The two figures on the bed press against each other, and James just has to stand back and watch, because he doesn't know which one to touch first, can't move for fascination. Loves the way both of them fit so well together, all hard muscle and matching scars. Dark hair and dirty blond moving against each other. Watches as Alec drags his tongue over the flat plane of Alex's stomach, green eyes dilating until all there is is black. Alex's back arching, following the trail of Alec's warm tongue, gripping the bedstead hard enough to whiten his knuckles.
"Touch him." The words escape from James' lips, low and dark.
And Alec just looks at him, humour shining in those too old eyes. "What do you think I'm doing?"
"Not enough, dammit," Krycek gasps, and tugs him further down.
And James agrees it's not enough, he wants more. "Touch him."
Alex mirrors the sentiment with a hissed, "yes..."
But Alec doesn't touch him, sits back and watches the man on the bed. "Want me to touch you, Alex?"
"Yes, you bastard." Words ground out between clenched teeth, fingers reaching out and finding only air as Trevelyan smoothly rolls off the bed.
James smiles faintly. "You always were a tease, 006."
Alec just smirks and stalks towards Bond. "I never heard you complain before."
"Fuck you. Fuck you," Krycek swears viciously, and watches the two of them kiss, reaching down to stroke himself.
But Alec is there before he can touch himself, grabbing Krycek's wrist and bringing it up to his mouth, biting it. "Don't touch."
"Why not?" The sultry smile sits perfectly on Krycek's lips. "You didn't."
"Because I've got plans for this." The finger lightly running up his hard cock causes Alex to hiss. "James, get over here." Alec says, ignoring him.
James pushes himself away from where he is leaning against the door frame, and saunters over, face amused, eyes hot. He unties his bowtie, and idly undoes his cuffs as he walks towards the bed. Fingering his cummerbund as he takes another step. The blue and green strands running through the black reflecting in the light. Reflecting the light like it's the colour in their eyes, colours chosen for just that reason. Cummerbund snapped open now and dropped next to the matching band from Alec's tuxedo, James' smile widening as it reveals what is underneath. He slowly undoes his belt, pulling it from around his waist. "Here, maybe this will help." Soft, worn leather, so thin it looks as though it might snap at any moment. Alec looks at him as the belt is held out, and James can read a million words in those eyes, knows exactly what they are saying. And smiles.
"Leather? Under a tuxedo, 007?" Eyebrow raised like it's the fashion faux pas of the millennium. And maybe it is, but James doesn't care. Because this is the leather that started it all, the leather that Alec bound him with when they first fucked. And James wears it always, because even if Alec's not there, even if he can't have him then it's a piece of Alec next to his skin. The leather smelling like Alec, tasting like Alec, and James can't help but to crave more.
And Alec knows, knows exactly why James wears this, exactly why he needs to. He reaches out, supple leather sliding through his fingers as he takes the belt from him, just barely letting their fingers touch. "What do you think, Alex? Do you need this?" Alec asks the questions as he smoothly gets on the bed, straddling Krycek's chest.
Alex shrugs, watching the leather silently.
James lifts one eyebrow and looks at Alex. "He doesn't seem terribly impressed."
"Neither were you," Alec points out. "The first time." He trails the belt across Krycek's chest, letting it slide over his nipples.
Looking at his lover, James leans down and sweeps his tongue along Alec's shoulder. "Maybe he just needs a little more incentive."
"Is that it, Alex?" Alec learns down, hot breath ghosting over Krycek's skin. "Do you need more incentive?"
Coolly calculating eyes slant up at him. "Persuade me."
"'Persuade' him?" Alec tilts his head back to rest unerringly on James' chest. "Remind me, how did I persuade you?"
"If I recall correctly, you got me blind drunk and fucked me into a coma. When I woke up I was, ah, tied to the rungs of the oil rig."
Alec can't help but smile at the memory. "Well, unless that's an oil rig you've got in your trousers, I think that plan's out."
"Well, in that case, you'll just have to wing it, 006." James folds his arms and steps back, his quirked smile matched by his eyebrow. "After all, a good agent is always ready to improvise."
"Do you Brits ever get to the fucking, or do you just talk until someone dies?"
"That's been known to work too." Suddenly the belt is looped around Krycek's neck. Alec leans close, and whispers harshly, "How about a little dance with death, Aleksandr?" He gives the name the Russian intonation, and Krycek swallows.
The belt tightens, but he merely keeps his gaze locked on Trevelyan's eyes, unflinching. Pushing down the fear running through him, Krycek licks his lips slowly. "I'll dance with anything, as long as I get to come at the end of it." The heavy musk in the room deepens at his words, but Alec merely laughs.
"Oh, I like this one, James. Shall we keep him?"
"Let's see how he performs first." James strips his shirt off and lets it fall to the ground. "I make it a rule to always sample the merchandise before buying." He leans over Alec's back, letting his hands slide from wide shoulders forwards down his chest to the fly of Alec's tuxedo. He cups the hard meat there firmly, and bites lightly at Alec's neck. "He'll be no good to anyone if that belt gets any tighter," James observes mildly, and Alec grins ferociously.
"He'll learn to like it. Just like you did."
And James' cock jumps at the surety in Alec's voice. Like it, that was one way of putting it. Needing it, craving it, though, they were closer. Because fucking Alec is like fucking death. It's one hell of a ride, but you know that sooner or later it's going to kill you.
"I think we're boring our young friend, James. Suck him." Alec's cool order interrupts; without any thought at all he is kneeling between Krycek's thighs, his lips brushing hard cock eagerly.
"Slowly." Alec's hand winds in his hair, and he is dragged back, only the tip of his tongue touching.
Alex's breath shudders. Trevelyan loosens the belt, threads it through his hands, then takes a doubled length of it. And strikes. Hard. James' eyes close at the familiar pain across his arse, and moans, stretching against the pain in his scalp to reach the cock in front of him. The next crack doesn't touch him, and he feels the involuntary jerk as Krycek flinches. It brings the cock within tasting distance, and he laps at the head, letting his tongue enjoy the unfamiliar curves and ridges. Alec lets him suckle until Krycek moans gutturally, then pulls him back just an inch. No more. He can smell it, taste it.
"You should see him at this moment, James?" Alec's voice is smooth. "He's shaking, although you can barely see it. He needs you, James. Needs your mouth on him."
James opens his mouth, trying to reach against the grip in his hair. "Please."
Another crack, and Krycek arches upwards, perhaps understanding now the nature of his reward for responding to pain. His cock slides deep into James' mouth, and both men groan with pleasure, James humming around the slippery shaft, but he cannot hold the pose, and slips away again.
"More—" Distantly James hears Alex's plea, and smiles. He knows this place. Where you neither know nor care which you ask for, pleasure or pain. Because they are the same thing.
"What do you think, James?" The words conversational in their tone. "Should we give him more?"
James mews plaintively. He doesn't care. He wants that thick cock back. Wants to be filled. If not by Alec, then with Alec watching is almost as good.
"I asked a question, 007." Even the snap in Trevelyan's voice is smooth, and James finds himself dragged away, a sharp tug forcing his head up, forcing him to meet Alec's eyes.
"Alec, please..."
"Was that a yes, James?"
"Yes." Word coming with ease, anything to get him back to the flesh he craves. Anything to please Alec.
James raises his eyes, reaches a pleading hand towards his lover.
Alec smiles. Takes 007's hand and presses a kiss into its palm, then whips the belt down across it, leaving an inch wide stripe. "Better?" he asks sweetly, and runs his tongue over the welt, his eyes on Krycek's. "Do you want this?" He holds out James' hand to Krycek.
Alex hesitates, then smoothly sits up and touches his lips to the mark on James' palm, his eyes locked with Alec's. "Yes."
"Turn over."
Disappointment flickers in Krycek's eyes, but he obeys.
"Nothing so obvious, child," Alec murmurs, and runs a hand possessively down the clean lines of Krycek's back. "James, mark him."
Reaching out for the belt in Alec's hand, James runs it through his fingers, feeling the smoothness of the leather rub against the warm welt on his palm. He carefully passes the leather over Krycek's back, watching as the younger man tries, and fails, to stop from moving into the delicate brush of the belt. Fingers follow the belt's path, mapping Alex's skin as he's done so many times with Alec. Mapping the skin and wondering where each of the scars came from. Wondering if this man has really had as hard a life as his body would suggest when a hand reaches out, fingers gently brushing through his hair. "You're getting distracted, James."
He lets the belt be, and lowers his mouth between Alex's shoulder blades, and sucks hard. He lifts his head and smiles at the mark he's left, almost impossible to reach, and bites down, hard enough that he can taste blood. And he knows Alex will feel it with every shirt he wears, every swing of his arms, every breath he takes until it heals, knows it with the certainty of one who has been through it. Sitting back, he smiles crookedly at Alec.
Alec returns the smile as his fingers leans down and press carefully on the bite, drawing a hiss from Alex's throat. "Do you feel it, Alex? Everyone else has left their mark on your body, and now ours is alongside them." He scrapes his finger nails through the neat toothmarks, widening the tears until blood pools in the hollow of his spine.
Alex endures it without a word, face turned away from them both. Trevelyan smiles. "It's not about the physical, is it?" He runs fingers over the scars, tracing them as James did, scant minutes before. Tattooing blood in a parody of henna'd lines, curving and interweaving until the blood congeals and dries under his touch. "It's not even about the blood, is it?" he whispers, each word dropping like fallen icicles through Krycek's veneer. "Who are you? Where are you, Aleksandr Nicholaevitch Krycek?" He smiles at the momentary stillness in the body beneath his hands. "I know your name. I know more than you can guess." He leans closer, speaks softer, so that the rumble of his voice is more felt than heard. "But I want you. Pure, unadulterated, uninhibited, unhindered you."
James groans deeply. "I remember you," he says softly, and Alec smiles.
"I bloody well hope so, after all the trouble I took getting there." He breaks the spell, and only his hand on Krycek's back holds him down. "Stay there," he orders softly, and shifts to sit on the edge of the bed. James reaches a concerned hand to brush his shoulder, and Alec looks back reassuringly. "Get rid of those trousers, Bond," he orders casually. "You look ridiculous."
"I'd've said hot." James says mildly as he stands to obey. "Or possibly turned on beyond human bearing."
"Large as life and twice as horny," Krycek offers, head lifting off the pillow, his eyes drifting down the muscled chest to rest on James' cock.
Bond chuckles, and after a moment, Alec's hand slaps Krycek's back, and he says, a grin in his voice, "Pretty damn accurate for a newbie."
"I've been used too much to warrant that term." And Alex can't keep the bitterness out of his voice.
But all Alec does is lean down, lips almost brushing Krycek's ear. "But you've never been used by us."
Krycek shudders. The slap transmuting the dull ache of the bite into fresh sharp pain. For a moment he is left alone on the bed, face down, only the rustle of clothing to distract him from the welling blood. "As you say," he manages finally, and Alec frowns.
"Forget that. It isn't here. It isn't now. And if you're thinking about anything other than the here and now, I'm doing something wrong." He pushes Krycek onto his back, careless of the fine cotton sheets irreparably staining with his blood. "Don't make this about anything but pleasure."
"And pain," James observes, and settles, naked, on Krycek's other side.
"One in the same, 007. You should know that."
James smiles at Alec's soft tone, voice washing over him, filling the gaps he'd never realised he'd had. But then he'd been called into M's office and introduced to the latest of MI6's agents to be given 00 status, and dirty blond hair and a cocky smile had insinuated themselves into his life more surely than anything ever had. "But not everyone knows that, Alec." He hadn't, not until Alec's fingers had expertly wrung everything out of him, and then demanded more. Not until Alec had held him down, filled him, taken him. Not until Alec had soothed him, caressed him, completed him. "Some people just have to be shown what it can be like."
"As you say," Alec says, transforming Krycek's earlier words to something lighter, to something less damaging, more easily coped with in a muted hotel room. A room with not enough light to reveal all their secrets, yet without enough darkness to hide them completely. Because the past has no place here, no place among the hard kisses and questing fingers. Whatever they've done in the harsh light of day can be forgotten this night, the atrocities they seen, the things they've done for government and country can be left in the shadows. Morning will come soon enough for all of them, shedding light on too many secrets, but until then...
"Kiss him, Alec." Because he wants Alex to feel it, to feel what he does every time Alec looks at him.
And Alec leans in, hovers above Alex's lips. "You can finish his cock, James," and then he seizes Alex's mouth.
James smiles at the free rein he's just been given, and reaches out.
"Ah! Mouth or hands. Choose." Alec is looking at him, lips wet, swollen slightly.
But it's an easy choice, because the taste of Alex is still with him and he wants more. He watches the two of them for a long moment, trying to calm himself, and failing as the soft sounds of lips and tongues moving on each other snatches at his self control, knowing what Krycek is feeling. Knowing the air of possession Alec exudes when he's with you. Knowing that you are the most precious thing in the world as long as Alec is there with you. Leaning down, he sweeps his tongue over the head of Alex's cock, revelling in the slight leap it gives at his touch. Any sound Krycek makes is hidden in Trevelyan's mouth, and he dips in again, lapping delicately at the semen already leaking, savouring it like a fine wine.
"You taste so good, Alex," he murmurs. "A very good year." Tongue moving more boldly, wanting more. Tracing the vein on the underside of Alec's cock, he gently scrapes his teeth up the shaft. He can feel the flesh pulsing under his touch and he needs more, craves more. And Alex arches up, instinctively seeking out the heat that surrounds him. James' hand reaches out to hold Alex down, only to find Alec's already there. He lets his fingers run over the broad hand, scratching lightly at the fair hairs on its back. Lacing their fingers together as they press down on Alex's stomach, James rubs his thumb along Alec's hand, feeling the calluses that are there, their roughness contrasting with the surprising smoothness of the rest of Alec's hand. He licks his lips, moistening them, and presses a closed mouth kiss to Krycek's flared glans.
Krycek shifts under their joined hands, and then stills.
In the silence, James licks lightly, then sucks in just the head. Krycek seems to almost vibrate with the effort of lying still, and James rewards him, swirling his tongue around, sucking gently.
Alec's free hand combs through Alex's bush, and slowly wraps around his shaft. He squeezes, then lets go, and runs his index finger around the point where mouth and cock connect. "Can you feel him, Alex? Sucking you, wanting you." Trevelyan's lips have left Alex's body, moving to murmur gently, words as much for James as they are for Alex. "He's talented isn't he." It's a statement instead of a question, because Alec knows, has had James' lips wrapped around him more times than either of them can count.
Alex nods, then drops his head back in to the pillows with a gaps. Blunt fingernails scrape down the tight skin of his erection, and he can't decide if it hurts or if he wants more. "please..."
"Take him a little deeper." Alec half smiles. "Don't go too far. I want to watch him. See your saliva on him, your lips stretched wide around him." He smiles fully, watching, fascinated. Does James always look like this? Or is it only for him that he focuses so hard that his expression becomes entranced. Needing to touch, Alec lightly traces James's lips before sliding a fingers into James's mouth alongside Krycek's cock.
James's tongue runs over both intruders, adjusting to Alec's finger without pause. Swirling his tongue around the tip of Alec's finger, James turns his attentions back to Alex's cock, barely noticing when the Alec leaves his mouth, instead letting Alex sink further inside.
Absently stroking himself as he watches James move slowly up and down, a dark glint reflects in Alec's eyes. Squeezing his cock, he moves his hand to rest on the back of James' head. "James, open yourself." Pressing down lightly, he guides James' head down, watching as his lover swallows Krycek's cock to its base. Untangling his other hand from James's, he gently wraps his fingers around James' neck, feeling the bulge of Alex's cock in James' throat. Tightening his grip, Alec closes his eyes as twin beats drum against his hand, the beat of James's heart in direct contrast to the pulsing of Alex's cock that he can feel through James' skin.
And James can feel it too. Alex's cock filling his throat, and Alec's fingers around him, marking him, branding him in a way that he knows will be there for eternity.
Alec holds them like that for long seconds, half a minute, more than a minute, until James' back arches with the need for air and Alec loosens his grip, allowing James to lift his head and breathe.
And then, holding Alec's gaze, he sinks back down, silently giving him permission for everything he wants to do.
"Oh yeah, you know that you're mine, Bond." Words murmured, too low for Krycek to hear.
And James doesn't deny it, couldn't deny it. Knows his soul belonged to Alec the moment their eyes had met.
It is almost a surprise when Alex cries out, and comes, watching the interplay between these two men, more dangerous than he ever knew men could be.
Alec's mouth sets with displeasure. "James," he says coldly, and his lover backs away, leaving Krycek panting helplessly on the bed, cock still pulsing the last moments of his orgasm
"Did I tell you to make him come?" Question soft, yet still dark.
"No." James replies steadily. "But it's hardly my fault if you're so hot you make the boy go off like a rocket."
Alec's eyes crinkle, and he switches his gaze to Krycek. "Well, boy?"
But Alex can't answer, is too busy trying to get his body to do anything, anything but lie there.
"I think we killed him," James remarks softly.
"Oh no, I'm sure Alex can take much more than that, can't you, Alex." The gleam in Trevelyan's eye isn't as dark, but still as dangerous.
That tone sends shivers down his spine, and James is torn between feeling sorry for Alex and wanting to take his place, wanting to feel that heated gaze back on him.
"What do you think, James? Shall we show him just how much he can take?" Fingers reach out as the questions are asked, forcing James's head up, forcing his eyes to meet Alec's.
James smiles, his eyes as dark and as heated. Leaning forward he captures Alec's lips with his own, bruising kiss pressing down as both mouths are plundered. "Yes." Confirmation given as soon as the kiss is broken.
Alec doesn't even pause as he turns his attention back to the figure lying between them. "We're going to see just how good a cocksucker you are, Alex."
Brusque hands turn him over, the two men so in tune there is no need for words. With a glance, James moves up the bed to Krycek's shoulders, and tugs him up. He struggles until he gets his knees under him, and James slides in front of him. He stares at the thick cock in front of him, and shivers as cold hands grip his ass, part his cheeks, and something wet, rough, Alec's tongue? runs firmly over his hole.
"Suck." Bond's voice is friendly, but when he does not immediately respond, his jaw is gripped, knowing fingers pushing painfully into pressure points until he opens up.
The pain drags his attention back from his asshole, but only briefly. Strong fingers are working there too, rubbing, pushing inside him, at first just nudging gently, then a hard thrust of a finger, of a tongue. He moans, the sound abruptly muffled as James forces his head down, and down. He swallows, and allows himself a smirk at the sharp intake of breath above him. Because Alex has long learned to suppress his gag reflex and continues to swallow, only stopping when James' balls slap against his chin. His hips shift restlessly, wanting more than the random touches that are all Alec is offering.
"Hold still," Alec orders, and he spares a thought that the guy is way too fond of having his own way in bed, but rough nails scrape down his back, re-opening the earlier wound, and he loses his train of thought completely.
Distantly he hears, "Lube?"
"I thought you were bringing it." James says plaintively, and swings his hips back, and then forward again.
"I brought it last time, dammit." Trevelyan growls. "Never mind." He reaches across to the floor, and the abandoned glass of martini.
"Did you know," he dips his fingers into the almost clear drink, and swirls them thoughtfully, "That the mucous membranes are thin enough in a man's rectum to get him drunk, if you put alcohol in there?"
"Just a man's?" Bond asks him quizzically.
"Possibly also a woman's—- really, I could do with a hand here, 007."
James reaches down, one hand on Alex's head ensuring he cannot move, cannot breathe. Bond pulls on one ass cheek, as Trevelyan pulls on the other, and carefully tilts the drink. "But does it work as lubricant? Seems a trifle sticky, if you ask me."
"We'll find out in a moment. Besides, get him pissed enough, and he'll be so relaxed, you won't need a lubricant. Oh, and if he bites, try to keep your howls down to a dull roar," Alec replies cheerfully.
"Now wait a mo—" but Alec slams forward, and Krycek does scream, his mouth working uncontrollably, control over gag reflex gone. "Don't you dare puke, brat," Bond pulls out, holding him by the scruff of his neck. Krycek pants desperately in time with the short hard thrusts into his backside.
"You were right, James," Alec says as he moves sleek and powerful against Alex. "Sticky." He thrusts in hard and holds, "Ahhh. But still a damn good fuck."
"oh god, oh god." The mantra falls from Krycek's lips as his body shakes.
"Nope," answers James. "Just Alec." He pauses. "And if you've enough breath to be talking, you've enough breath to be sucking." He rubs his dickhead over Krycek's lips, not letting it inside, even though Alex has opened his mouth, is gusting hot gasps over it.
Alex whimpers, drops his head and seizes James' cock in his teeth, them pushes forward, until his nose is deep in warm, musky hair. It feels almost like a single cock, riding him from stem to stern as the two men synchronise their strokes, Bond slides in as Trevelyan slides out, pacing themselves against each other, their breathing harsh in the quiet, punctuated only by the slap of their bodies as they drive back and forth, the soft feel of expensive wool the only indication that Alec hasn't even deigned to remove his trousers.
"Alec." The name ghosts from James' lips as Krycek's mouth works him, and Alex feels one of Trevelyan's hands leave his hips. A scant second later, joined hands fall onto his back, digging into flesh as they tighten their hold on each other. The fingers still holding his hip press harder, and Alex knows there'll be bruises there tomorrow.
Sharp, rapid thrusts drive into him, pushing him further onto James' cock.
Thrusting, jabbing, until... "Fuck!"
Pulling himself out of Alex, Trevelyan rolls off the bed. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" The words drop from his lips until he reaches the ringing telephone on the dresser. "What?!"
James is silent, watching as the annoyance on his lover's face melts into quiet contrition.
"No, ma'am, I didn't expect it to be you."
His shoulder sagging, James sighs. This can't be good.
"Yes, ma'am, he's with me." Quick grin in James' direction telling him that M knows exactly why he's with Trevelyan. "Understood, we'll be there as soon as we can." Erection still painfully full as the phone is dropped back onto the dresser, Alec turns to James. "It seems our country needs us, 007." He walks back to the bed, where James is holding Alex still. He smiles, "Best hurry it along there," and he mounts Alex with no other warning. He thrusts, once, twice, and groans. Liquid heat flooding into Alex as Trevelyan comes, shuddering behind him, hips still moving involuntarily.
"Dear me." Bond is grinning, "Rather precipitate of you, Alec old man."
"Not at all, 007." And Alec is matching the grin, because this is a game they've played many times before. "Just treating this as expeditiously as it needs to be." He pulls out and starts dressing, tuxedo trousers fastened before he's even left the bed. "Come on, James. You don't want M to have more footage for the Bond Sex tape this year. After all, Moneypenny almost bankrupted herself last time, god only knows what she'll do if a new version hits the agency."
"Sorry, Aleksandr," James sounds almost like he means it as he moves faster and harder. "Ahhh."
Alex tastes metallic bitterness, and then, abruptly, his mouth is as empty as his asshole, and he collapses onto the bed as Bond moves away.
"There's no need to worry about moving, Alex," Trevelyan reassures him. "The room is paid up for until tomorrow, so you may as well make use of it."
The two agents finish dressing, quickly, the practice of years leaving them pristine in minutes. They knot bowties, slip on holsters and guns and jackets, and finally, pause by the door, perfectly matched in both dress and movement.
Krycek is dripping, sweat, cum, blood. He is sprawled out, wrung out, utterly motionless.
"Don't be a stranger," Bond calls cheerfully, and they are gone.
Alex watches the door for nearly two hours before he moves.
M eyes the two agents standing in her office, impeccably dressed in matching tuxedoes and both wearing innocent smiles that wouldn't look out of place on cherubs, and only just stops herself from shaking her head. She should have known that these two men would be the death of her. She's had more grey hairs since 006 and 007 decided to partner themselves together then she'd ever had before.
And it's not as if she doesn't know exactly what they've been doing. The way Moneypenny flushed bright red when she was told to connect M to Trevelyan's phone had been proof enough that her agents had been doing something that definitely wasn't for Queen and country.
But she allows it, because she also knows that this partnership has saved the life of at least one of the two men before her. When Alec Trevelyan had joined MI6 he'd been an angry young man, ready to take on the world instead of trying to save. Even the agency psychiatrists had had doubts about his suitability for the job. But M had seen that there was more to Trevelyan than the harsh and scathing veneer he showed the world. And when she'd disregarded all the other candidates for the newly opened 00 position in order to put forward Trevelyan, the rest of the directors had been appalled. She still remembered what L had said when she'd told them of her choice.
//"That madman is enough to worry about without giving him a licence to bloody kill as well!"//
But M had insisted. It was her department and she was willing to take the risk. So they'd let her. But not without the admonishment that if Trevelyan failed to live up to her expectations then he wouldn't be the only one 'retiring' from the agency.
And her gambit had paid off. She'd known it was the right choice as soon as James Bond had walked into her office and seen the newly instated 006 standing there. Eyes had met and hands had reached out and a partnership that would be bonded in fire took its first steps forward.
And as James had tempered Trevelyan's abrasive anger into a smoother sarcastic cynicism, Alec had soothed Bond's impulsive rashness. Where Bond had previously looked to the most dangerous of partners in order to satisfy his reckless impulses, he now turned to Trevelyan, still as dangerous but ultimately a much wiser choice of adversary.
They complimented each other perfectly. As ideally matched in their private lives as they were in their agency ones. Even those who had scoffed at M's decision to assign Trevelyan 00 status had to admit 006 and 007 were unstoppable together. No one who went against them stood a chance. And they'd been on a well deserved stand-down after their mission in Dubai. But M knew that Bond and Trevelyan would want this mission. Especially since they were the ones who had originally destroyed the Arkangel chemical weapons facility in Russia a little over 6 months ago, a mission that Trevelyan had barely escaped from with his life. And besides, M knew she needed her best men for this. And, no matter what they got up to in their personal lives, and as much as some people might like to deny it, she knew Bond and Trevelyan were the best agents MI6 had to offer... even as she banked down on the small 'God help us all' that welled up in her.
Turning to her desk, M picked up the folder marked 'Classified' and handed it to Bond. "That's your next assignment, gentlemen. You leave in 3 hours."
Bond looked down at the folder as they walked out of the office, flicking his eyes over the reports.
"Anything interesting, James?"
"It appears our friend General Ourumov is back in the business." Bond can't help but smile at the soft growl that emanates from Alec's throat, but he knows how the other man feels. James still shudders when he thinks of the Arkangel mission, seeing Alec on his knees with Ourumov's gun at his temple, finger lightly caressing Alec's cheek and James counting down the long seconds before the bomb exploded, distracting everyone enough for Alec to manage to scramble away. If nothing else comes out of this mission, James intends to keep the promise he made when Ourumov first dared to touch Alec. No matter what else, the General won't escape from this alive.
"Anything else?" Alec's soft tone bringing James out of his thoughts of revenge.
"No, that's it. Bad guy. Stop from taking over the world. And something about a satellite coding programme called GoldenEye. Just the usual, Alec. Just the usual."
End
Author's note: We know the timeline for GoldenEye gets a little fudged at the end of this. Instead of Bond and Trevelyan destroying the Arkangel facility 6 years before the actual GoldenEye mission, it's now about six months. But, hell, since we've got Alec surviving and as a good guy, we figure the fudging is the least of our sins against continuity {eg}
Bitter Kiss
by Temaris and Claire
...See reflection on the water, more than darkness in the depths. See him surface in every shadow, on the wind I feel his breath...
