring of muscles, hiding James's most vulnerable and private part, and with care he slipped inside the first fingers, quickly followed by a second and a third when James's couldn't take more of that sweet teasing.

James was so hot and tight inside. Tiago almost came all over James ass and thighs when James's muscles clung at his fingers, pushing them even deeper inside his body. He needed more. So much more, and when the younger man was almost out of his mind with need, Tiago finally took out his fingers only to claim James's body with one powerful thrust.

Tiago fucked into James with force, the slapping of skin against skin so loud to be almost deafening to James's overstimulated senses, and yet so perfect that he was continually begiing Tiago for more and more and more.

When Tiago came deep into his lover's body, marking him with his cum like he did with his belt and teeth, he knew that James reached his own pleasure at the same moment, and their orgasm was so powerful that both men needed time to gain back their breath

Tiago rose from the warmth of James's body with regret, but he knew James needed his attention now.

He freed the younger man while paying attention to any sign of too much pain, but on James's face he could see only a blissful expression.

The older man left the room only to get a clean cloth, wet with warm water and the ointment for James's back and wrists.

“You were so perfect James. You are perfection, but you submitted to me so sweetly and beautifully, I'll never betray the trust you gave me tonight. Never doubt that, and never believe that you are something shorter than perfect to me and for me.”

James fell asleep that night listening to Tiago's heart, and the nightmares he feared so much never came.

Only to wake up in the early hours of the second day, when the sun was still down and the island totally silent. James broke the silence, his voice so hoarse that he almost didn't recognize it.

“Make it hurt. If you are as good as you think, make it hurt enough that I won't be able to think, make it hurt so bad that my mind will lose its grip one me. Or go fuck yourself and leave me alone.”

If Silva wanted his submission, James wasn't going to make things easy for him. Right now he needed someone able to show him his strength, and that he was able to Dominate him. If Silva wasn't the man for the job, James was going to find good alcohol, a bunch of Silva's men ready to fight back, and dealing with the pain and sorrow in the way he did for the past ten years. It worked perfectly after all.

Because of Raoul's silence, James was already beginning to get up ready to go and look for what he needed, when Raoul's hands cold and careless grabbed him, pushing him back on the bed.

“Talk to me like that again, James, and I'm going to sew your lips and see how much damage you can do while screaming under my whip... am I clear?”

That was good. The promise of so much pain to make his body and mind numb. To know that Silva was probably able to give him what he promised, to know that he was ruthless enough to do exactly that and more made James's body relax.

“Go to the bathroom, take a shower and wash that body carefully. It belongs to me now, and if you disrespect something of mine, you'll be punished. Then come back here, naked. If for whatever reason I'm not here, kneel in the middle of the room and wait for me with your body in display.”

James did exactly what he was told, and for the first time in years he didn't feel the need to fight the orders someone gave him; he didn't feel the need to antagonize who had the power.

When he came back from the bathroom, Raoul wasn't there, but James could see the man had been busy.

The sheets on the bed where fresh and covered with a thick towel, probably to keep them from being stained and that was another thought that helped James to relax.

There were leather handcuffs tied on the four corners of the bed, and James wondered for a moment if Raoul was going to find out whether James was going to test their strength and how easy or hard would be getting out of them, but decided otherwise.

One of the drawers of the ancient looking dresser was open, but covered with velvet. James was curious to know what was there, he wanted to know what to wait for, and he needed to use all of his power not to lift the cloth and look. Not knowing what Raoul was going to use on him was madness, he didn't know the man as Dom, he only knew him as a terrorist, and that should have been enough to tell James that it was a terrible idea to go to him unprepared, but James didn't listen to his own advice. He never did after all. He simply kneeled in the middle of the room and waited.

Chapter Text

When Raoul came back some time later, he was holding a tray with some knives, smelling like disinfectant, and James knew that at least he didn't have to worry about infections. That was something, he thought, but his mind wasn't really focused on the possibility of something going wrong.

“You can have a choice James, just once, and just for this first time, so I suggest you think carefully. My belt or the whip?”

James almost felt sick to his stomach. He wasn't going to let Raoul use a belt for their first scene together. Not if he really had a choice. His mind was already messed up enough without the need to mix up memories of Tiago and their time together with whatever Raoul was going to do.

“Whip... please.”

“Please what James?”

“The whip please... Sir.”

Raoul nodded and if James had watched him would have seen a small smile curve Raoul's mouth.

“That's better, boy. Now you are going to tell me exactly why we are going to begin this relationship with a punishment.”

James hated that part. It had been hard enough to talk with Tiago, to let go everything he was so used to keep inside, and he trusted Tiago with his life, his body and his soul. With Raoul everything was different, and harder.

“Skyfall.”

Raoul startled for just a second, unable to hide his surprise.

“Your safeword James? Already? Don't you know, my boy, that you are not allowed to use it to skip a punishment?”

James was shocked. How could Silva know what Skyfall meant? It was true that he was a hell of a hacker, but James was sure that no one but Tiago knew that information, and he was also sure that they never used it in a contest that could have been taped. But before he could ask, Raoul began to talk again.

“Now, James, you'll answer my question, and you'll remember that the 30 strokes you'll get are for what you just did. Now talk.”

“I... I failed my husband. I believed what someone else told me, even if my instinct knew that something was wrong. I never looked for the truth. I preferred to try ending my life even if my body didn't belong to me anymore. I endangered the only thing that belonged to Tiago that was still breathing. I disrespected his memory so many times that people at MI6 gave my only friend the advice to stay away from me...”

Raoul came closer to James, caressing his hair, his touch wasn't comforting but clinical, exactly what James needed to calm down. That, and the knowledge that he was with someone who was going to take care of him, who was going to punish him for all his faults. The knowledge that, finally, he could let go of everything painful and bloody, that finally, he wasn't alone anymore.

When James calmed down again, Raoul gave him his answer. “15 strokes with my whip, because you tried to deny me the answer to a direct question. 30 because you endangered this body. 20 because you have to understand that suicide is not an easy way out, not even when you hide it behind Queen and Country, and 20 because you let what other people thought about you mean something, when I'm sure that Tiago taught you better than that... right?”

“Yes Sir, he did.”

“But I won't punish you because you trusted the wrong person. You are loyal to the core, my boy. And that's something so deep inside you that became a part of you a long time ago, and I won't punish you for who you are. I'll teach you to choose better people to trust, people who don't hold you in their hands, but you'll never be punished for something as precious as your trust.”

James had to swallow the lump forming in his throat. He wasn't sure that there really was something precious inside himself, but listening to someone so sure of that was a soothing balm for his soul.

“Stay.”

James didn't even try to raise his eyes to see what Raoul was doing; he could hear the noises of chains being attached somewhere, and James could only guess it was on the ceiling, and mentally kicked himself for being careless enough not to remember if there was a hook somewhere in it.

The next time James felt Raoul's hand was when the older man silently told him to get up.

James had been right; there were a set of chains and leather handcuffs dangling from the ceiling. It was going to be hell for his shoulders, and James was sure Raoul knew that perfectly well, but he asked for pain, and Raoul was giving him exactly that and in more than in one form. James had nothing to complain about.

***

Raoul took a moment to study James's body once again. He had the grace of a feline, of that he was well aware, but what captured Raoul's attention were the scars. There were so many more than he remembered. Raoul wasn't able anymore to recognize where and when James got all his scars. James's body belonged to him, and Raoul was sure that many of the scars could have been avoided if James only had been more careful, if he only had cared about his own safety.

M was going to pay dearly for those new scars, and their meaning.

Raoul locked the handcuffs around James's wrists and waited for the man to try them. It was an instinct and in that state of mind James wasn't going to fight what was so deeply ingrained in his soul. Raoul didn't fight the smirk that formed on his lips when James realized that the cuffs were a lot more stable that they looked and impossible to break free from. They were going to leave beautiful marks on his wrists.

The chain was long enough to let James's feet touch the floor - and how James didn't realize sooner that the carpet was covered with plastic was beyond him - but not long or flexible enough to allow him to even try to get away from the whip when things were going to be too much.

“Are we ready to start, James?”

***

James only nodded, not sure if Raoul really wanted an answer or if he even was allowed to speak. He just needed the whip unleashed on him, so badly.

James never had been really sure he understood that side of himself, that side that had always been there, and always had been hidden.

It was the same side that left alone, without a guide, without someone able to take care of him, pushed James into every possible dangerous situation, just to be hurt, just to know he was still alive. A dark side maybe, but a side that if handled well, could give James so much comfort and peace in the hell that was his life and his mind.

James heard Raoul take something from the drawer, the whip probably, and heard his steps leading him behind James, at a distance, to see if that was the right spot to reach for James's back and legs. James was well aware that the only reason he was able to hear Raoul was because the man let him. He wanted James to know he was ready, he wanted his mind tensing while trying to recognize where the first strike was going to hit, adding tension and fear and expectation to the moment. For a long moment nothing happened, and James was ready to beg Raoul to begin, but what was going to be words changed into a low and guttural grunt when the first strike hit him.

The first strike hit James under his left shoulder, leaving a pink mark on his skin, but Raoul didn't give him any time to think about that. His arm was ready to strike again, and strike after strike, burn after burn, waves of pure pain washed over James's abused body and mind, and James felt more and more free. With every scream that the former agent wasn't able to trap inside anymore, some of the pain of his soul was washed away.

Raoul was ruthless and James's skin began to break, he began to bleed and with every single drop of his own blood, James was saying goodbye to a life that wasn't his own anymore.

For any lesser man, the pain would have been unbearable. That kind of pain would have been numbing, but with each strike James's mind became more and more focused. Like Raoul knew exactly what he needed, and how badly he needed it. Like the other man was familiar enough with James's dynamics to give him what he needed at the precise moment he needed it. Like the sense of familiarity and intimacy was legitimate and acceptable. Like Raoul was safety and home.

James could feel his own blood running along his legs, he knew that his back and legs and his ribs too were bloodied and devastated. He knew that everyone who saw him now would believe he was an abused and tortured man. No one would have been able to realize he was finally at peace. No one could have known that he was closer to home, that he felt closer to home than he had been and had felt in the past ten years. And in the peace and quietness of his mind he remembered a truth that he tried so hard to forget and destroy. Tiago always had been his home.

***

Raoul knew when something changed in James, he knew when the peace his husband lost too long ago finally claimed his mind again. That could have been dangerous not too long ago, but now that James was ready Raoul knew he only had to wait. James had everything he needed to finally see the truth. But Raoul would lie to himself if he didn't admit that he was scared. After ten years to discover that he hadn’t lost James, to realize that he still wanted him by his side, and to know that he was so close to finally getting him, was the single scariest thing he could think about.

When James was free from the chains, Raoul was ready to take him to the bed and take care of his wounds, what he really didn't expect was James dropping to his knees again, careless of the marks on his legs, and curling up at his feet, a gesture so breathtakingly submissive and beautiful, something that James only showed Tiago after a very hard and emotionally draining scene.

Raoul could feel the hot tears on his skin, and James's lips butterfly kissing his feet like he was worshipping Raoul and thanking him without words.

Raoul gave him time to calm down enough that James's mind could be able to accept Raoul was only going to take care of his wounds, without pushing James to find a shelter too deep in his mind.

When the tears stopped flowing, Raoul helped him to raise and took him to the bed. Soon the white towel began to show dark red spots where the blood stained it. He had been merciless and had hurt James the way he wanted and needed, but being a trained field agent had raised his pain threshold so much that only a very tough punishment worked anymore, and Raoul wasn't sure he was perfectly all right with that.

Some of the welts on James's back and legs needed stitches. One particularly nasty one was on the inside of James's thigh and the sensitive skin was probably going to scar. Raoul used liquid antiseptic to clean the wounds, and local ointment on the cuts that were superficial enough, but he also had to inject James with local anaesthetic when it was clear that his back was going to need more stitches than Raoul previously thought.

Raoul took care of him so well that James was almost asleep a long time before the other man was done with him. Only with Tiago James ever shown that kind of trust, and it wasn't a mystery that the agent had often refused medical attention before, because he couldn't sleep surrounded by strangers.

Raoul was almost sure that the implicit trust James was showing was because, if not his unconscious mind, at least his body already knew the truth. He covered James's body with a warm blanket when he was finished with his wounds, and spent the night watching him sleep. Later in the morning Raoul was going to move James back to his cell, to give him time to think about everything and the space James needed after a session to focus on what happened, and really absorb the notion that whatever caused the punishment was over and forgiven.

But for now, Raoul simply watched James sleep peacefully, knowing that he was the one who gave him back that peace. James was as beautiful as an angel, and looking at him was enough to sedate the turmoil of hate and black thoughts that had been Raoul's only company for so long.

***

James stayed in the middle of the room for a long time, and when one of Raoul's men took him back and left, James still didn't move a single muscle in his body.

His mind was numb and in turmoil in the same time, and James wasn't even sure that that was a condition that could exist in nature. A part of him just wanted to curl up in the new bunk that was in his cell, and sleep, sleep as long as possible to give his mind time to focus again. Another part of him wanted to stay like that, numb enough that his mind was basically running in circles, too overpowered by sensations and thoughts to stop and finally reach the one thought that was behind the others, that single one important thought that was doing everything possible to stay just out of James's reach.

Exasperated by the internal war that James really didn't want to fight now, he let the side that wanted to stay numb a little longer win. He tore the bandages that covered his wounds, feeling the stitches tear, so that his mind could have something else to concentrate on for a bit at least, and curled up in a corner.

He knew he probably didn't have much time left to be unaware, but James decided to let that moment last as long as possible.

***

After a bit he could fell himself becoming cold and dirty, but he wasn't using the blanket he still had. He was torturing himself, because he needed to do everything possible not to think. Any comfort, even a small, and normally meaningless one could put his mind into motion, and James couldn't allow that to happen, because if he connected all the dots, if he put together all the evidence he had collected, the truth in his hands and in front of his eyes was going to be devastating, and James really wasn't sure that he still had enough inside to survive that.

James woke up at the noise of someone reaching his cell. Somehow he had been able to shut his body down enough to sleep, but his mind made him pay for that little concession by giving him nightmares so terrible, that the man would was happy, even if on the other side of the door was someone ready to beat the shit out of him again. At least he was awake.

Instead, in front of him was an almost normal-looking man, a butler maybe, holding a suit that James had never seen before, but that he knew was going to fit him perfectly.

“Mr. Silva demands that you join him for supper, Mr. Bond. He'll wait for you on the terrace at the fourth floor. He asks that you wear this after your bath.”

James rose slowly, careless of the blood on the floor or the pain in his back. He just wanted to face Silva and end this game between them once and for all.

The bath was too hot, too unforgiving on his raw skin, but James didn't care, like he didn't care if the shampoo he used was dripping into his eyes. Maybe others would blame the shampoo for his red eyes and the tears pooling there.

James was feeling dead inside, like it happened only twice in his life. When his parents died and when M told him that Tiago was missing in action and probably dead. He could only feel his heart crumble and break, and he knew that nothing else could hurt more than his dying soul.

Chapter Text

Raoul Silva was a man with refined tastes. He loved beauty and loved to own beautiful things, and James Bond was the epitome of male beauty.

Watching him walk between the marble statues and stairs, like an elegant predator and at the same time the noble man he was born to be was erotically challenging, because Raoul’s instinct was screaming to him to take the man and throw him on the table, between the exotic and perfectly made food, and taste him like he would have tasted the most rare banquet in the world, and take him like a sacrifice offered to a God jealous of James's perfection. And then, to lock him away from the eyes of the world. A slave for his pleasure, a lover for his senses and a husband, so terribly missed, for his body and mind.

But he couldn't. It was time for the truth. Raoul had planned everything in detail, and he wasn't going to ruin everything. Not now, not when things were so close to perfection.

“James, it's so good to have you here. I hope you are enjoying the little freedom I'm giving you.”

James nodded, but it was clear that the other man wasn't interested in his participation to the conversation, not yet at least.

“And I hope that you realized, my dear James, that I can take back this freedom. And I will if you give me reason to.”

Raoul took a bottle of wine from the table, and filled two glasses. The taste of the wine was rich and perfect, but Raoul couldn't stop thinking about James's taste, about sipping the wine from his body, lapping it from his chest, and being intoxicated by both.

“How do you like your wine, James?”

***

It was too much. Everything was too much. The suit, even if elegant and perfectly tailored, made from the finest wool and silk, was like a cage imprisoning James's body. The air, fresh with a light sea breeze, was unbreathable. The wine, imported from Italy, tasted like ashes on James's tongue.

“Stop it. Stop it please.”

Raoul looked genuinely surprised. “What exactly should I stop James, I don't understand.”

“This. All of this.” James opened his arms showing and pointing out at everything. “Stop pretending you know me because you hacked MI6 systems and read my file. Stop pretending we are two damaged souls who met by change. Just stop pretending...”

“My dear James, I'm not pretending. That's what we are, who we are. I thought...” James threw the glass against the column behind Raoul. And when it exploded in thousands slivers of glass, James thought that it probably wasn't so different from what happened to his soul.

“If you are not pretending, like you are claiming, why don't you use your name? Tell me, Tiago.”

The terrible, painful truth was finally out.

“Because you had to be the one to say that, James.”

James was shaking. He was sick to his stomach, so tired that all he wanted was a hole to hide in, a hole in which nothing of his life and past could follow him. And if that sounded a lot like a grave, James didn't care.

But there was still something that James needed more than rest. He needed the truth.

“Why? Why you didn't come to me? Was I so meaningless to you, so unworthy that you had to stay in the shadow for ten years? Why did you think so little of me, Tiago? What did I do to make you feel like that? When did you stop trusting me? When did you stop loving me and put me in the same box as your enemies?”

James was holding the high back of a chair so tightly that he could feel the wood collapse with the force of his despair.

“They destroyed me James, completely. Of the man I was, they only left an empty shell. I don't know why I survived James, I don't know how. But when I woke up in a hospital, without a face or a name, only hate sustained me. Hate and revenge. Anything else would have killed me. I never stopped loving you James, but I forgot how to love, and when my mind went back to you and what we had, it was twisted and stained, and I ended up looking at it with the only emotion I knew how to handle anymore.”

Raoul's words stabbed James's soul like a sharp blade slowly sinking into his heart. But where any other man in the world would have seen only ruins and desperation, James saw hope. Because if Tiago only/simply? had forgotten, maybe he could help him remember.

“What now?” Every ounce of force had been drained from James's body and he almost crashed on the chair when his legs shook below him.

“Now, James, you come with me. You will sleep in my bed from now on. Now we rest, and tomorrow we plan our revenge.”

And Raoul's words were like a soothing balm on James's wounded soul. He had a purpose again, he had someone to serve again, and maybe this time, it was going to be all right.

***

It was a strange sensation for James to be back in Raoul's room. He had been there only a few hours earlier, and yet it felt like a lifetime ago. Everything had changed in so little time, and James didn't know how to behave. He didn't know what to do.

Sex with Tiago had always been hot and powerful, and the connection between him and James so deep that to lay with him had always felt complete and perfect. With Tiago, James had known what to do, he had known what the other man loved, what to do to drive him crazy, how to give him pleasure. He had known Tiago's body like his own, but with Raoul everything was different.

James had seen what the body he used to worship was forced to endure, he had seen how it had changed, but in the end, even if it was still Tiago's body, James really didn't know what to do. The man was so deeply lost in thought that didn't even hear Raoul talking to him, he didn't see the man coming to an halt in the room and almost crashed against him.

When his focus was back James saw how much the room had changed. The bed was covered now in navy blue sheets, and the only light was the one created by candles and James shivered. He remembered well how much Tiago loved to play with hot wax, and it seemed like Raoul wasn't different in that respect.

“Undress mi amor, let me see you.” James smirked and suddenly his nerves were gone, and he knew perfectly what to do.

James began with his jacket, letting it slip from his shoulders with gentle movements, his long fingers unfastening the small buttons of his silk shirt with tantalizing slowness, showing his skin and chest inch by inch, looking Raoul straight in his eyes.

James almost couldn't remember the last time that he had played like that. He almost didn't remember the last time he really had wanted to put up a good show for his lover.

When his shirt was totally open, showing James's muscles and creating a magnificent contrast in colour with his scars, James got rid of it with the grace of a cat, stretching his back with a satisfied smile.

His shoes were the next things James got rid of, and his smile turned into something a lot less innocent and a lot more lustful as soon as his fingers rested on the button of his trousers. James was slowly swinging at the sound of a music that was playing only in his mind. A memory of a happier time, something that James thought he had forgotten.

James never bothered with underwear when wearing a tailor suit, and wasn't sure if Raoul remembered that or not, but his eyebrows raising as soon as James begun to let his trouser slip on his toned body told him that Raoul really forgot, or he didn't think that James would have gone commando for a dinner with an enemy.

“You are beautiful.”

James was naked in front of a perfectly dressed Raoul, and he never had had any problem with his body, but this time, with all his scars and marks, with all the proof of what he had survived for so long, James really felt beautiful for the first time in years.

Raoul moved so fast that for a moment James was stunned, but as soon as his body was covered by Raoul's, as soon as the man kissed him like it was the only thing that could keep him alive James forgot everything.

Raoul's mouth was demanding and possessive. His tongue was exploring James's mouth like it wanted to conquer it, stealing his breath. Raoul's tongue was fucking James's mouth and James never had been happier to surrender. James's moans were of pure lust and were like music to Raoul's ears.

The older man pushed James on the bed and as soon as his back hit the silk, and James' hands remembered how to move, he began to undress Raoul. James remembered all too well the many women he bedded, and with the majority of them he played while they were still wearing their clothes, and he wanted something different with Raoul, he needed something different with Raoul.

But soon the clothes really began to bother James and test his patience, so he proceeded to tear them when his hands got tangled or the buttons got stuck. James needed to fell Raoul's skin, needed to taste it. James needed to devour Raoul so that the empty hole in his soul could be filled.

As soon as James's hands finally found Raoul's skin he began to caress and explore the body that he had known so well and that at the same time was a whole new territory for him to discover. James's fingers found the scars that marked Raoul's once smooth skin, giving it a different texture, he begun to follow them, to brush over them all with care and love, determined to claim every last one of them.

James used what could only be surprise to flip Raoul on his back, switching their positions. Now that the older man was lying on his back, under James, and the agent finished tearing apart Raoul's clothes, even his tailored and perfectly fitting trousers didn't have any chance of survival against James's need to see all of Raoul.

For a moment Raoul was frozen under James' assault, but looking into his lover's blue eyes he realized that there was no malice there, only a desperate need, but even that didn't keep Raoul from fisting the sheets in an attempt to calm his own nerves.

As soon as Raoul was naked, James' lips were on him, kissing and tasting and mapping every inch of his body. He ran his tongue all over every scar he could reach, lapping and nibbling at the discolored or raised skin, letting Raoul feel the pressure and the little pain of the bites and at the same time telling him silently that he wasn't going to do anything that Raoul wasn't going to love.

When James' lips finally reached one of Raoul's nipples in their slow and devious travel, he tormented the sensitive skin with his tongue and lips, making them hard enough and ready to be bitten, and when he did, he smirked at the sound of the lustful moans Raoul gifted him with.

James was driving Raoul crazy. Every inch of Raoul's body was kissed and marked and worshipped. Every inch of Raoul's body was showered in love bites and James's other marks that Raoul accepted with the same abandonment that James showed in giving them.

James never was good with words outside the field. Words and codes and numbers were Raoul's weapons. James preferred to show his feelings and emotions, and now, kissing and rediscovering Raoul's body he was showing how much James missed what they had lost. He was showing he was finally ready to take back everything that they once had, and was ready for the future. James was done with living in the past.

Raoul had almost forgotten how wonderful James's lips could feel. He almost forgot how skillful James's fingers were, how perfect intimacy with James could be and was glad he had the possibility to make new memories for them.

“I want you... I want you inside me Raoul.”

James' erection was beautifully hard, hot against Raoul's skin, and small drops of precum were already wetting its head.

“Tell me James. Tell me, how do you want me?”

The older man was smiling, watching James closing his eyes and loudly breathing to try gaining back at least a little bit of his control. Everything about Raoul was intoxicating and James was quickly and gladly becoming an addict. Raoul knew that well, he still could read his lover as an open book, and was going to use that knowledge to his advantage.

James wasn't going to admit, not even under torture, that he had always loved to have his husband's body covering him. He loved every position with the only man he had ever trusted, but to lie under Tiago, his weight a safe haven able to keep away everything else, that was his most loved position after a hard mission or a draining session.

“Need you. Need you all over me.” And Raoul understood perfectly what James was asking for.

Slowly, with a tenderness he forgot he had, Raoul turned their position once again, totally covering the other man, hiding James from the world.

James felt whole. Simply having Raoul like that made him whole again, and a deep shiver shook him. His mind was trying to tell him that it was too dangerous to allow someone to hold so much power over him again, that it was going to make him weak, and this time James knew he wasn't going to survive if for whatever reason Raoul was going to leave him behind. But James's body wasn't having any of that. It opened for Raoul, moving so that the older man could have total access to James. After all, the agent never had been known to listen to advices, not even his own.

Slowly he bent one of his long legs, brushing Raoul's side with it, and purred when Raoul's body slipped between his legs, fitting perfectly against James, like their bodies were made exactly for that.

Now it was Raoul who was exploring James. His fingers, wet with their precum, were gently probing at James's entrance. Raoul worked James's muscles so gently that soon the tension he had felt in James disappeared, and Raoul was allowed to slip his fingers inside James's body.

Raoul took his time with James. He rediscovered the intimacy of preparing James and how hot and smooth he was inside, and how much he loved the feeling of James' muscles tightening around his fingers, not trying to push them out, but trapping them inside, demanding more.

“Please... need you.”

James's voice, broken with lust and desire was music to Raoul's ears. He loved hearing James beg, and soon he was going to have James begging him, out of his mind and almost crazy with denied pleasure, but for now he needed to claim back James's body. He needed to be inside James and be one with him again.

Raoul removed his fingers, but before James could feel distressed and too empty he thrustgently inside him, letting James feel every inch of him. He kept thrusting until he was buried in James's body, and both men screamed/moaned? in pleasure, blinded by a feeling of pure completeness that had been forbidden to them for too long.

Since the moment Raoul began moving, after he gave James time to adjust, it was clear that somehow their bodies remembered each other. Their rhythm was perfect, they didn't need to stop and think, it was like the ten years they spent apart never happened. They came together; Raoul marking James' body from the inside like his lips and teeth did from the outside, and James letting go his own release between their bodies in an orgasm that was earthshaking and perfect.

Raoul and James fell asleep kissing. They were going to need a long shower in the morning, their bodies were covered in fluids and the air around them smelled of sex, but for the moment both men needed to feel their bodies claimed and marked. They needed to feel the proof that they really were back together.

The morning was probably going to bring new sorrow and anguish. New doubts and questions about their places in life and into each other's mind and soul, both of them knew that. But that night was made to reconnect and to hope, and nothing else had place between the two bodies tangled together in sleep.

***

Since the moment the truth was out, James spent every night in Raoul's bed, and James's routine drastically changed since he was allowed to spend his nights with the man he... loved? James wasn't sure about that yet.

Because even if Raoul was Tiago, at the same time he wasn't. He was what was created out of his husband by months of tortures, and a betrayal so enormous that James still couldn't completely accept, and in some ways, lovingRaoul sounded like betrayal to James. But the agent knew well that, no matter all his doubts and fears, he was going to fall for Raoul like he fell for Tiago, and maybe he already had, he just wasn't ready to admit it.

One of the small freedoms he got was that James was allowed to work out in one of the many unused buildings that Raoul's men destined to a gym, but above all James was allowed to run in the morning. Oh, he knew very well that he was being watched, but that didn't do anything to ruin James's good mood.

James loved to run on the sand early in the morning, and listen to the sea, and feeling free like never before. While running his thoughts weren't able to follow him, and that was all he could ask for. His body was slowly coming back to its usual shape. His muscles didn't hurt anymore after only one hour in the gym, and his lungs were able to sustain James longer and longer, allowing him to reach for places on the shore he wouldn't have been able to go when he first arrived.

And spending time with Raoul too was a new challenge for James, a challenge that was teaching him new lessons in patience and self-control. Not something that James was very fond of, but he found out that, in truth, it didn't matter to him. All he wanted was to learn everything possible about the stranger who also was his husband.

Chapter Text

Raoul was even more focused on his computers than Tiago was, and it was clear that he was used to being alone while working. It wasn't unusual for Raoul not to realize that James was in the room if the other man didn't make his presence known; something that James learned to do since the first day when Raoul almost shot him as James made the mistake to lean from behind to see what Raoul was doing.

Now he simply sat at Raoul's fee, with a book and waited for the man to finish whatever he was doing. Small talk and meaningless words were something they didn't need, and in the silence their souls had time to reconnect.

“You’re hot” James was probably even more shocked than Tiago by his own admission. It was a normal day, and James was simply reading as usual, and suddenly his brain decided it was time for Raoul to know what the younger man was thinking.

“Well, thank you James. Glad you approve of me...” Raoul was smirking. It wasn't all that usual for James to speak his thoughts that freely.

“When you work... I always thought that you were hot sitting  on a chair and focused on what you eyes could see even where others  could only see chaos. Watching you like that - it always made me think about things.” James's wasn't really sure why he was telling Raoul, making a fool of himself.

“What kind of things, James?” Raoul was intrigued by James's actions. His lover was playful only when at ease, and a double-oh agent rarely was.

“Things I'd like to do to you... while you work.”

James was looking straight into Raoul's eyes, and the older man could see a glimpse of the real James there, the flirt yes, but also the man in love who have been buried and hidden for too long.

“Tell me.” Raoul sat more comfortably on the chair by the desk, waiting to see where James was willing to go.

“I'd prefer to show you.” The younger man never had been too comfortable with words. Action was his field after all.

“And I want you to tell me. What were you thinking while you watched me work, James?”

James knew that there wasn't a way out. He started the game, and now he had to follow the rules.

“I always thought about crawling under your desk, careless about whoever could have seen, and suck you while your fingers kept working. I always wondered if your fingers were going to lose their rhythm the close you got to orgasm. I wanted you to lose the coolness you always showed at work, and see the real you. But I always hated the last part of my fantasy because only I was allowed to see the real you, at home...”

Raoul was hard and already aching for James's mouth.

“I'm working now... and we are alone.” That was all the encouragement James needed to finally fulfill his fantasy.

James crawled under Raoul's desk and nuzzled his covered cock before using his tongue and lips to lick and suck. Jack was soaking Raoul’s trousers with his ministration and his lover’s cock was getting harder and harder with every passing moment. Every stroke of James’ talented tongue drove him a step closer to his release.  When his lips were an angry red because of the cloth, James made sure to unzip Raoul's trousers fast, and the other man shifted just enough to allow James to bare what he needed.

When James took Raoul's cock in his mouth he didn't stop until his chin was touching Raoul's balls. He needed so bad to have everything of him, everything he could take, that James didn't care about the tears in his eyes or the burn in his throat, because he had Raoul's taste to focus on, and that was enough.

James started to lick and suck at Raoul's erection like it was the only thing that was keeping him alive.

The older man was challenging himself. Trying to feel James's mouth working him only with his body while keeping his mind focused on his work was harder than he thought. James's mouth was too hot and his lips and tongue were creating pressure on all the right points. Soon his fingers begun to slip and the codes - usually Raoul’s old friends -  were confused and almost obscure.

James was working his throat muscles to create a tight grip against Raoul's cock. His husband was close and when James felt the first drops of Raoul's release hit the back of his throat he let Raoul slip from his mouth. But before Raoul could ask any questions James used his hand to keep milking Raoul's cock letting the warm liquid mark his face and lips.

When Raoul opened his eyes it was to a disheveled James, his cum marking him like a well paid whore. Raoul grabbed James’ hair when his lover’s tongue showed between his reddened lips, licking some of Roul’s cum. With force he claimed James’ lips, growling when his own taste and scent hit his senses. It was all perfect. Raoul had missed them together, their taste, their mixed scent that created something unique. Pushing his tongue into James’ mouth was vital, cutting his breath, claiming everything was the only thing he could think about. Only when he needed air he broke the kiss, and saw in James’ eyes the same hunger, the same need to fuck and claim, and belong all over again.    

“Mine.” Raoul forced James's head. His bare neck, so exposed and vulnerable, was attacked by Raoul's lips and teeth. The man bit hard, marking and destroying and claiming, and when he tasted James's blood, and heard his scream and begs for more, Raoul knew he did the right thing fighting to have this beautiful creature back.

***

After that first night together Raoul made sure that James understood something, James would to train again. He would regain his body and shape because now James had his husband back, his Dominant, and neither of them were going to allow him to waste his life in laziness.

The war was close. James needed to be the Agent that everyone knew, the Agent that he had been for more than twenty years. He was going to face his most important mission, and he needed to be ready.

That was why he began to woke up every morning at five in the morning, and surprisingly, his body was perfectly okay with that.

James was running late. He lost track of time while running and working out and now he really needed a shower.

Raoul was planning the last details of his strategy and James wanted to help. The agent wasn't really surprised to find their room empty, so he simply dropped his shirt and pants and went to the bathroom wearing only his boxers.

It was then that he froze. Raoul was in the bathroom, washing his prosthesis, and for the first time James was really able to see the damage done to his husband. James clenched his fist so hard that his knocks became white and his teeth began to creak. It was like he was trying to chew through them, almost breaking the surface. He  didn't know to make it stop, he didn't know what to do because being powerless was something that James wasn't used to deal with.

It was while James was still fighting with his own emotions that Raoul turned, too well trained not to realize that someone was watching him. He turned and froze looking at James looking at him, or at the side of his face that was missing.

Raoul snapped. He never allowed anyone to see him like that. He never allowed anyone to see the only external sign of his weakness. The only proof of the moment he had wished to let go everything and embrace death, because he couldn't handle the tortures anymore, because he was too weak to keep fighting.

Raoul moved as fast as a snake ready to bite, and pinned James against the wall, forcefully, his face only inches from James's.

“Is this what you wanted to see? Are you enjoying the show, mi amor?” James never heard so much coldness in the pet name Raoul always used for him. Another reason to hate who did this to Raoul, to hate who made it possible for the man to become so desperate and alone that cyanide had sounded as the only possible solution.

James was looking at Raoul's devastated face, and all he could see was the pain and desperation, the loneliness and betrayal that twisted Tiago's soul so badly that Raoul was created and born from the ruins that once had been the man he fell in love with. All he could see was the time the had lost, the time that was stolen from them by a plot that threatened to destroy what they had for good, without any possibility to claim it back again. All James could see were the long years that Raoul spent alone, plotting against what once had been his family, sure that James himself was a betrayer and nothing more.

James moved his right hand slowly, without ever breaking eye contact, and touched with his fingertips the real damages done to Raoul. He was as gentle as he would have been touching a beautiful and precious crystal sculpture, admiring and worshiping without hurting.

James saw Raoul close his eyes and keep his breath, like he couldn't stand the view of rejection and disgust he was sure were going to stain James's blue eyes.

The agent kept caressing Raoul, and moved as much as he could in Raoul's grip, to brush Raoul's ear with his lips.

“Open your eyes.”

Raoul had to fight his instinct to do what he was told, but in the end his eyes opened and Raoul only saw love and devotion in James's face.

“I don't care. I will never care. Don't you think, not even for a moment, that you have anything you need to hide from,  my Raoul.”

The older man still looked unsure, too rigid, ready to attack. He wanted, no, he needed to believe in James's words, but he couldn't, and James read all of that in Raoul's eyes and body language.

Raoul’s body went rigid in his arms but James didn’t stop. He gently kissed the corner of his lover’s mouth, and kept stroking the side of his face that was destroyed. His warm fingers kept the cuddle going, making sure to never push too hard or cause any pain.

When James let go of Raoul's face he almost smiled at how shocked his husband looked.

“I'll show you, day after day, that I mean what I said my love. Now... teach me?”

James was looking at the prosthesis that was lying forgotten in the sink. Raoul only nodded. With shaking hands he led James, showing him how to hook the plastic piece. He let James’ fingers touch the inside of his mouth, where the bone had been cut, to find the right hole. It was mechanical, yet still intimate, because James was the first one allowed to touch the ruin of what had once been his face.  

James almost jumped when the clicking noise told him that everything was in place now. Looking at Raoul like that made him see the real difference between Raoul and Tiago.

Raoul was whole, and full of rage. He was a Vengage God ready to strike and defeat his enemies once and for all. He was the one riding the storm that threw England into chaos. What was left of Tiago was the broken shadow of who he had been; and James knew that to keep hoping to see him back was only going to end up in him suffering again.

Silently James said goodbye to his husband, to the man he had been and would never be again. It broke his heart, but at least this time he had something to fight for and someone else to keep loving.

***

It was only a few days after the accident in the bathroom that James and Raoul were having dinner on the terrace when James broke a relaxed silence. There was still something he felt the need to tell Raoul, something that was still a ghost between them.

“He knew, you know? Q,  I mean. He knew about us.”

Raoul lowered his cutlery and watched James with cold eyes.

“He realized when saw us both wearing rings even if they didn't match.” Unconsciously James's hand went to the place where the ring had rested over his heart for years. “He was on our side, or he would have been if we had had time. So please, when you'll be ready to do whatever you are planning... don't kill him.”

James still didn't know what Raoul's plan was, the other man didn't tell him yet and James could understand why. The path to trust was still long for both of them.

“Tell me why James. Because he would have been on our side? Or because you took solace between his legs and in his arms when I was gone?”

And there it was, the never ending jealousy of Tiago regarding Q. But at least now James could understand it, because after all what was Q if not a younger version of Raoul himself? Probably the other saw that a lot sooner than James did.

“I never fucked him Raoul. I never touched a man after you were gone. You should spare his life because he was one of the few people who kept me alive. He was a friend Raoul, a real one, and probably the only one I’ve got. He spent months talking to me, taking me to his place after every mission, keeping me from poisoning myself with alcohol and drugs. He's the reason you had someone to claim back.”

Raoul was squeezing his glass so tightly that James feared for a moment it was going to break, hurting Raoul with slivers.

“It's not his war Raoul... please.”

“ I'll spare his life, mi amor, but only as long as he won't step between me and Mommy... or between us...”

Chapter Text

James never was a still sleeper when he got the luxury of a bed. Too many nightmares and too many hurtful memories always prevented that.

Raoul wrapped his arms around James's body, spooning him from behind. James was fully satisfied and limp in Raoul's hands, and the older man was taking full advantage of that.

“Sleep mi amor. We have a full day tomorrow.”

Raoul haven't had a nightmare since James started to share his bed. He knew well that it probably wasn't going to last, but it still was a sensation that the man wasn't ready to give up yet. But James hadn't been so lucky. Raoul had seen more than once his lover waking up with a silent scream, had seen James running for the bathroom with a hand in front of his mouth to be violently sick. Or he had seen James trying to melt his body by Raoul's side, his lips kissing his neck, but also looking for the heartbeat, making sure that it was real, that Raoul was there and alive and not a trick of his mind. That alone was enough to tell Raoul what James's nightmares were about.

He fell asleep hoping that James was going to have at least a whole night of rest. In the morning Raoul was going to test James's willingness to be an active part of Raoul's revenge. In truth, and that realization shocked him the first time, he was ready to leave James on his island if his lover was going to ask that. Raoul was ready to come back to him once that everything was over, and never talk again about what happened or about their past lives. But his frozen heart really hoped that James was going to be by his side.

When he came back to consciousness, unsure of what woke him up, Raoul needed a moment to realize  someone was on his back. A male body was trapping him. Raoul’s mind went blank, the light left his eyes, and he acted based on instinct only going for the knife hidden under his pillow. All he could hear in his mind were hateful and mockering words spoken in Chinese.

He twisted with the same grace of a snake and didn't give time to whoever was behind him to react before he sank the knife in his chest. Only when the blood dripping on his hand, Raoul's mind focused again. There weren't screams in the room, there weren't steps of men running to his cell, he wasn't even in a cell. But when Raoul really looked at the scene in front of him, his blood froze in his veins.

“No...” There was so much blood. James's blood. The man was still grabbing Raoul's wrist and that was the only reason the blade didn't hit the heart. Raoul's hand was still holding the knife and James's eyes were open, but they were quickly becoming opaque.

Raoul released his grip on the knife like the offending thing bit him.  

“James, stay with me James. stay awake!”

James's tried a couple of time to open his eyes and when he managed he looked at the knife with confusion, like it was the first time he saw one. To stay awake was harder and harder and the former agent moved one hand to grab the handle. Raoul’s slapped his hand strong enough to focus James’ attention for a few moments.   

“I can't take out the knife, James. Stay awake. Just stay awake.”

Raoul was shivering and his hands were shaking so much he needed two attempts before he was able to push one of his silky shirts around the knife without actually disturbing the damn thing. He was so glad that his mind was still able to function logically. He was glad he had remembered not to touch the blade even if his first instinct had been to grab it and throw it in the furthest  corner of the room. He put pressure on the wound while still talking. In truth he was mumbling. On the verge of hysteria, but before he could break down  he had to make sure that James would ok.

“It was an accident. It was an accident I swear. I didn't know it was you... it was an accident.”

James whimpered with pain, but this time when his eyes closed he didn't open them again.  Raoul used one hand to slap him, staining his cheek with blood. The blood was too warm on icy cold skin and James looked already dead, even if Raoul could still feel his heart beating.

“Please. Please James, please mi amor. Stay with me.”

Raoul reached for his phone. When one of his men answered, he didn't wait for him to ask any questions.

“Alert medics, it's an emergency. I need help now.”

Raoul didn't know how his voice could sound so cold and composed when inside he was panicking.

“Raoul.” James's voice was so weak that Raoul wouldn't have heard him if he wasn't focused on him with all his senses.

“I'm here mi amor. Stay with me. Help is coming, help is coming.”

Raoul looked at the shirt he was using. It was soaked in blood already, but the volume of the bleeding was slowing fast. The man could only be glad that James moved even just a few inches when his instincts probably told him that something was wrong.   

***

When help arrived, two doctors immediately started to work on James. Reluctantly Raoul moved from his place by his lover's side only because he realized he was in the way of help, and in his state he wasn't of any help. Then he chuckled bitterly to himself. He already did more than enough,

“Sir, we need to stitch him back together. The bleeding has stopped but the wound is deep. We will also probably need to give him blood. And then we need to clean him up, and make sure that he'll be as comfortable as possible.”

The doctor that was talking took a pause before to open his mouth again, well aware that he was probably signing his death sentence.

“We are probably going to need a couple of hours Sir. Maybe it would better if you took some time to clean up and get checked out too.”

Raoul was covered in James’ blood. For the first time in his life the sensation made him feel sick.

“If something happens to him I'll personally feed you both to the fish, piece by piece.”

The two doctors knew well that Raoul wasn't joking. James Bond was probably the most precious patient they ever treated, and the began to breathe again only when Raoul left the room and locked the door behind himself.

But the man already knew he wasn't going to stay away for two hours. He wasn’t going to  leave his husband alone, even if he wasn't sure James wanted him anywhere close after what happened.

***

Raoul threw himself under the water once he was alone in his bathroom. He didn't even bother to check the temperature, he didn't care. For a few moments under the too hot spray that was hurting the devastated skin of his back and chest, it was like the time froze, like he just woke up from a nightmare and nothing really happened.

But when the water begun to flow in the drain, red with blood, he broke down screaming.

He dropped on his knees and threw up bile. He was still screaming and crying and he couldn't breathe.

Raoul's throat hurt because of the acid and his gut knotted so tightly it was a miracle he wasn't passed out yet. The man had no idea how long he stayed in that state, but he only came back to reality when the water hitting him turned ice cold.

Raoul knew that he needed to put himself back together and go to James, and only the thought of his husband gave him the strength to leave the shower and face whatever was going to happen.

***

It was two hours later than Raoul saw the doctors again. They were taking James back to their room. His lover was sedated, but he wasn’t connected to machines like Raoul feared. The only foreign thing was the IV in his arm, connected with a sack of blood.

“Sir, as we said before, the wound was deep, but fortunately it was a clean cut. The edges were neat and we only needed standard stitches to sew it closed. No organs or important veins were touched. Mr. Bond will be as good as new in a little time. We'll leave a sack of blood here. When the one we already had on will be empty you can change it yourself. We'll keep our phones close, but I don't think Mr. Bond is going to need anything else except for a lot of rest.”

When the doctors left the room Raoul took his time to really look at James. He didn't care about what others said, he had to be personally sure that James was going to be ok.

James was still pale, but when Raoul touched his forehead he was relieved he wasn't as cold as ice anymore. James was also breathing normally, deeply and steadily. His chest was spotting a massive bandage, but everything else looked normal. Nothing that a field agent didn't experienced on his own skin more than once. But this time James hadn't been hurt in action, and the knowledge that he was the cause of this close call was eating Raoul alive. He took a chair close to the bad, took one of James's hands in his own, and waited.

***

It was past the sunset when James woke up with a startle, whimpering in pain when he tried to move too quickly.

“James don't move. It's ok... you are ok.”

Was he? James wasn't so sure of that. He knew that Raoul only used his name when he was mad at him, but that wasn't the tone Raoul would have used if he was.

James tried to focus his gaze on Raoul's face to understand what was going on in his husband's mind, but when his blue eyes looked straight into Raoul's he was almost shocked by how open and vulnerable Raoul's expression was.

“Talk to me Raoul, are you ok?”

Raoul looked at James like he was talking a language that no one ever heard before.

“I should be the one to ask you that I suppose.”

James chuckled. “ Well, I asked you first, and it would be rude to answer to a question with another one.”

Raoul knew when and argument was lost, and that one definitely was. “At least humor me first James, and take your pills.”

The pain was strong enough that James didn’t fight the pill pressed against his lips. He tried to swallow it at once but his mouth was too dry. It felt like swallowing a mouthful of sand.  

Raoul helped him,  holding his head and neck enough to make sure James wasn't going to choke himself. But when the older man was going to claim his chair again, readying himself for a talk he really wasn't ready for, James stopped him by patting the empty space on the bed.

“Come here. I want you close and you are not going to deny me. I'm wounded.”

Raoul was shocked enough by James behaviour that he could only do what he was told.

“I promise I won't bite Raoul... not for today at least.”

“You should be worried I could.”

“Why? I love when you do bite me, but I have to admit I'm not in any shape to play for now. So we have all the time to talk.”

“You are a bossy patient James, not the best kind I was told.”

“Tell me how are you Raoul.” James's voice was suddenly serious. “I am ok now.”

James nodded, accepting Raoul's answer, even if it was clear that the man didn't sleep, and he still was wearing nothing more than a bathrobe.

“Please Raoul, tell me what happened. Tell me what I did so I won't make the same mistake again.”

“Don't blame yourself mi amor. It's not your fault, it's not something that you could have controlled.”

“Tell me.”

“You were behind me.”

James's gaze dropped immediately, and all his body went rigid. It was an habit for him and Tiago to fall asleep with James holding the other man. The always thinking, always talking, always moving, dominating man took solace in resting wrapped in James's arms, and while asleep probably James's body acted following an old habit he was fond of.

“I'm sorry. I' didn't. I'm sorry my love.”

Raoul took James's face in his hands and claimed his lips in a forceful kiss and James parted his lips, sucking Raoul's tongue into his mouth, moaning in relief and pleasure when Raoul's taste made him sure that the older man was ok and with him again.

“You did nothing wrong mi amor. If there is someone to blame is not you...”

James shut Raoul up by kissing him again, but his mind was racing. To see his strong and powerful husband react like a trapped animal just because he was behind him without Raoul being in control killed the last remnant of loyalty he ever felt for MI6. He was going to make them all pay for what they did, without any care for casualties.

***

After the fateful night in which James almost died Raoul spent time alone, putting distance between himself and James without realizing he was hurting them both.

James was tired. He was tired of seeing Tiago. No - it was Raoul now, but the agent still had to get used to that - he was tired to see Raoul always so suspicious when he entered a room, and relaxing only when James reached his side. No one else in the world would have been able to see the minute changes in Raoul's body language, but James could, and he hated that.

James could understand his husband's reactions, but that didn't mean he didn't loathe every single second that unconscious fear stayed in his body before it  disappeared.

James needed to find a way to make his lover understand that he wasn't a menace for him, and knowing Raoul mere words were a waste of time. So James decided to take the matter into his own hands, hoping that his plan would work without making things even worse.

As James thought, Raoul was still bent on his multiple laptops. The sun was setting, giving the island an even more surreal atmosphere.

“You spend too much time at your computer.”

The older man raised his head and smiled. “Someone has to, James. I had everything planned out and ready, and then my annoying husband decided to ruin some of my hard planned plots coming back to me. I have to make up for the lost time...”

James could hear the smile in his lover's voice. Something that only he was allowed to recognize, even after so long.

“Do you regret it?” James asked while sitting at Raoul's feet on the comfortable carpet after he gave Raoul a glass of whiskey, sipping slowly from the one still in his hand.

“Never. I could never regret to have you back James. Even if that would cost me ten more years of planning I could never regret it.”

“It's not like we have ten more years. To catch her while she enjoys her retirement wouldn't be the same...” James thought for a moment that he probably should feel something, anything, but his heart wasn't aching for the impending betrayal. He made his choice and was strangely at peace with himself.

“You are right mi amor. That's why I have to keep working even if I would enjoy other things more...”

James didn't need to look at Raoul to know when the light drugs he put in his drink begun to kick in.

His typing became slow; the fasts and precise fingers missing the keys they were looking for.

But James raised his head when he heard a light cough, and the gaze he saw in Raoul's eyes was devastating.

James didn't need to imagine what he was thinking, what scenario Raoul's was imagining. He knew Raoul was sure James betrayed him in the worst way possible. The only thought that gave James the force to keep going on with his plan was that he was doing it for Raoul.

“What have you done?” Raoul was able to ask before the numbness he felt in his body claimed his mind too. And the deception and coldness in his voice stabbed James right into the heart.

“I love you.” the younger man hoped that even in his state Raoul could hear the truth in his words. When Raoul lost consciousness, James was there, catching him before he could fall on the ground holding him close. James kissed his closed eyes with the gentleness of a true lover, and hoped to God that he was doing the right thing.

James knew he had to act fast. The drug he used was strong, but in the small dose he gave to Raoul it could wear off very quickly.

***

When Raoul opened his eyes he was almost surprised to realize he was in his room, and not surrounded by MI6 agents. He had been so sure, once he realized he had been drugged, that James betrayed him. He was also naked, and the panic kicked in as soon as he realized that his wrist were tied to their bed with silk scarves. He began to trash around, trying to work his way out of the restraints, but James had always been good with knots.

James was at the end of the bed. Watching the rage and confusion in Raoul's eyes was only slightly better than the betrayal that was there before.

James moved slowly so not to startle Raoul. He was naked and even if his body was made to be powerful and intimidating, even if it was built to to be feared, the gaze in his eyes was of pure adoration for the man tied to the bed.

“What's going on here James?” The tone in Raoul's voice was was cold enough to freeze hell itself.

“I need to do this. Forgive me but there is no other way.” The younger man wasn't making sense even to himself, but he couldn't explain. He wasn't good with words and feelings, he had to show Raoul. But he wasn't surprised when his lover begun to fight his restraints again, probably misunderstanding James's words.

James crawled slowly all over Raoul's body; his own graceful like a wild cat, his muscles perfectly defined and his scars exposed without any shame. Everything he was belonged to Raoul and he was ready to give his husband back at least a little bit of the freedom he lost.

The younger man only stopped when he sat on Raoul's stomach, careful not to crush  him, but also making him feel the pressure.  

He bent to kiss Raoul's lips, drawing their shape with the tip of his tongue, lapping at their fullness before slipping inside his mouth. James kissed Raoul like it was their first and last time, like Raoul was a rare whiskey to taste slowly and forcefully. He lost himself in Raoul's mouth and for a moment almost forgot his mission.

James broke the kiss only to lightly nibble at Raoul's jaw. His husband fliched away, turning his head. Hiding the vulnerable side of his face from every form of gentleness. James didn’t stop but he needed a moment to control his body. All he wanted was to gran Raoul’s face and show him, with force, how much he really didn’t care about what happened. It was too soon. right now James needed to focus on the task he had in mind.  He slowly followed the long neck kissing and lapping at it, sinking his teeth in the sensitive flesh close to the shoulder, leaving his marks on Raoul’s skin.

Raoul’s muscles were still tense. His eyes followed his movements like an howk. He had stopped the struggling, but wasn’t relaxing even if James kissed and worshipped every inch of his body with his lips and tongue until he nestled between Raoul’s thighs with a dreamy sigh.   

James locked his eyes with Raoul's before he licked at the sensitive head, teasing the small hole there with the tip of his tongue, and he would have smirked at Raoul's attempts to mute his soft moans. It was true that James's body belonged to Raoul and that the older man knew everything about it, but the contrary was true as well. James was inclined to use all the knowledge he had to give pleasure to Raoul. He sucked only the head between his lips, while his hands worked on Raoul's balls, his long fingers stimulating the sensitive flesh under them, and slowly, even if Raoul's cock was still flaccid because rage and fear, the older man begun to relax.

James's jaws were hurting from time he spent sucking and licking Raoul's cock, trying to coax it to hardness, but it was an ache he loved because it meant that he got time to taste and play. James satisfied the oral fixation only his husband knew about. The light sedative made James work harder than usual to bring Raoul to hardness and only when the older man was fully erect James let him go. He stretched to reach Raoul’s mouth his muscled stomach creating a delicious friction for Raoul’s cock.

James claimed Raoul's mouth in a breath-stealing kiss, and this time Raoul answered back even if doubts and confusion were still darkening his eyes.  

The younger man straddled Raoul's thighs once again, and this time Raoul saw that James was wearing a cock ring. Like that James couldn’t come. Tonight wasn’t for him. Tonight only Raoul’s pleasure mattered.

James locked his eyes with Raoul’s then he raised, straining the chiseled muscles of his legs and quickly impaled himself on Raoul's cock. The burn was so intense and the intrusion so deep and fast that James had to bite his lip bloody to suffocate a scream. Only when he was sure that his voice would sound normal enough he looked straight at Raoul.

“James?”

“I would never hurt you Raoul. I would never force you to do something that could trigger memories I still can't even start to precess. But I'm tired, so tired to see you so scared of me when you are not in total control.” When Raoul was going to interrupt him, James put a finger over his lips, gently stroking them. “I know it's not me, but because I am a man, and I know that probably no one else ever realized that.” James moved his hip, taking Raoul deeper inside, giving his cock the right amount of friction and tightness he knew his husband loved.

“I don't give a fuck if you'll never allow me to take you again. I don't give a fuck if all you'll ever want from me again is for me to spread my legs for you to fuck me into next week. I just want you to see and feel that I belong to you Raoul, and I'm perfectly happy with that. I'm not a menace.” His voice was beginning to break. Too much pain mixing perfectly with the pleasure blossoming in his stomach. At every breath Raoul's cock slipped against his prostate, driving James crazy. “I'm just your husband Raoul, and I need you to trust me.”

James screamed when Raoul propped up his feet on the mattress and thrust hard inside James, so deep that the younger man was sure he was going to feel Raoul fucking into his body for at least a week.

Raoul took control of their bodies, and James was surprised only for a moment. Sometimes he still forgot that Raoul wasn't only a genius and the greatest hacker ever born, but also a lethal agent.

James was fucked so hard that when Raoul came inside his well used and open body, he had to use all his strength not to collapse.

“If you dare to drug me again, mi amor, I'm going to hurt you so much and for so long that you'll beg me to let you die.”

James didn't have any doubt that Raoul really meant it. What he didn't know was if his plan only ended up enraging Raoul, or if it scored a point too.

“I trust you James, with my life. Just give me a little more time to trust you with my body too mi amor. But thank you. Thank you for showing me that even if I was naked and tied you didn't strip control from me.”

James didn't answer with words, he simply nodded. And after he untied Raoul's wrists, the older man let him curl up by his side, and spent the evening watching James sleep with the trace of his ownership slowly trailing down his thighs.

Chapter Text

Everything was almost perfect now. Raoul and James had found a balance, and they were not only living and working together, they were almost back to the ease they had shared a long time ago. From the outside it was almost like they never lost ten years of their lives.

But James knew better than that. There was still something that was missing, something that had meant the world to him. James wanted to change that, and he couldn't stop his heart from beating faster just thinking about his plan.

James loved and hated the island in almost equal measure. He loved it because it was isolated, and that was giving him and Raoul time to reconnect, something that both men needed. Too much time spent away from each other. Too much pain and sorrow to be overcome in only a little time. The reason James hated the island was because it was a deserted place, and that wasn't going to make things easier for James and his plan.

James had loved Tiago dearly. Now he was learning to love Raoul, but it wasn't always easy because he was terrified to open up with that new side of his husband only to have him stolen like it already happened once. James knew that it was an unconscious fear, but that didn't change the fact that was there.

It was good that Raoul claimed his submission already. That was helping James to adapt more than the agent was ready to admit.

Tiago had been the one to propose, the rings ready and the ceremony already planned. This time James wanted to be the one to craft their rings. He wanted to give Raoul something that would show everyone what was between them, without the need to hide the truth.

James already had the platinum he needed. His watch provided it. Now he had to locate a jewelry shop on the desert island and find an excuse good enough to gain him time for his project. He wasn’t a total idiot and knew well that raoul would discover his little secret soon. Hopefully not before he could finish.  

James knew that lying to Raoul - no matter what the reason was - was a dangerous game to play. He almost moaned thinking about the delicious ways his lover might punish him.

***

To locate a store  that had a workshop on the back had been as hard as James had thought, but it was even a bigger struggle to use machines that were left unused for so long they just were pieces of rust.

The platinum had a melting point of more than 1700° C, so the first thing James needed to check was if  the blast furnace was still able to work.

He needed almost twentyfour hours on it to make sure that the thing could reach the right temperature without claiming his face as a price.

When he did it, James came back to Raoul's room just in time to jump into the shower a few minutes before the older man could see him covered in soot and dust.

The second thing James needed was a pair of gloves, resilient enough to protect him from the heat while melting the platinum but flexible enough to make sure he could use the precision of his hands to create two perfect rings. Finding  those was even more complicated  than to adjust the furnace. James almost made them from scratch but in the end he was ready to begin. When he finally had everything he needed ready, making the rings was almost the easiest part.

The model James was using was very complicated. He perfected the draw for days before he was satisfied enough to start. It was also beautiful, and James really could see Raoul wearing the ring with the Celtic knot. After a few days it was harder and harder to lie about where he was spending every moment Raoul didn't have him under his eyes.

Then one morning Raoul's man showed up on James's way back home . It looked like Raoul found out his little trick. The man was holding his automatic rifle and smirked. “The Boss is not happy, just so you know.”

James nodded and began to walk ahead the armed man, thanking whoever was watching from above that he finished the rings that morning. James had a feeling he wasn’t going to leave their room in the near future.

***

Raoul was working furiously on a laptop. James was almost sorry for whoever Raoul targeted in his rage.

“So James, sneaking behind my back... for what?”

James wondered for a moment how exactly Raoul found out his little secret. His husband was furious.

The sickening and loud noise of an explosion echoed in the room before Raoul shutdown the laptop and moved toward James.

“Can we do this somewhere more private?” James really didn't want to show what he had worked so hard on to Raoul's man. His husband had the right to be the first one to see the rings. Everyone else was going to find out soon enough after all.

“And why is that?”

“Because it's private.” James knew he caught Raoul's attention. The older man took James to their room and locked the door behind them. His eyes were cold, and he was watching James's every move, like suddenly he was back to being a potential enemy.

“Make it good James, and hope that I'll believe you this time.”

“I could say that I'm sorry I lied to you, but we both know that wouldn't change the fact that I did... and it also would be another lie because I'm not. I needed time, and that was the only way.”

“You needed time for what?”

“To make something.” James's waited for Raoul's reaction. In his world to make something meant to build something technological, because in that Raoul was exactly like Q. So lost in their vision of the future they usually forgot the past.

James could almost see Raoul's mind quickly remembering everything abandoned on the island that could have been used to build... what? A radio maybe? Or a weapon? No, probably a radio, something to reach the outside world. James thought that it really was time to work on Raoul's trust issues, and he almost laughed thinking that a lot of people accused James himself of having enough to last him several lifetimes.  

James was brought back to reality when he felt the cold blade of a knife against his throat. Fuck. He probably shouldn't find that so hot.

“In the left pocket of my trousers.”

Raoul didn't take his blade from its place while searching James. Raoul’s eyebrows raised comically in surprise when his hands found James’ erection. “Really mi amor? Even now?” But before James could answer his fingers found the rings. At once Raoul forgo everything else.  

“I thought that this time we could wear something matching, with a meaning understandable for everyone and not only us. I don't want to hide the truth this time. I don't want to watch my back constantly to make sure that no one is looking at me strangely. I want your men to understand that I'm not going to disappear just so they’d feel better. I want your allies to know you are off of the market, and I want your enemies to know too so they'll understand that in order to come after you they have to go through me first.”

Raoul was staring at the rings like he’d never seen any before, and James felt the fear he tried to ignore while he was crafting them wake up in his stomach again.

“That... that is if you want back what we had.” James hated how unsure his voice sounded. Did he make a mistake? Did he read it wrong when he thought that Raoul was still his husband and wanted James as one?

“You made them.” James nodded. “For us.” James nodded again, confused. He couldn't read Raoul's expression at all, and he wasn't sure about what was happening. Raoul was tracing the Celtic knot with his finger. Once again James could only nod.

“It's how it was always supposed to be, at least for me.” James let his own words to linger in the air. Now everything was in Raoul's hands.

“Yes mi amor, it's how it was supposed to be. How it still can be.”

It was like the weight of the world was taken from James- He could suddenly breathe again.

James took the ring he made for Raoul, and his left hand, and spent a long moment to lightly caress the fading scars of burns that marked the skin there. Since he had had his lover back James has set up his mind to claim every last one of Raoul's scars, bringing love and pleasure where only pain and destruction used to be. He slowly slipped the ring on Raoul's finger, savoring the moment Raoul was back to being his even for the others to see and know.

When was Raoul's turn to slip the ring on him, James could only watch the matching symbols and wonder if this was only a dream  if he was going to wake up screaming as he had  almost every night in the past ten years.

“You are crazy, mi amor. Crazy and mine until your last day on Earth.”  James smirked, feeling strangely playful.

“Well, usually after the rings, we would have kissed almost chastely... but we don't have to care about decency so... I suggest you to throw me on the bed, and ravish me until morning.”

And Raoul was more than happy to oblige.

After that day every man on the island knew they were married. They knew to never touch James if they wished to live another day. All too soon that blessed time passed, and they were ready to strike.

Chapter Text

Q was typing fast on his laptop. The mug of steaming tea that one of his minions put on his desk was tempting, but he had other things to do than taking care of himself. For months now his only interactions with the outside world were to make sure that the double-oh agents under his care could come back home alive. That wasn't going to save him from the pain of losing the only friend he had inside MI6, but at least it was something he could do.

What hurt even more than locking James's files and behaving like James never was a member of MI6, was that no one could understand why he was so broken. No one knew about his friendship with James, because everyone was ready to believe that the Agent only wanted to bed him. Q knew that his Minions only wanted to protect him, but they didn't know.

No one really knew James. No one knew about the terrible loss he suffered. Q was James’ only friend and that was why when M ordered him to get rid of everything belonged to 007 Q simply couldn’t do it. He refused to believe that James was gone. The body hadn’t been found yet, and Q would believe James was gone only in front of it. In his mind there was still hope that James was somewhere, alive and trying hard to come back home.  

He was forced to leave his branch after staying there four days straight. Somebody - maybe one of the minion, maybe Moneypenny - reported him to M and the chief of MI6 herself escorted him to the exit, forbidding him to come back for at least two days. That was if nothing big occurred.   F or the first time Q really hoped that something terrible could happen so he wouldn't be forced to think about James.

The journey to his flat was quick. At three in the morning even London was a ghost city. In less than fifteen minutes Q was home.  The young man threw the keys on a small table near the door and walked to his couch without even bothering with the light. He let himself fall on the lounge, ready to spend the night working on some side projects, but almost got a heart attack.

The couch yelped  as soon as his body hit it, and Q, no matter how high his IQ was needed a few seconds to realize that the couch was warm and breathing. There was someone in his house.

Q reacted grabbing the gun that James forced him to carry for self defense. “Don't move.” He walked to the wall and light switch, but before he could use it a voice froze him.

“I'm not a menace, Quartermaster. But I'm glad to see you followed my advice about the gun. God, I've missed you Oxford.”

The gun fell from Q’s limp hand hitting the floor with a loud thud. James. James was there and the younger man couldn’t believe his eyes. He was thinner than he remembered, his eyes were too bright like the light hurt them, and his beard was a few days long. The younger man couldn't see his body but he was sure it bore more scars than on the day JAmes had  disappeared in Turkey.

“James?” He didn't know what to say, he wasn't even sure that his brain really registered that his friend was back. “Is that really you?”

James rose from the couch and covered the little space between them until he stopped close enough for Q to feel his breath on his skin. “Yes Oxford, it’s me. How many others can call you that and live?”

Q was shaking, unsure of what to do. He probably missed the memo of what to do when your best friend comes back from death. then he cursed and for once he let instinct take control and threw himself against James, punching him. The other man didn't react, waiting for Q to vent his pain and let it go; he felt a pang of guilt raise inside his soul. Q never used physical violence to solve problems.

“I swear to God if you don't have a good excuse for that, you asshole... where the hell were you? What took you so long to come back?”

James gave the other man a little more time before he spoke again. “Oxford, I'll answer you as much as I can. But you have to stay calm. I would never hurt you intentionally, but you are walking on thin ice here.”

Q only then realized how tense James's body was, how rigid his arms, ending in pale fists where the blood wasn't even able to flow: he stepped back and simply nodded, letting the Agent know that for now at least he wasn't going to do anything else, just listen to what he had to say.

James lead him to the couch, but moved as soon as the younger man  sat. When he saw the questions in his eyes James smiled. “I'll be back in a moment Q. I'll just be in the kitchen making tea. I promise I won't disappear on you.”

“You better. You owe me a lot more than that. A fucking good explanation, for example.” The agent simply nodded and left. Q was right and Bond knew that. It was a shame that he was going to omit a lot of the truths that Q deserved.

Q watched James to go, and for the first time he saw something that he hadn’t before. James was walking with grace like a huge wildcat, but he was also trying to hide he was obviously in pain, and his heart broke a little bit thinking about what James could have suffered.

When James came back with two steaming mugs Q couldn't hold back anymore. “Are you hurt?” James answered him with a sad smile and sat as close to Q as possible. He really missed the younger man and he wasn't sure who he was trying to comfort: Q or himself. He only knew that them both needed that closeness. “Nothing that I can't handle, don't worry about me. I survived worse.”

That was a lie and somehow James knew that Q wasn't buying it. But at least Q wasn't pushing either; he really looked happy just having him back, and he wished that things could be that easy with M and the other at MI6 too.

They talked all night long with Q curled up by James's side on the couch, snuggling as close as possible but at the same time trying to look as perfectly composed as the Quartermaster of MI6 usually was. He learned well to wear a mask, and for that James felt sad. The younger man was worth a lot more than the lies and masks, but for now James could only hope that Q realized that before it was too late.

“We'll have to go at MI6 in the morning.”

Q shivered.  He knew they did, but he didn't want to take James back. He had a terrible feeling that not everyone was ready to greet him with happiness. He heard stories about debriefing Agents coming back from imprisonment, and none of those stories were good.

“We can wait. I have two days off, we can spend them here and then come back when...”

James put his fingers on Q's lips. “It's ok Q. The sooner we do that, the sooner I can come back to work and make your life interesting again. I know you probably were bored out of your mind without me around.” He grinned, trying to make his words a joke.

“I have many things to tell them, and they won't believe me if I don't go to their debriefing and evaluation. I just need to be back doing my work for Queen and Country. I don't have anything else, you know that better than anyone else.”

Q would have loved to correct the older man, he would have loved to tell him that no, he wasn't alone, he still had Q by his side, but he knew that wasn't enough and not what James needed.

“We'll go as soon as you take a shower.”

James nodded and hugged Q closer to his body, not knowing when and if he could have had the possibility to do that again.

***

Q's shower was comfortable, but James didn't want to linger too long and get used to the little comfort of the warm water and friendly environment. He knew what was going to happen in a little time. He and Raoul had discussed it.

That was the reason James' body was covered in bruises and wounds. MI6 was going to demand to see every scratch related to what he was going to tell them. They were going to demand to know how every single sign arrived to cover his body. And that was also the reason he was walking funny all over again, his ass wearing the signs of Raoul's fury.

Their last time together had been furious and rough. Raoul left so many marks on him that James almost felt like his slavery had started all over again, but he knew why the other did that, and he was right. If they wanted to play M at her own game, they needed to be ready to give her what she was expecting to see. It was going to be hell, but he was going to survive because this time he wasn't alone, and because he wasn't the only one who deserved revenge. James closed his eyes and focused on Raoul. For a moment he imagined the other man with him, his lips kissing his wet skin, his hands touching him everywhere, his cock claiming him in hard and long thrusts, and everything was perfect again. James Bond was ready to be 007.

***

Moneypenny was the first one to see Q arriving to the new MI6 Headquarters. She jumped to her feet and marched to him like a General leading an army.

“Q, what are you doing here? M ordered you to stay away for 48 hours.” The younger head of Q branch who usually liked M's secretary, didn't feel like wasting time chatting when James was hiding in a dark corner waiting for Q to call him.

No one spotted him yet, and Q frowned. He knew well that James was a skilled agent but there was more. The new recruits were too young, too wet behind the ears and too sure of themselves. They were on the verge of a total war and those men didn’t even know it. Or they don’t care. Just because of that Q was sure now, they were going to lose.

“Not now, Eve. Is M in her office already? I need to talk to her about something with the greatest urgency.” The woman was immediately silent.

“Q, what happened, is related to the attacks?” She wanted to know, she had never seen  her friend so distressed. But James had been an Agent for longer that he cared to admit, and from the shadow where he was hiding he was studying her. She wasn’t simply concerned. There was an urgency in her voice that spoke of hunger. Her body was tense and almost invading Q’s personal space. She was questioning the younger man, hunting for answers. It looked like she really wanted the role of agent.  

Q knew since the moment Eve was back from Turkey that she wasn't as shocked as she should have been. She always wanted James’ place, and it was clear to him that that was her way to show it.

“Your level of clearance is not enough to know what I need to tell M. So, is she in her office already, or I have to send a car to take her at home?”

Moneypenny was speechless. Q never treated her like that, and she was almost ready to unleash her temper on him when M's office door opened and the woman showed herself. “What's so important that you are using your position to scare away my secretary, Quartermaster?”

“I have something important to tell you Ma'am...” Q's eyes reached Eve, and it was clear that the man didn't want her there. “But I need this to be as private as it can be.”

M wasn’t happy about the request. She was so used to control Q that she couldn’t believe the lad was ordering her around. Of course she needed his mind and expertise on her side of the war; that was the only reason why she signed to Eve to leave. M watched her go before moving back into her office and was surprised when Q didn’t follow her immediately, but kept looking at a dark point in the even darker hallway.   

A few minutes of silence passed. M was starting to lose her temper and almost demanded Q if he was joking with her or what when from the darkness, like a beautiful fallen angel, James Bond appeared in front of them.

Chapter Text

M was frozen on the threshold of her office. She couldn't keep her eyes from the man. Bond had lost weight, and she could guess the reason he was walking so carefully even without waiting for medics to confirm her supposition.

So 007 decided to come back from the dead. M was going to evaluate him personally before she let her hope rise. But she couldn't deny to herself that James Bond was the man they all needed if they hoped to stop the attacks and find out who was behind them.

“Come inside. You better have a good explanation to why you contacted our Quartermaster instead of coming  here as soon as you could, Bond.”

When both men were seated, M took her place behind her desk and waited for 007 to start talking. She knew the agent couldn't hide anything from her, not after that little accident more than fifteen years ago, and that only succeeded because Tiago was covering for him.

“I'm waiting.” She didn't feel like wasting time, they didn't have much in the first place and while she was waiting for James to talk, M started to wonder if perhaps putting Q, who was pretty and young, so close to the agent wasn't a mistake after all.

She had to wonder why the always so loyal James didn't come to her as soon as he could, why he chose to find refuge at Q's, even if for just a night.  She couldn't get rid of Q, the young man was the best in his field, second only to Tiago. To lose him too would have been a mistake she would have paid dearly for  and she couldn't afford any other mistakes. She was the black soul of MI6 and she was going to prove that.

Mallory didn't have any right to try to ruin her hard work, and the peak of that work was the agent in front of her. He was undisciplined maybe, but he was the best they trained in a very long time. A lone wolf ready to lay his loyalty at the feat of an Alpha leader and die to complete a mission. Mallory couldn't even hope to find someone like Bond among the men he threatened to bring into her organization.

She looked at the two men once again, while Bond was still talking. She didn't pay attention to his words, she knew she was going to hear them so many times that she would have ended up learning them by heart. She watched Q first. The younger man looked like his usual self, cynical and detached, but his eyes weren't buried on an electronic device or a gadget he just invented or even his damn phone. No, not at all, they were focused on James's every action even if he was trying not to show that. She couldn't see in James any physical reaction to Q’s scrutiny, but M knew 007 like no one else. She knew the man was keeping an eye on Q, even if not physically. She was sure that the Agent knew perfectly how upset the Quartermaster really was about what he was saying, and she saw Bond to comfort people before, even without touching them.. He was doing exactly that. But she couldn't find any reason to think they were lovers. James had to protect Q, to shield him; like an older brother, not a lover. M breathed in relief for that. She could keep them both, maybe even use James's need to protect Q, and Q’s need to know that James was safe to tie them to MI6 and herself so deeply that they would never even think about willingly leaving.

***

While Bond was still talking the door of M’s office flew open. Q was the only one who looked perturbed by the action but M and 007 kept talking like nothing happened, too used to that kind of interruption to really care.

James rose from his chair before the newcomers had the time to move behind him. As he did so he nodded politely to M who was watching the scene like it was the most natural thing happening in MI6.

“You know the procedure, Bond. They'll take you to medical, and then they'll take you to the interrogation room where you are going to tell them what you just told me. You are dismissed for now.” She watched Q's eyes, and she saw a flash of pure fear there. The younger man knew what was going to happen. He wasn't as blind about the world as she thought. “You stay, Quartermaster, we still have things to talk about.”

***

As usual medical was too white and too anonymous. A place you went to die. That's the reason why James always hated going there even when he was wounded and in need of stitches. The doctor, a faceless middle aged man with eyes too cold to work anywhere else, looked at Bond as he was a strange animal and almost threw a scrub at him, pointing the locked door behind himself.

Bond knew he didn't have a lot of time to undress. The small bathroom was almost claustrophobic. James changed quickly, and left his clothes on the floor just to mess up the impossible neatness of the place. When he came back into the room Bond realized that his two watching dogs hadn’t left, but he was not surprised. They were trying to look indifferent but it was clear that they had been near the door the whole time, waiting for even the smallest suspect noise to enter with guns in hand.

They had to be new to the job, probably former policemen or guards well trained with weapons but totally unfit to deal with torture, and James was almost sorry for them. They were looking at his legs and arms, and James wondered how fast they could lose their breakfast if he turned now showing his back. But he decided otherwise. But it was better to keep the newbies as long as possible. Bond knew for sure the men appointed to lead his interrogation were going to be very skilled, and heartless. More than once he had been the man leading the interrogations.  

“On the table, please.”

James did what he was told, and waited while the doctor took note of every scar. He let the man, whose hands were as cold as ice, touch and prick and poke at his discolorations  one after one until he was satisfied and had filled two pages on his medical records.

“I can see signs of ropes and handcuffs...”

“I was handcuffed to a chair, the ropes were used to keep me motionless during some of the torture. Before you ask, chains were used too.”

“Your back if you please, Mr. Bond”

James slowly slipped the upper part of his coat showing the terrible state of his back. It was like looking at a battlefield. Burns, scars and cuts covered every inch of his skin, and the doctor almost needed the double of the pages he had filled only a few moment before to take note of everything.

“The one on your shoulder...”

“That one has nothing to do with my imprisonment. It was the bullet of a rifle, shot by Miss Moneypenny in my last mission in Turkey. It tore my muscles, almost severed the tendons, and I had to dig it out with my fingers after a fall in the rapids. So I really don't think you can blame Mr Silva for that one.”

One of the two guards jumped like a spring. “What did you just say?” That was exactly the reaction James was hoping for.

“You heard me. I don't think I need to repeat myself.” The one who spoken left the room so fast they almost swamped the doctor. James knew that his suspicions were right. M didn't react to their intrusion in her office. That, and the fact that the two men were new to the job made James suspect they were working for someone else.

When the door opened again James could see the agent escorting another man. He was carrying himself like someone who knew what life on the field was, and when his eyes fell on James's scars, Bond knew he too had suffered in the hands of his enemies. Too bad that James himself suffered a lot more in the hands of so called friends. Now all reminded was to see what the man was going to do, and how.

***

Mallory had been informed that someone was in M's office by the woman herself, but she didn't say who her guest was. She had just asked for two guards ready to escort someone to medical. He didn't thought much about that request and sent two agents without an important role in the organization. When one of them came back running Mallory realized his mistake.

“Sir. Former agent 007 is in Medical...” Mallory raised his head, suddenly interested. James Bond was like a living legend inside MI6 and the offices of real power. He had many admirers among the politicians and as many detractors. The Queen herself asked. more than once, if his body had been found.   

“There isn't any former 007. If he's alive and he'll get permission to come back in the field, he'll be 007 to you.” The younger man knew he made a mistake that could cost him years behind a desk.

“He's claiming he was in the hands of Silva, sir.”

Mallory ran to Medical like a whole army of demons were following him. He didn't even stop to knock, simply opened the door so wide for a moment he was sure it was going to fall on him. James Bond was there, almost naked, his body marked and broken and yet able to keep the man alive. His eyes fell on the piercings adorning Bonds tormented nipples, and he knew that what was telling was the truth, maybe they finally had something to lead them to Silva and his organization. He was going to open his mouth when --

“Gareth, good, you are here. I'll need your help for Agent 007's evaluation. I'm sure you realize how important is that we know everything he can tell us. Sadly, as your office just ordered me, we'll have to do that your way.”

Mallory didn't have a quick answer for M, and that was his ruin.

“Doctor, have you finished here?” When the man only nodded M put her attention on Mallory again. “We'll escort 007 to the basement, and we'll let him rest for a few hours. Then you can start.”

James almost was sad for Mallory. M had royally trapped him, and he didn't even realize what she was doing until it was too late. But he had more important things to think about right now, like the place where they were taking him.. He didn't know in which branch Mallory worked, but he knew about the man himself. He had read his file. He had been an IRA prisoner and he had learned their ways of interrogation, which he used against the terrorist themselves once he was free again. If he was the one who were going to evaluate him, James was in big trouble. While he jumped from the table and tried to cover himself a bit not to give the whole MI6 a free show. He lightly brushed his piercings, Raoul's mark of ownership over him, and he knew their plan was going to work.

“Follow me please, Agent Bond.”

James nodded. Mallory was on edge and his men were nervous. It was a dangerous game the one he was playing, but James followed the unwritten rules as the good soldier he was.   

“I had a feeling I was a former Agent, for someone.”

Mallory didn't stop to look at him, but James could see the tension in his back. “There is no such thing as a former Agent, 007, or do you need to tell me something before we start your questioning and evaluation?”

James knew well that Mallory was asking him if he went rogue in his months away from MI6’s always watching eyes. Bond too wanted to know something about this Mallory. He had seen the man’s eyes going wide when he saw the piercings, and almost asked if during his imprisonment by IRA he went through the same treatment. That would explain a lot of his reactions.

“Nothing that won't come out during my interrogation, Mallory.” The man stopped in front of a metal door that was unlocked the old way, with a key and using a lot of force because the old stones of the were swelling because of the humidity.

“We'll see Bond, we'll see.” Those were the last words James heard before he was left alone in the cell.

James was pretty sure that the two guards were outside, so he simply laid down on the metal bunk bolted to the wall and waited. He felt exhausted after coming back to London and the long night spent with Q. Apparently he hadn’t been ready for the rollercoaster of emotions and feelings. As soon as his eyes closed in the semi-darkness of the cell his mind ran to Raoul. He wondered where the man was, if he was ok. He wasn't happy when he realized that in order to complete their plan he had to leave his side. But that was the last time, because James swore to God that if they were going to come out of that mess alive, he was going to be glued to Raoul's side until his last day on this world.

Suddenly a strong light literally exploded in the room, and Bond was so startled he almost fell from the bunk where he was sleeping. It looked like the whole ceiling was covered in high voltage lamps, and there wasn't a direction where Bond could look to try to shield his eyes. But when he thought he couldn't stand the lights a moment longer, and his eyes were already watering and burning, the lights were switched off once again.

So that was their game now? To deprive him of sleep so that his mind would crack and his body break? You had to wonder when your colleagues and so called friends were even worse than your enemies.

James fought for a long time against the need to sleep, but he knew that soon his body was going to crash again, and he wasn't eager  to find out what Mallory was going to do next. His mind was acting against him as well, too awake to let him rest. When he drifted off, his is new sleep was broken when white noise erupted from nowhere. The noises echoed into james’ brain, giving him a headache from hell, but the man bit the bullet and smiled in the dark, sure that someone was monitoring his every move. He wasn't going to give them any other satisfaction. Once again he was glad for his mind that always permitted him to escape and find a refuge inside himself. Mallory knew what he was doing, that was true, but he had no idea about how James coped with torture because M herself didn't know. That gave him an advantage he was going to use.

He let his mind take him back into a small flat in London. A flat that was bought by a middle aged woman who never lived there,  and that for a fair amount of money accepted to put her name on the papers without asking any questions to the two gentlemen that were going to occupy her house. He went back to the small bedroom, cozy and manly in the same time, and its bed, the bigger thing in the room, and the two men lying there, naked and at ease with their bodies, still touching each other even after hours of lust and passion. They needed more; they were starving for the touch, the feeling of skin on skin, the taste of the other's mouth...

James laid on his stomach between Tiago's legs, his head pillowed on his lover's chest as he listened to the quiet beat of his heart. The older man was reading to him, and  James was at peace with the world and his own soul.

“ O te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio

o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego:

te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,

secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.

Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva

dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores,

y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo

el apretado aroma que ascendió de la tierra.

Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde,

te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:

así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera,

sino así de este modo en que no soy ni eres,

tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía,

tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño.”

Tiago's voice was with him all the time, keeping the noises away. Neruda’s words, spoken with love and adoration, kept James’ mind sane. He didn’t even think about the men outside his cell anymore. He didn’t care if they were waiting for him to break, they would have to wait a lot longer.  

And then, as suddenly as they started, the noises ceased and the door of his cell was unlocked. A tray with some food was put on his bunk by one of his guards, and the man looked almost surprised to see Bond calm and quiet like nothing happened all night. He had changed his suit. That could be an elaborate plan to confuse James, but he was inclined to believe that it simply meant it was a new day.

***

James looked at the food, and then at the man, and simply nodded. He knew well that there was a good possibility that the food was drugged already, he would have waited a few meals before to begin to add drugs, just to lull his prisoner in a false sense of safety, but he didn't know what Mallory had in mind, and how much time the man had to prepare him. In any case, he knew he had to eat, or someone would have come to force the food down his throat without many compliments, so he just swallowed the tasteless and too pale eggs and bread without thinking too much about anything.

When the plate was empty the guard left, and for a moment nothing happened. Mallory really was good in his job. IRA and MI6 both taught him well.  Bond knew he soon was going to regret those instinctual reactions as soon as the sleep deprivation hit.

James only breathed again when the noises erupted in the room, and the lights burned his tired eyes. He lay down on the bunk and covered his eyes with his arms. Even that wasn't enough to dim the burning sensation: he could still see red and yellow and all their nuances.

Time later, James didn't have any way to say how much, the door was unlocked again. This time only the lights were cut off.

The same guard, this time with a bottle of water, was looking at James like he was an alien. 007 didn't move from his bunk, he simply turned his head to watch the newcomer.

“Is there something I can do for you?” The guard didn’t expect a conversation, they never did, and this one almost jumped in surprise. James’s voice was still strong and steady, enough to surclas the noises. Soon he took back control and James could observe his jaws clamp, The man was ashamed of his reaction and even more of being caught by Bond. He threw the bottle in the general direction of the bunk and left cursing under his breath against old men too stubborn to retire without a fuss. James almost felt sad for that man, who was stupid enough to think that being a double-oh agent was something to envy. He had no idea of the real meaning of that title. The man was all muscles, but he couldn’t think for himself and he lacked the poker-face that was necessary for the job. If he was lucky he would get a nice desk in some office and live his life able to tell people he worked for National Security. If he wasn’t he would die a honorless death somewhere and his name would be forgotten in a  few weeks.

He was thirsty - like a man trapped in the desert - but wasn’t going to drink in front of his jailer. To show weakness wasn’t in his agenda. Only when he finished the whole bottle he realized his mistake. There was something missing in his cell, but in a corner there was a small, nice bucket.

That was his toilet, and James really hoped that the agents watching him didn't have a kink for watersports or it would be a little creepy to imagine them watching him taking a pee. But he had had a lot worse during some his mission. If they thought they were going to humiliate him with that, they were making a huge mistake.

The door was unlocked once more that day. This time an unknown guard was carrying a tray with his supper. They were giving him ways to keep track of the time. James couldn't understand if that was a game Mallory was playing, or the simple stupidity of two guards untrained. Once again it was tasteless food and water, and once again he was forced to eat while the other man watched his every move. It was starting to get annoying. The surveillance, the noises, the lights, the loss of sleep, everything grated against James' nerves so when the man left and he was sure that nothing more was going to happen for the day, James curled up in his bunk and let Tiago's voice take care of his mind again.

Para mi corazón basta tu pecho,

para tu libertad bastan mis alas.

Desde mi boca llegará hasta el cielo,

lo que estaba dormido sobre tu alma.

Es en ti la ilusión de cada día.

Llegas como el rocío a las corolas.

Socavas el horizonte con tu ausencia.

Eternamente en fuga como la ola.

He dicho que cantabas en el viento como los pinos y como los mástiles.

Como ellos eres alta y taciturna.

Y entristeces de pronto, como un viaje.

Acogedora como un viejo camino.

Te pueblan ecos y voces nostálgicas.

Yo desperté y a veces emigran y huyen pájaros que dormían en tu alma.

He wished he was the lover the poem talked about. He wished he was in Raoul's arms, lulled by his breath and voice, pillowed on his chest, happy and safe like he was only with the man by his side. He had given up everything for Raoul, Yes, he was scared, and sometimes doubts creeped in the back of his mind, whispering to him but if Bond was sure of something was that his place was by his husband’s side. He just wished everything was already done and he could be back with his lover once and for all.

The third and fourth days passed without incidents. James became more and more tired, and his body and mind began to scream for rest. His two guards weren’t able to make him move from his bunk more than was strictly necessary, even if the agent really would love to punch both of them on their mouths.

Their voices were too loud, and their accents too strong and marked. How could they hope to become good spies if they couldn’t even speak their own language? James was tempted to gift them both with a free English class.  

More than once  he had to bite his tongue until he felt the coppery taste of blood into his mouth so as not to say that to their faces. He knew well that Mallory was starting to count the minutes to his breakdown, and he was damned if he was going to give the man what he wanted.

Then the days began to melt together. James couldn't tell when things changed. Tiago's voice was fading. His words weren't able to keep his mind focused on the poems he used to read at night, so James's mind ran down paths the man really didn't want to walk. The first time they really fought.

James had been sure that their first fight was going to be because of Tiago's jealousy, or because of Tiago's need to show his claiming to everyone, or because of something related to a mission, but he never thought that it would be his own fault.

He didn't even really remember what had happened. The day had started normally, or at least as normal as any day could start for people in their kind of work. At five in the morning James was already at the headquarter, working on some reports that M asked. The peace was shattered when Q’s voice resounded from his office. The younger man was cursing like a sailor and James should know, he had been one. It was so unusual that he knew he wasn’t going to be able to work until he found out what was happening. To know that Q was upset was strangely working the agent up.  

He was by the man's side in less than a minute. Q was working on the details of a mission for a double-oh agent, and the details were very explicit. It looked like an undercover mission in a fetish club. Something that M would have had never allowed if it wasn't important.

“ What's that?” ‘That’ was a list of limits and kinks that would have had even the strongest Masters blush like virgins. “That, Bond, is what Agent Rodriguez is expected to do in his next mission. And I really shouldn't talk about that, above all with you.”

James blood froze in his veins. So Tiago was going to be a Master for someone else. He was going to show his power and his claim over someone he didn't even know, even if he promised that that part of him would have been James' and James' alone. The mantra he was repeating, the same one that every agent was taught on his first day, it's only a mission, wasn't having any calming effect on him. He couldn't stop himself from feeling betrayed.

“ When he's supposed to go?” Q looked at him like he had suddenly lost his mind. “His mission began three hours ago, James.” But only when the younger man saw the hurt expression on Bond's face, even if it lasted only for a second, he realized his mistake. “You didn't know?” It was a stupid question, but it also was the only thing Q could think to say. James simply shook his head.

“ I have work to do. See you around.” James knew he was behaving like a high schooler, but he expected  Tiago would tell him he was going away even if he didn’t explain why.

Instead of  going back to his office, James went to the weaponry and proceeded to shame all the agents there, hitting one target after the other without pause.  Q found him there long after lunch time, when James was the only one left.

“ I thought you would be hungry.” James was expecting to see Q with a plate or a sandwich, but his hands were empty.

“Are you suggesting I should eat you, Q? I didn't know you fancied cannibalism.”

“ Nothing so gross, James, and raw skin is hard on your stomach. I'm suggesting you take me out of here. There is a nice pub not too far away, and they serve food at any hour. So... what do you say?”

James found himself in the place that Q suggested less than half hour later, and he had to admit that the younger man had good taste. For the first time in the day James didn't feel like he was  locked in a cage.

“ He'll be back James. You’ll work it out, whatever it is.” Q didn't ask what upset James so much, he didn't have the right to put his nose in his friend's business, but he was pretty sure that it was deeper than Rodriguez simply going away to a mission without telling James.

The blond man simply nodded and kept chewing his burger. He was glad about the burst of flavor that invaded his mouth. The food kept him focused and Q's company was always good: he felt better with himself and the world around him.

Tiango’s  mission lasted more than five week and during that time James tried not to think about their bed - too big for a single person - and above all he tried not to think about the mission and what Tiango was doing.  

Fortunately some of his own mission  helped to vent his insecurities and distract him from the  jealousy that rose up every time he thought about Tiago. James always thought that he was immune to the feeling, and find out that was a lie wasn't easy to accept.

But what was even harder was to listen to the agents that acted as backup for Tiago. They were back, and that meant only one thing, Tiago was coming home too. James was with Q. He finally convinced the younger man to eat something after fortyeight hours when some exhausted agents enter the break-room looking for tea and coffee.

“ Fucking hell. I'm glad he's one of the good guys. That man was born to hold a whip and give orders. Did you see how he reacted when that bunch of subs kneeled at his feet begging him to take them to his bed? Every last one of them would have sold his own family to have a chance with Rodriguez.”

James gripped his cup so hard that Q was sure he could hear the china crack. Just his luck that he couldn't even have some tea in peace.

“ I wonder how many of them he bedded. After all, a man like him, loves sex in every form right? He probably didn't even have the heart to turn them down, some of them were such pretty little things it would have been a sin not to taste them at least once.”

“ And don't forget how ready they were to please him.” The agents began to laugh and didn't even notice when Q grabbed Jamesì arm and literally dragged him away.

“ Don't listen to them, Don't you dare to listen to them. You are back from a mission of your own - go home, take a shower, eat something, and wait for him to come back - but don't you dare to listen to them. James, you know agent Rodriguez better than anyone else.  You know that if he did anything he did it for the sake of the mission, nothing else.”

Q's speech didn't exactly help James to feel better, but it at least reminded him that there was a mission and Tiago wasn't simply having fun with others in order to break his heart.

James realized he was exhausted when he was still in the shower. His body was begging him to rest, but his mind was still too full of the other agent’s words to let him rest without alcohol. He knew it was a poor way to deal with what was bothering him, and he also knew that probably would have been better for him to be totally sober while facing Tiago, but James was known to never do things good for him after all. James passed out on their bed a long before Tiago came back home.

When Tiago slipped under the duvet James was still able to feel him, but didn't want to move, he wasn't ready to face him yet. Of course his body betrayed him shivering and trying to squirm away from his touch when the older man tried to take him into his arms.

“ James?” Tiago's voice sounded exhausted. Not at all like James had imagined it. He knew, he knew he should have let the night pass, and talk to Tiago in the morning, without letting his rage and insecurities speak for him, but his tongue moved too fast for his mind to stop it.

“ Did you have fun... Master? Were they sweet enough for your taste? Did they give you enough pleasure with their pain? Was their pain threshold high enough for you? Because I know well you like to play hard... Master.”

He almost spit that word with so much disrespect that James felt Tiago's body tense even before the man unleashed on him. Bond knew how seriously Tiago took that alternative lifestyle, that it wasn't a simple hobby for him and for sure it wasn't only a way to vent after a mission. It was who Tiago was. He was a Dominating man, and he was clear with James about that since the first moment them both realized that things between them were getting serious. And it was serious for James too, even if in the beginning he was scared to show his submission, even if for almost all his life he tried to destroy that side of himself. And he hated so much to disrespect Tiago and his role, but he was scared, and it hurt when James knew that his Dom topped other subs, that he showed his power to others, when that side of Tiago belonged to him and him alone.

“ You better apologize, James. Now. And don't you ever dare to talk to me like that again.”

And James made the last mistake of the day. He spit on Tiago's face. “Fuck you Tiago. You don't get to order me around.”

The older man was on the floor in a second, moving so fast that James only realized that when he felt the cold air on his naked body when the duvet was thrown away. He looked at Tiago and only had the time to try to cover himself when Tiago was on him again, holding a ball gag. He could only shake his head, begging Tiago not to use it. He always had hated to be gagged. He knew he was safe with Tiago, even when the man was rightfully pissed off, but to be kept from talking, it was too much like in his childhood, when no one was interested in what he had to say, and no one gave enough to wonder if he wanted to talk about what he was feeling, losing his parents and been suddenly alone.

Tiago Was having any of that. With a graceful movement he had James trapped between the pillows and the wall, and he was pushing the ball between James's lips, he didn't care if the other man had his mouth shut and he had to cut his lips to force James to open them, and he didn't care if he had to use his strength to push the ball between his teeth. In a few moments he had James forced to silence, and was dragging him from the bed on the floor, forcing him to kneel.

“ Do you want to know James? Do you really want to know? They were perfect. So young, so eager to please me.”

James was shaking his head, he wanted to scream, wanted to beg him to stop, Tiago's words hurt so much, he didn't want to listen. And his hands, his words were like knives hurting his heart, but his hands were caressing his body like he was something precious, and James was so confused. So lost.

“ One of them, his skin was so white, like pure snow, and his eyes, James, his eyes were so black and so deep. He was begging me so sweetly. You should have heard him, you should have heard his moanings and whimpers. He was such an exquisite puppy. When I gave him the hundredth stroke with my whip he begged me for more, you know? And he was so young, and so at ease with his submission. He didn't want anything else, only to please me and to serve my cock.”

James's beautiful blue eyes were full of tears and pain. He was shaking his head so hard he was hurting himself, and only stopped when Tiago took his face in his hands, forcing James to look straight into his eyes. Tiago's eyes were so cold, but again, his hands were caressing his face, taking away his tears, making him feel loved even if Tiago's words were tearing him apart.

“ My target's sub, he was delicious. His mouth was shaped, like Leonardo himself drawn it. He looked perfect with his mouth around my cock. Taking care of me after a session I had with an untrained sub. It's so sweet to break a new one, James. So sweet to know that soon someone would enjoy your work, but you were the first, and no one will ever be able to take that from you. It's so sweet to know that no matter how many Doms will top him, you shaped him, you created him, and his first pain and pleasure in this new life was yours and yours alone.”

James gave a strangled cry that even the gag could totally annul, and begun to thrash, he wanted to go away, he couldn't stand to listen to Tiago anymore. He just wanted to run away and hide somewhere where Tiago's words couldn't reach him. But the older man wasn't having any of that. He kept James in his place.

“ And then I come home, to my own lover, to my husband, and he doesn't find anything better than to disrespect me like you did. I came home to you, James, and all you were able to do was to spit on me and what I am. Not even one of those pups, not even one of those little thing would ever dared to disrespect me like that. They were new to this, and still more well behaved than you are. Did I make a mistake James? Should I have stayed one more day? Choose one of them to warm my bed, or even more than one?”

James shook his head again, so strong that some of his hair were left between Tiago's finger, but the man didn't even feel the pain. His mind was showing him everything that Tiago could have done with those subs, so ready to please him, and he could see the man, his man, happy with them, a lot happier than he was now, with him.

“ No?” James shook his head again. “But how can I be sure that that's the truth James? How can I be sure that I really didn't make a mistake? I think you'll have to think about what you did. I think you'll have to stay on the floor, and think about what you did and why. And I don't want to hear a single sound from you. Tomorrow, I'll take the gag from you and you'll tell me. But for now, James, I want you to think about those subs and what they would have done, and then I want you to think about your behavior, and tell me exactly why you are being punished right now. Think carefully, because you'll only have a chance.”

James's spent his night crying silently. He didn't even dare to look at the bed where Tiago was lying. And he never knew that the man, no matter how exhausted he was, never slept that night, listening to James's every small movement, ready to act if he suspected that his lover was in physical distress, and hating every moment of the emotional agony that James was living, even if it was for his own good.

And in the morning he didn't dare to move when he felt Tiago start his morning routine, or when the older man was back in the room, James didn't even realize that Tiago was standing near him until he felt his hand between his hair and was forced to raise his head. His back was screaming because of the arched position that James kept for hours, and his head was hurting because of tiredness and the hours spent simply crying. The tears were still wetting his face, but James didn't have the force to care.

Tiago carefully untied the gag and took it from James's mouth, slowly massaging his jaws, knowing well that James was probably in a lot of pain, but it wasn't time for him to rest yet. “Tell me James. Tell me why you were punished.”

James's voice was hoarse and his throat dry, and even swallowing was painful, but he needed to answer, he needed to show Tiago he understood. “Because... because I disrespected you, and what we have together. Because I doubted you.”

Tiago exhaled slowly. He knew why James behaved like he did. He knew he was hurt and scared, but he couldn't have done anything else. He was only doing his job after all.

“ You know there is only another thing you have to say before this is over.” And Tiago really wanted it to be over. He wanted to take James in his arms and forget about the night.

“ Thank you, Tiago.” And his name said with James's voice full of sorrow and regrets sounded a lot like Master.

The older man took James in his arms and helped him to raise. “It's over my love. I'm so proud of you. And now everything is over. You did well, my James.”

This time James' tears were of joy and liberation. He spent hours crying in Tiago's arms, all the emotions and feelings and fears of the past weeks were leaving his body with his tears, and James fell asleep in Tiago's arms, because neither of them had a better place to be, and both of them needed time to be back together, and closer than they were only a few hours ago.

James woke up hours later. He lost a whole day, and he didn't even care. He was exhausted, and needed the rest. Tiago was awake too. James was feeling his fingers moving over his back, soothing him even when James didn't realize he was still tense.

“ Are you calmer now, mi amor?” James nodded, his head still pillowed on Tiago's chest, over his heart.

“ I feel like I should apologize more, and again.”

Tiago put a finger under James's chin and forced the man to raise his eyes, without stopping the gentle touch on his back.

“ And why is that, James?” James knew that Tiago wasn't going to let him cast his gaze again, he needed to talk watching Tiago's stunning dark eyes. It always was the harder part of that side of their relationship; to face and voice his feelings and his fears.

“ Because I shouldn't have listened to others, I shouldn't have supposed to know what happened. I should have come to you and asked, not attacking you and forcing your hand. I should have understood that... that you would have never hurt me intentionally...”

Tiago kissed him, slowly, with a gentleness no one would have guessed he could handle, and that he showed only to James.

“ I had to prove to my target that I was a powerful Master. And I did. But I only gave pain, no matter how many young subs he kept throwing at me. I told him I was in a very serious and very exclusive relationship, and that I wasn't going to break my word. When he asked me why I didn't take my sub with me, I told him that I would have never allowed anyone else to see how perfect you are, because I was tired to put Masters at their places for daring to try to steal you from me. He was so impressed with what I could do with a whip and blades that let it go after the second week. He was an idiot, but he knew he was better not piss me off, above all after I skinned the back of a Master who dared to look at me the wrong way. That really was impressive if I can tell that myself.”

“ You are a bastard, Tiago.” The Spaniard slapped James's ass, hard, and his white skin begun to to turn pink in a second. “But I think I deserved your words.”

Tiago sighed loudly. “I know they hurt you, mi amor, but they taught you the lesson, right?” James simple nodded. Tiago knew how to punish, and he never had to repeat his lessons after all.

He didn't mean to remember that day. He fought so hard to stop the memory, but he was too tired to force his thoughts toward other memories, memories that could have helped him to keep his cool head, but James's mind was so tired that he wasn't even able to say what was real and what was an hallucination anymore. He could hear Tiago's voice. He could hear his words even if the noises were so strong that they could almost cover the poem Tiago was reading. He could hear his voice, but he could also see him.

He was there, in the cell with him, and for a moment James was tempted to go to him. He was tempted to talk to him, to tell him to go away. It was too soon. They were going to find him, and they were going to take him away.

He couldn't allow that to happen. He couldn't allow them to take Raul away. Because that was Raoul too.

Bond needed a moment to remember that Tiago and Raoul were the same person. But Tiago was gone, he was living only in his mind and heart now. But those places belonged to Raoul too. Tears burned his tired eyes while James tried to take comfort from the silent imagine of his lover, watching him from a dark corner, whispering to him to be strong. It was his voice who took James into unconsciousness, or at least closer to that state.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes está noche.

Escribir, por ejemplo: «La noche esta estrellada,

y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos».

El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.

Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.

En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.

La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.

Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.

Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.

Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.

Oír la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella.

Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.

Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla.

La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.

Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.

Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.

Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.

Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.

De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.

Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.

Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

Porque en noches como esta la tuve entre mis brazos,

mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa,

y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.

Chapter Text

The morning after something changed in James's routine. His two watching dogs came into his cell together, and without a word forced him to leave his bunk, and to follow him; it looked like it was finally time. Bond would have liked more to be dressed for his interrogation, but he knew to ask for at least a pair of trousers was probably useless, so he kept his mouth shut while he forced his feet to carry him.

His body was exhausted, his eyes red and probably bloodshot, and his mind almost totally out of control, and Mallory was going to use all of that to break him, well, good luck with that.

The room where his doggies took James was ice cold, and he couldn't help but shivering as soon as his bare feet touched the floor, and his almost naked body was pushed on a very uncomfortable chair. Everything was perfect, James was honest enough to admit that, at least in his mind. Mallory really knew what he was doing, and he didn't even use drugs. Any other agent, with less experience, and less intelligence would have done that, ricking to jeopardy the whole interrogation.

When Mallory arrived he was carrying steaming cups that made James smirk. If he was going to be the good cop, he could only imagine who the bad cop was going to be.

“Thanks agents, you can go now...” Mallory spoke to the guards before than to James himself. Damn, the man was a good actor. But clearly he forgot to inform the other two man, because even if obviously uncomfortable he felt the need to speak.

“Sir, the rules say that during an hostile's interrogation...” Gareth didn't even let them finish.

“I don't see any hostile here, agent. 007 is here to give his statement about his own imprisonment and his meeting with Raoul Silva, nothing more, nothing less. And now, before I'm forced to repeat myself, leave us alone.” James could see the uneasiness all over the men's face, but they knew when a superior gave them an order, and they already abused Mallory's patience once.

“Now, Mr. Bond, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. I'm not your enemy, but this organization and this whole Country are under attack, so you'll have to understand the harsh treatment we reserved for you.”

James could have laughed to those words, but he really wanted to see where the other man was going with his kind words and the threats hidden behind them.

“You could have asked me the day I came back, and my answers wouldn't have been any different from what I'll tell you now, Mallory.”

“Talking about that day you came back, Mr Bond, care to explain to me why you visited our Quartermaster instead than coming back here?”

James knew the time to play had finally come.

“First of all because I had no idea where here was. I was taken a long before the attack to the former HQ, and to go there would have been useless. Second because I knew Q wasn't going to shot me at first sight, and I couldn't be sure about anyone else. I'm not a newcomer, I know all too well I had good chances to be killed as soon as I put feet in MI6 possession again.”

“And yet, you came back. Why not to stay hidden, Mr. Bond, why to risk your own life if you didn't trust us to have your back?”

“Because you didn't. You did nothing to gain my trust, and you did nothing to cover my back. I know it's the way this place work, and you know too. But I was an agent long enough to know when I am on my own. I served this country long enough to know that the lives of the agents are nothing compared to the safety of the Country. We all sacrificed something for this job. I sacrificed my trust in you as people, but not as an organization. And I came back because this Country is the only thing I have left to fight for, and Q is the only person whose life is important enough for me to come back.”

“Are you in love with Q, Mr. Bond?” This time James openly laughed on Mallory's face. Of course he was going to think that, and it was the prove that the man, with all his skills and with all his composure didn't know a damn thing about James.

“No, I'm not. He's the only person in this place I can call a friend, and for a fried I was ready to risk a bullet. As you said you are under attack, and I can help, because Mallory, if the two that you had watching me, are the new agents you have in your hands, you can only hope that Q and his codes can catch Silva before he decides it's time to show here personally. They have no idea how to fight this war Mallory, because this is a war, it's not a simple plan to create chaos, it a plan to destroy everything that you hold dear. And sadly, Q, with his genius mind, and his skills, is not on Silva's league.”

That got the reaction he was waiting for. Mallory reacted like a punch hit him from nowhere and stared at James like he suddenly grew a second head.

“What does that mean?”

“Simply what I said.” James's voice sounded weak and exhausted, and he didn't even have to fake that. He wanted a hot shower and some real clothes. And curl up in a ball to sleep for at least a day.

“Explain yourself, Bond. What do you mean?”

“I saw him working with laptops. I saw him hide himself in plain sight, and no one knew where to look for him, I saw him take control of MI6 computers without the Quartermaster realize that. He's better than the whole army of hackers and experts you have here Mallory, and he knows that. You need to fight this war the old way, and for that you need old men, used to fight on the field. Now it's your choice Mallory, you can keep wondering where my loyalty lays or you can clean my name and let me do my job. You can't have both.”

“We’re not done here Bond. How were you able to get free? With your wounds and your weak state I can't believe that you escaped from Silva and his whole organization.”

“Of course I didn't. It's not like I could have freed myself from the chains and run away from an island lost in the ocean.”

“Then, agent, care to explain what happened?” James smirked at him and a flash of something twisted and cruel enlightened his blue eyes for a moment. “You know who I am, Mallory, you probably read my file for six days before to come here and face me. You know how I came out from missions that were fucked up, using sex as a weapon. I whored myself to Silva. That was the only way I could hope to get free. And if the price for that only chance I got to escape was to be his loyal pet, well, I don't regret I used it.” When he saw the shocked expression on Mallory's face James smiled. “Oh please, don't look at me like you didn't know. I'm sure the doctor told you about my back and my ass. So yes I had to endure some rough sex. Nothing that didn't happen before.”

“You weren't raped before, Bond. You were tortured and almost killed more times that should be allowed to a man, but you never were raped. I know what the doctor saw on your body, and I can recognize the signs. It wasn't rough sex, it was rape, and I need to know if you are stable enough to fight for us. I need to know if you can face the man who did this to you and do your job like it was simply another mission, and not something so personal...”

“Sometimes personal is not a bad thing in this field, Mallory. Sometimes is what gives you enough force to keep going. I want my revenge, and for that I won't stop until I'll have it. In me you have your best option to catch Silva.”

And that wasn't even a lie. He really was there for his revenge, and he really was the one who was going to end the game. But not like Mallory thought, not like M, the real puppet-master behind this interrogation thought.

Mallory looked lost in his thoughts, but after a few moments of silence, he looked Bond in the eyes and there he read his determination. The man was going after his revenge, with their help or alone, and Mallory really didn't want to have an uncontrolled 007 on the loose.

“I think that's all Bond. Go home, take a shower and rest. Q is going to call you in the next 15 hours. I'm sorry I can't give you more time. There is a car already waiting for you, it'll take you at your apartment. The new one.” James simply nodded and raised from the chair. He was freezing, but wasn't going to show that weakness to anyone. “And 007, welcome back.” Before the door locked behind him, Mallory could hear James's answer. “I never went away.” And he wasn't sure what Bond meant with those words, he only knew he had a bad feeling in his stomach.

***

Q was making sure that everyone under his responsibility was leaving the place safely. He was the Quartermaster yes, and for that reason many had tried to make him leave already, but he wasn't going to be a rat and abandon the sinking ship first.

“What are you still doing here?”

James's voice sounded tired but still strong, in truth it was stronger and steadier that it had sounded in a very long time. Everyone who wasn't a field agent had been ordered to evacuate, and Q himself had to admit defeat. He wasn't able to stop the virus that was slowly taking down the whole MI6 system.

“I told you to evacuate...”

“Good Lord, James. Perhaps you can provide some answers.”

“There isn't much time. You need to leave.”

“Me? It looks like the whole world has gone to shit!” He hastily packed his laptop with a few external hard drives and power supplies. He slowed down when he came to the startling realization.

“There is something you are not telling me. Do you know who is behind the attack?”

“Just go.”

“James? Are you... behind all of this?” Q swallowed hard. He couldn't believe the number one hero among every agent in the service would eventually betray them. Sure James didn't have the cleanest record, but never in this magnitude would he rebel. Behind James, a tall blond man appeared among the shadows. The well-dressed man made his way towards the large display of the Q-branch where Q was standing. His smile was deadly and for the first time Q truly feared for his own life.

“Nice to see a familiar face. I promised James that I won't hurt you.” His Spanish accent was almost too sweet while all the alarms were still going off with their sharp noises.

“Who are you? What's going on here? James?”

“Leave. This isn't about you.” Q looked at the tired agent. He finally understood. The pain and betrayal to keep him as an agent finally broke James, and the man behind him, the man who obviously had his back, was the one who now owned his loyalty.

“Good luck... James.” The was pain in Q's voice, and some regret too. It was clear that he would never see James again.

Slowly, one after the other the screens shut down, leaving only blackness where there should have been codes and maps and agents moving around the world. The now silent screens mirrored James and Raoul, almost one single person because of the closeness of their bodies. So different, like fire and ice, water and air. James quiet and deep in thoughts, Raoul an always moving, always planning ball of energy, but their eyes, their eyes were the same.

Eyes of men with broken souls. Eyes of men betrayed too many times and pushed so hard that they finally snapped. Eyes of men denied even the knowledge that they were still human being and used only as objects; and in the same time eyes of men who finally found where to belong, who finally found someone to belong with. But above all, James and Raoul's eyes were eyes of men ready to finally take their revenge and close a whole chapter of their lives.

“This,” Raoul whispered in James' ear, pointing out the screens, “was all part of my original plan, mi amor. All of this but not you by my side...”

James shivered for a moment before he gain back his composure. “You thought I would have been by her side...”

“Yes James. I was sure of that. But I had something planned for you too, because even if I was sure you had forgotten about me, I never forgot you. And I was going to give you a honored place in my revenge.”

James turned so that he could watch Raoul in the eyes and not through the screens. They had a little time yet, before the end. Only M and Mallory and probably Tanner, always too loyal for his own good, were still there, fighting against time to save everything possible from MI6 fall. And of course Moneypenny, the always present secretary that knew more secrets than any living Agent. Yes, they had still a little time before they headed to M's office.

“What were you going to do to me?” Raoul was looking at James with a serious expression on his face. “Why do you want to know, mi amor?” That was a good question, and James wasn't sure he really had an answer for that. “Just tell me. I want to know.”

“I had planned to take you here, James. Over the Quartermaster desk, over the desk that always mean safety and help for Agents during missions. I had planned to have you tied, watching M's corpse, I had planned to use a small, sharp knife to cut your beautiful wrists so that you were going to slowly bleed while I took you...” Raoul waited for James' reaction, but when he saw his husband's body shake he realized it wasn't fear. James' pupils were blown. He was aroused.

“I had planned to take you hard, James, no care, no gentleness, it would have been only for my pleasure, James. One last time to lose myself into you, one last time to show you that I was still alive, no matter what you and M had done, and that I was taking my revenge destroying everything you two had loved. I was going to destroy your body with pain so deep you were going to scream for me even if the blood loss was already making you weak and lethargic. And I was going to feel your life leave your body James, while coming into you, humiliating you into your downfall.”

James was speechless. He asked for the truth and he got it. And even if he knew that was pure craziness, he was turned on by what Raoul just told him.

“I... I can think of so many worse ways to go.” And that was the truth. “You are totally crazy, mi amor. You know that right?”

James simply smiled and kissed Raoul. It was a quick kiss, almost a brush of his lips over Raoul's, but it was a promise. A promise to never leave his side. To never leave him alone again.

“I know, Raoul. It's a crazy man who would marry a genius after all...” And this time was Raoul the one who was smiling. They knew it was time to move. It was time to end a terrible game that lasted for too long.

“Before we meet her, mi amor, I have to do something... alone.”

James and Raoul slowly walked the stairs that were going to lead them to M, and James didn't ask what Raoul had to do so important to delete the moment he was going to face M for the first time after so many years.

***

M was working on saving all the contacts only she had the clearance to know about. Mallory was doing his best to try to protect all the agents on the field without any protection anymore. He was a soldier himself, and he knew how to save and back up soldiers when it looked like there was no hope anymore. But it was a job that usually requested a whole team, possibly of more than ten people, and he was alone and without time. It was a lost bet since the beginning. Mallory knew he was going to lose many good men and women that night, and he was going to blame himself for that.

Tanner was doing everything in his power to help both of them, but without computers and Q it was even harder to connect with all the people they needed to alert and save. It was like running against time itself while fighting an invisible enemy. For the first time since he began to work for MI6 Tanner knew they weren't going to win this war.

Moneypenny was in a small office, surrounded by documents and photos and and material that needed to be destroyed before it ended up in the enemy's hands. She was so focused that she didn't even realize that someone had entered the small office and locked the door.

“Eve Moneypenny, the secretary who wanted to be an Agent.”

Eve startled and looked up from the mountain of papers she was hiding behind. The good looking man who was in front of her had something that screamed danger, and she didn't have her gun.

“Who... who are you? And what are you doing here?”

Raoul was smirking, he could almost smell her fear, like a predator was able to smell its prey. It was funny to see how she was trying to hide her uneasiness. She was untrained, a child used to hiding in the HQ, safe and never a target, and that made Raoul furious. She shouldn't have been allowed on the field with a powerful rifle in her hands. She had touched James, and she was going to pay for that.

“Raoul Silva, Miss Moneypenny.” Raoul waited for a few moments, giving her time to connect the dots and understand who she was talking to.

Raoul saw the precise moment Eve understood. He read it in her eyes when they went wide and blood-shot.

The woman in front of him stuttered something, and Raoul was disgusted. There was nothing in Eve that would have made her a good agent. She was beautiful, yes, but she lacked every other quality, and she wasn't even trying to call for help or try to reach the gun that Raoul could see hidden under one of the desks. She was an incompetent, and didn't have any right to survive.

“You see Miss Moneypenny, you hurt someone who belongs to me. You were given a task that was too much for your possibilities, and you failed. You should have been honest enough to admit that the field was the right place for you. You were wrong, you made a wrong call, and you ended up shooting the only person who still means something for me in this world.”

“What are you talking...”

Raoul sighed, he really didn't have time to waste hearing to her pathetic excuses, he already knew what happened, how many ribs the bullet broke inside James, what organs had been compromised.

“I really don't care about what you have to say, and for sure I'm not here to give you answers...”

Raoul took his gun, and aimed to Eve's ribs.

“This won't even be a third of what he felt, but it will hurt... and you won't survive.”

Eve's body hit the ground with a loud thud, and the blood stained the paper that had fell all over her. She was dying, and even if Raoul couldn't stay and watch the life leave her body, he knew she was suffering and that was enough.

When Raoul came out from the small office locking the door behind himself, leaving Eve Moneypenny, one of the ramparts of MI6, to bleed to death alone and knowing that the most important thing in her life was crumbling all around her, he knew that that part of his revenge was over.

Once again James didn't ask, he didn't need to know and he didn't care. His mind was already focused on what was going to happen. The two men could already hear M's voice. She was still wearing her mask made of pure ice. Her voice was still calm, while ordering around chiefs of other organizations, and it was clear that she still held all the power.

James felt sorry for Mallory. If he was going to survive, to rebuild MI6 from the ruins, and take power after her was going to be hard if not even impossible.

“Are you ready mi amor?” James nodded, and the two men walked towards their destiny.

***

M didn't look up from her laptop when she heard the door of her office close. She was sure it was Mallory, with more bad news that she didn't want to hear, but when her eyes raised after a too long and unnerving silence, it was James that was looking at her.

“Bond, what are you doing here? You should be out looking for...”

“For me?”

M was shocked for a moment when Raoul Silva appeared in front of her.

“Mr. Silva this is a surprise...” She was confused and both men could see that.

“Actually, even if I love this moment of perfect family reunion, I really think we should go back to business, before the little friends you still got come running, after discovering the unfortunate demise, trying to save you...”

“And what moment are you actually talking about Mr Silva? Because I really am confused.” She looked at James and for the first time in years she didn't saw the agent she created, but the man he should have been.

“It could be the moment we finally stop playing M, it could be the moment you tell the truth at least for once.” James' voice was cold and detached, empty of all the warmth that it usually contained. It was like James' passion for his work was done, leaving its place to something different that it didn't belong to M or MI6.

“We could start with the real names of the people here.” M was looking at both men like they were crazy.

“M, let me introduce you to Tiago Rodriguez, former agent of MI6, former free man, former prisoner in a Chinese facility, and former husband you stole from me.” M was speechless and pale as a ghost, she honestly didn't think she would have seen the day Tiago was back from hell. And if the moment had been different, James would have enjoyed that little victory.

“Tiago, let me introduce you who stole ten years of our lives without a fucking good reason.” James' voice was shaking and only Raoul's presence by his side, and the gentle touch of his lips on his cheek calmed him enough not to jump on M and end her life. He knew M's life wasn't his to take, no matter everything he had been forced to live, because of her the right of revenge belonged to Raoul.

“You two...”

“We are together, M dearest, like it was supposed to be since the beginning. You didn't have any right to try to separate us, and in the end you not only failed, but you also are finally going to pay for everything you did.”

“I should have known you were going to find a way out. I should have killed you when I got the chance...”

James was livid. He couldn't believe he gave that woman so many years of his life and loyalty without realizing who she really was.

“I came out of hell, mommy, but not without a price. And believe me you almost managed to break my trust in James. If you hadn't been so blind and actually looked for him in Turkey, you probably would have been able to change how today is going to end. But I found him first, and I'm not going to lose him again. Not to you and not to anyone else.”

M raised from her chair like she was still in power, like she didn't just lost her best agent, and the power coming from owning the loyalty of a man like Bond.

“James, you can't throw away everything you fought for for a terrorist, for someone who killed innocent people who also were your friends.”

“You turned him into a terrorist M, you didn't give him any other possibility. You took everything from him, from us, and now you will give him back at least something. You will give him back the right to decide what to do with you, and I'll watch him doing that without regrets. I had a friend her, M, I had a lover and a husband, and a confident and a colleague, and you took him from me. I'll watch Raoul taking revenge for what happened to Tiago, and I won't interfere. I don't care for anything else.”

James stepped backward a couple of steps, leaving M and Raoul face to face. The woman was probably waiting for a gun or something else impersonal and cold, but Raoul had waited for that moment for so long, and it was so personal, that he wasn't going to waste the opportunity with an impersonal weapon.

He took a knife from his pocket. A well used one, the blade was shining in the light, and it's weight was a comfort in Raoul's hand. When M saw the blade she tried to move, she still was hoping that James was bluffing, that he didn't betray everything that he taught him for a man that had should only been and adventure, nothing more than an one night stand.

But James didn't move when Raoul cornered M behind her desk. He didn't move when the Spaniard grabbed her by her throat with one hand and raised the other one ready to strike.

James didn't move or blink when Raoul kissed M on her forehead and wished her goodbye before sinking the knife all the way into her heart.

James only moved when Raoul let her go, and together, side by side, they watched her body hit the floor. She didn't have time to think about anything but how beautiful and perfect and lethal those two were, and she had lost the possibility to own them both because of her blindness.

“It's over now.” Raoul could hear the alarms going wild. The whole system failure was complete. Nothing of what she had loved was going to survive her. Nothing of what she had spent her whole life building was still standing. M didn't leave anything behind. She had lost everything before the last breath left her body, and she had died knowing that.

***

Months Later

James was swimming lazily in the warm pool. He was in his element, he had always loved water, and to be free to have access to it at every time was a bonus to his life with Raoul.

The sky outside the glass ceiling of the hotel they actually called home was stormy, and James could see the first snowflakes begin to fall; he kept moving in the water thinking about other people running home trying to avoid the storm that was going to hit. For a moment his thoughts switched to Q. James wondered where the young genius had gone. He wondered if he had joined Mallory in the impossible task to rebuild MI6, but James knew better than actually ask, or even think about that for too long.

He heard the lifter doors open and smiled at Raoul. The man was still perfectly dressed, he didn't change into anything more comfortable after a whole day spent causing chaos and ruin for countries he didn't agree with and doing jobs for whoever had paid him enough.

“The water is perfect Raoul, you should come here and relax.”

Raoul smirked, he knew James well enough to say that his mate was in the mood to play tonight.

“But there are so many things to do mi amor. So many lives to ruin, so much chaos that only is waiting for someone to raise it.”

“Work, work, work, you only talk about work Raoul. You don't think about your husband anymore. What about his needs, aren't you going to take care of him?”

“I take good care of my husband and his needs. I think I remember I ravished him this morning, taking my pleasure in him, and giving him back so much pain and pleasure that he was actually begging me to stop because it was too much...”

James was actually grateful that he wasn't able to blush anymore, or he was pretty sure he'd been a deep shade of red thinking of what happened only a few hours earlier in their bedroom.

“That was hours ago, now he wants you back between his legs, fucking him as hard as you can.” Raoul was hard now under his perfectly tailored trousers.

“That sounds as a demanding husband that I got. But the question is: should I give him what he wishes for? Was he a good boy today, waiting for me while I was working?”

James was smirking while nodding; he needed Raoul now. He felt like a bloody teenager, always horny for his husband, but he wasn't going to complain about that. He was perfectly fine with things being like they finally were.

“You get undressed and in the water with me, and I'll show you how good he was all day. Waiting for you to come back to him.”

Raoul dropped his jacket and shirt without care. James knew that in the morning the whole bloody suits was going to be perfectly clean and in their dresser.

“You seems very sure of yourself mi amor. I really hope that you are going to be good for me James, because I don't have any intention to go easy on you tonight.”

Once he was totally naked, Raoul dived in the pool and swam towards his husband.

“You better. I want to feel you for days Raoul. I want to be in pain for you, and still beg you for more, and more. You have no idea how much I need you, Raoul.”

The Spaniard had been surprised in the beginning of how strong James' need for physical touch and attention had been, how strong he had been in his demands about their lovemaking.

But in the same time he had understood perfectly why James behaved like that, why he needed that connection so badly. For yearssex had been a duty and something that James had used to forget; now that he was free to be with the man he loved, sex was a way to feel Raoul close, a way to be complete again.

Raoul grabbed James and pushed him hard against the wall of the pool.

“Remember mi amor, you asked for this.”

James only had time to nod before Raoul grabbed him again, pushing his docile body against his own. Raoul's hands were on James' ass, roughly opening him for his pleasure. He only brushed against the little hole hidden there with his fingers for a second; James was still loose from their morning together.

He pushed hard against James letting his cock breaching and slipping inside his lover. James' moans were so lustful that he could have made a Saint sin ina moment.

“Tell me what you want mi amor.”

Raoul was buried inside James and was torturing the other man staying perfectly still inside him. He wanted James to voice his desires. He wanted him to give up his last restrains and really become the sensual creature he always saw in James.

“Harder please. I need you to move. I need to feel you claiming me.”

Raoul begun to move with a punishing rhythm. With every thrust he nailed James' prostate, making him squirm and moan while Raoul was growling. A beast claiming his mate, that was all that Raoul was while fucking James like that, and that was all that James needed and wanted.

“More, give me more.”

Raoul's thrusts became harder and harder. He could feel James' body giving up under him, letting him deeper inside, and he knew James wasn't going to be comfortable for days.

When he came deep inside his body Raoul let go an animalistic and possessive awl, and James found his own release simply feeling Raul's hot seed washing his insides and filling him.

Outside the storm was hitting the streets with full force, but inside a private hotel, into a warm pool that had been the silent witness of their ferocious lovemaking, two of the most feared and dangerous man in the world were perfectly happy one in the arms of the other, enjoying their closeness and the second chance that life gave them.

“We should go back to our room Raoul. I don't want the staff to find us here...”

Raoul had to smile at James; his possessiveness had strange ways to show. His hate for other people seeing them naked was only one of them.

“Don't worry mi amor. We have all the time in the world.”

Raoul kissed James with the same force he used to claim his body, and James lost himself in his lover's kiss and arms, forgetting everything about the rest of the world.