Fandom: James Bond (Skyfall '12)
Characters/Parings: 00Silva aka Bond/Silva
Word Count: 1,026
Summary: Bond takes Silva somewhere, things get a little heated. Sequel to Bound, New Morning in New Household, and Finding Your Pace.
A/N: So fluffy you could make cotton candy out of it.
One week turns into a month, which turns into two. Between Bond’s frequent trips to other countries and the days where he is blissfully allowed to work in London, the two of them settle into something that looks like a life together. Silva’s flirting continues and while they haven’t gotten physical Bond knows that what they are doing boils down to dating. Whenever Bond comes back from where ever he has been Silva takes him to a café or a bookshop, something normal. And Bond starts to actually be excited to come home. It’s strange having something that he wants to come home to. Something that makes him fight harder on the field. Or course that means he pushes himself harder than normal. If he didn’t he has a feeling that Silva would judge him.
The car he is driving rumbles down the dirt road. This had been his idea. Both he and Silva had been cooped up inside the house yesterday. And he knows that Silva really doesn’t have much to do while he is gone. So he had told Silva that he was taking him out. But he wouldn’t say where. He wanted to surprise him. Next to him Silva has his arm leaning against the door in an almost bored manner. Bond can tell he is anything but. The man’s whole body is filled with tension. He doesn’t like surprises but damn it Bond wants to do it anyway. He feels comfortable near Silva, for the most part. He wants Silva to feel comfortable with him. After two months, he hopes that Silva doesn’t still think that he’s going to cart him into MI6. But he isn’t sure.
He brings the car to a stop and Silva looks up, “Oh James. I am surprised. Do you think that you can trust me here?”
Here of course being the private gun range that James frequents. The one that he goes to when he wants to train away from everyone. He knows the owner personally and he had been told that he could bring a friend. He opens the door and steps outside, “You have been cooped up too long. A little excitement will do you good.”
“But here James?”
Bond can almost feel his eyes roll to the back of his head, “Do shut up.”
Silva of course doesn’t and continues to talk his ear off until they reach a small shed. A man comes out and smiles at them. He and James talk a bit, and then he goes back into the shed and comes out with two bags and a stern look on his face. He mutters something again and then looks directly at Silva. Eventually James comes back and hands him his bag, “He said to be careful.”
“When am I not careful.”
James just tosses him his bag, “Come on then.”
Bond walks over to the shooting range and unzips the bag he had been given. He pulls out earmuffs and then his gun. He loads it and then turns the safety off. He watches Silva do the same and look at him, “What do you say we make this a little challenge?” Silva says.
Silva nods, “Winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser.”
Bond’s eyebrows raise but he cannot deny that it sounds appealing. It has been a long time since anyone in MI6 has been able to go toe to toe with him. To hell with his older age. He thinks it over for a moment but knows that he is easily swayed in this, “I do believe the words are, you are on?”
He knows that Silva is amused with him when he smirks. The man next to him pulls the ear mufflers over his ears and takes a stance. Bond copies him and then pulls the trigger. For a moment the field is in complete silence, other than the sounds of gunshots being loaded into the paper targets on the other side. When it’s done the two of them pull the paper targets to where they stand. Silently they examine them and Bond groans, he can see the smirk slowly take over Silva’s face, “If this was real combat I think I would have scored more fatal shots than you dear.”
James glares at him, “Best two out of three?”
He expects Silva to complain but he does not. Instead Silva smiles at him, “How can I say no to that?”
In the second round James wins pretty handily and he has to do his best not to puff up a bit with pride. As the third round starts he can feel the tension in the air. The two men set up their lines of sight and both begin round three. Somehow Bond knows that this round will change everything. When it is over the aforementioned tension is even thicker. The paper targets are pulled in and they stand there. For the most part they look equal. But, in the end there is a clear winner.
“So what do you want?”
“Is it not obvious?”
He crowds into him until and then Silva reaches down and pulls James’s lips to his own. His kiss is demanding and gives Bond no time to realize what is happening, only time to respond, only time to kiss back. He feels Silva’s hand tangle in his hair as he is dominated, as he is owned. He feels teeth and then Silva bites his lip. He curls his hands onto the back of the table and groans, ruts up into Silva. Silva pulls back and James is left there, wonton, wondering what happened. What he allowed to happen.
Silva reaches down and fixes James’ shirt, smoothing out the creases, “There. Now we go home.”
In that moment James tries to get his composure back. He nods still a bit shell-shocked, understands that this was going to happen eventually. Tries to compartmentalize it, finds he cannot. Understands that he cannot. In the end he just nods, “Yes. Let’s go home.”
If Silva locks their arms as they walk back to the car he says nothing of it.