Dance With The Devil - Chapter Two
Chapter Two - Closer
James was back in London for a while now. He have had some minor jobs in Syria and Italy but that wasn't really something any other agent could handle. Not a job for a double 0. Truth was M just wanted to give him anything to occupy his unresting persona with while waiting for Raoul Silvas next move.
It had been quiet around Silva ever since the island incident. Of course noone ever got to know what happened on that island. Bond might have earn a curious look or two when he was found tied to a chair, shirt open, overall looking somewhat ravished. Luckily it wasn't something he couldnt waive off as a story about the typical struggle with the enemy. Maybe the others just didn't want to investigate the issue any further. James was just glad M didn't read every single mission report unless it was neccesary to reconstruct a mission gone-wrong. In this case she could very well find all the informations needed in his report. Needless to say that James had omit the lewd details.
While it had been suspiciously quiet around Silva the MI6 was now fully aware of his agenda to assault M. It was clear to everyone that the ex-agent was working on his next move. He just did a better job of being untrackable then anyone at M16 liked. Bond currently spend most of his days sitting at a table at M16, unsuccessfully trying to help find any useful information out of the little new data that was gathered. This wasn't exactly what he had signed in for. Bloody desk work. Eve's presence around here was the only thing that lightened his mood.
In order to learn more about the man, James was suppost to deal with, he was allowed access to several old files regarding Raouls Silva. In hope for a possible approach James dug deep into the MI6 files. There he found some things that explained why M was so reticent on the whole topic. Silvas real name was Tiago Rodriguez. He had worked for MI6 for a long time. As James already knew from the man himself he was stationed at Hong Kong from '86 to '97. The files said Silva had lastly been resposible for the handover to the chinese. A double 0 field agent with leading qualities.
One night, when the main wing of MI6 was as quiet as it possibly ever got in here, James grabbed two mugs of earl grey. The light in Ms office was still on. He pardoned himself inside.
“Good evening 007. Still at you desk at such a late hour. I suspect you waited all day to get your chance to sneak up to me. Is there anything i can help you with.” James took a seat. “It is about Tiago Rodriguez.” Seeing Ms face fall into a frown Jamesr tried again. “Raoul Silva.” “I knew you would come up to me with this anytime soon. I reckon you read all the files. What is it you have a question about?” “Its about what happened closely before Hong Kong handover.” M looked him staight into the eyes but something about her seemed weary.
She then told him about how Silva was in charge of Hong Kong, how he started minding his own buisness and hacked the chineses. How by the time the handover came up they wanted him so M had handed him over. “I got six agents in return and a pieceful transition.” At last MI6 had thought him dead and his name got engraved into the memorial walls at former MI6s headquaters. “Blown away with my own name by the explosion i guess?” James kept a blank face all through this. M gave a sour, curt nod.
They looked at each other for a moment. Suddenly James felt very tired. “Is there anything else you need to tell me on this topic?” “No.” M replied. James got up and turned to leave.
He was already at the door when M spoke again. “Be careful James. He knows MI6. Hes one of us.” His hand reached for the doorhandle “James? Have a good night.” When he looked back her features were soft. A rare sight. “Thanks for telling me all this ma'am.” He wished her a good night in return and went out.
This was how James Bond was to stay put in London more often then it pleased him. With this danger lurking somewhere close to home and Bond being the responsible agent involved in the case, there where only so many occasions on when he was allowed to leave London for what he called pastime missions.
So there he was one night, sitting in one of Londons clubs, just as many other nights before this. Driven my insomnia and boredom. Scanning the room for someone to kill his time with.
From his position in the lounge his eyes trailed over the overfilled dancefloor beneath. Bodies moved and rocked against each other in rythm with the too loud music.
After a while he finaly saw something that caughed his interest. There she was, planium blonde hair obvious in the dark, petite face and, as far as James could tell from up here, rich brown eyes. It thrilled an urge in him that he wasn't excatly sure where it came from. The pleasure of meeting a pretty stranger was one thing. Of course. But he had the feeling at there was another appeal that drew him toward her. Provocatrix. That's what she was. Thinking back to the events of the early past it occured to him that he haven't had a blond lover for a while. He sure was into dark haired woman lately. He had to smile for a moment, thinking back on his encounters with Eve. James shock his head. Way to spoil the mood by thinking on your now officialy declared just-friends co-worker.
He got up and moved onto the dancefloor.
He was in the middle of it. Carefully shoving people aside and squeezing through the masses, always aiming toward her direction when suddenly there was a body pressing close him from behind. "I see you rediscovered you liking in blond woman, Mr. Bond. How do you like her. Did I choose her well? Didn't hit on something like that for a while now, did you? Why the sudden change of heart." James breath caught.
That was Raoul Silvas thick, low voice rumbling into his ear. James hadn't mind his surroundings. Blame the amount of alcohol that run trough his veins. He tried to put a fast step forward to be able to turn around and face the invader but wasn't able to move boldly enough in the enclosed space of the dancefloor. "Ah now shush shush James." Steady iron hands curled around his upper arms, pulled his back closer to the broad body behind him. “Is there anything you are trying to get away from?” The rough voice laced with traces of a chesire-grin mumbled into his ear.
A hand sneaked around James arms and body, holding him in place. Another hand crept up to his chest, then his neck, cupping it just below the jawline and pulling his head backwards, onto Silvas shoulder. It left his throat exposed. James tried another struggle but found himself unable to move. “We left some things unfinished. I am dearly sorry for that. You know James, i believe that we should get to know each other better. Means I really do not want to leave a you with a wrong impression. Please learn that I never leave things unfinished.” Silva leaned forward to trace the soft flesh beneath James' ear with his teeth. James got a glimpse and the mans profile. The thrill from their first meeting was back with a pang.
He should fight the situation. Because this was now or never. The road this was going down quickly now wasn't the right one. His attempt of another stuggle did James little good when through several layers of fabric, he could feel how much Silva enjoyed this. James would have liked to be able to say that he didn't fancy this situation just as much. But who was he lying to. Certainly not himself. The monster in James awoke. If he couldn't get away, well, two could play this game. And this was a game James was very good at. A faint smile crept onto his face.
He tested a little move to adjust his lower body and ground back into Silvas hips. The first grind earned him a low chuckle. The second a sharp hiss. “Oh Mister Bond.” “Told you this wasn't my first time. You should get to know me better as well. Im not making false promises.” Another thrust. “It will be my pleasure James.” James soon managed to get another sharp intake of breath from Silva. Along with something that was a mixture of a low rumble and a mewl. The man was noisy in bed. Who would have thought.
It seemed to take Silva a few moments to adjust to Bonds unexpected enthusiasm. He surely hadn't seen this coming after James motionless display on the island. However when the man did come back to his senses the game was on. James remembered how the other man had said he wanted to see who ends up on top. Clearly Silva had the intention to be that one. The grip around James upper body possitively got tighter. Chest and back of the two men pressed against each other. Silvas tongue lapped violently at James neck while he ground forcefully into the space between James' cheeks, forcing his way back into control of this.
James wouldn't forgo his grounds one bit. He thrust back just as violent. One of his palms rested against Silvas thigh. He dug his nails in and raked them up Silvas leg. He had every intention to ruin the mans suit.
James was painfully hard by now. The friction of cloth in front of him and from behind not enough. Yet Silva showed no interest in touching Bonds crotch. Bloody bastard. James had to do something about it but sure as hell he wasn't going to beg. He got his chance when Silva threw his head back at a particularly leisure stroke. James craned his neck and bit down into Silvas. Hard. He almost thought Silva would come just there and then. Instead a triad of spanish curses greeted him.
Without further comment Silva reached down to grab the front of James pants. James felt his cheeks flush. Heat creeped up everywhere and his lower body started to tingle. He wouldn't last long. He had already been leaking precome and now he had Silvas damned skillful hands gripping him through the fabric.
Now that his arms weren't constricted anymore, James reached behind Silva head and pulled it forward. Granting himself easier access to the other mans neck, biting down on it some more.
“Do you come apart when i ride you like this. How much more can you stand before you get off. Will you imagine to come deep inside of me.” James voice was hoarse while he wispered into Silvas ear. The other mans hips twiched. Finaly Silvas hand found its way inside James pants. Gave him firm, slick strokes. It was too much. Bond came into his pants with a hitching moan. Came all over Silvas hand. That was all it took to push Silva over the edge. He bit down into James shoulder, muffling the delicious yelp that forced its way out of his throat while he laisurely kept grinding into James.
They stayed like this for a while, both coming down from their highs, breaths heavy. Someway along those moments Silva must have untangled himself from James. Next thing James noticed was a kiss that was pressed into the nape of his neck. When he finaly turned around Silva was gone. Bodies moved around him as if nothing ever happened and blocked his way.
James made his way back to the bar. Better get wasted before heading back to his hotel room alone. He was scowling at his Scotch when he raised the glass but couldn't help the smile before he gulped it down. Well, he successfully laid his blond tonight. Maybe he shouldn't deny the fun he had for now. He still could do that, starting tomorow.
___________________________________________________________________________________________
A/N: As you can see this story is partly about James and Raoul on the dance floor. I'm just fascinated by the idea of them dancing. The chapters are named after songs. Thought that would fit the story. I had Nine Inch Nails 'Closer' in mind here.
James was back in London for a while now. He have had some minor jobs in Syria and Italy but that wasn't really something any other agent could handle. Not a job for a double 0. Truth was M just wanted to give him anything to occupy his unresting persona with while waiting for Raoul Silvas next move.
It had been quiet around Silva ever since the island incident. Of course noone ever got to know what happened on that island. Bond might have earn a curious look or two when he was found tied to a chair, shirt open, overall looking somewhat ravished. Luckily it wasn't something he couldnt waive off as a story about the typical struggle with the enemy. Maybe the others just didn't want to investigate the issue any further. James was just glad M didn't read every single mission report unless it was neccesary to reconstruct a mission gone-wrong. In this case she could very well find all the informations needed in his report. Needless to say that James had omit the lewd details.
While it had been suspiciously quiet around Silva the MI6 was now fully aware of his agenda to assault M. It was clear to everyone that the ex-agent was working on his next move. He just did a better job of being untrackable then anyone at M16 liked. Bond currently spend most of his days sitting at a table at M16, unsuccessfully trying to help find any useful information out of the little new data that was gathered. This wasn't exactly what he had signed in for. Bloody desk work. Eve's presence around here was the only thing that lightened his mood.
In order to learn more about the man, James was suppost to deal with, he was allowed access to several old files regarding Raouls Silva. In hope for a possible approach James dug deep into the MI6 files. There he found some things that explained why M was so reticent on the whole topic. Silvas real name was Tiago Rodriguez. He had worked for MI6 for a long time. As James already knew from the man himself he was stationed at Hong Kong from '86 to '97. The files said Silva had lastly been resposible for the handover to the chinese. A double 0 field agent with leading qualities.
One night, when the main wing of MI6 was as quiet as it possibly ever got in here, James grabbed two mugs of earl grey. The light in Ms office was still on. He pardoned himself inside.
“Good evening 007. Still at you desk at such a late hour. I suspect you waited all day to get your chance to sneak up to me. Is there anything i can help you with.” James took a seat. “It is about Tiago Rodriguez.” Seeing Ms face fall into a frown Jamesr tried again. “Raoul Silva.” “I knew you would come up to me with this anytime soon. I reckon you read all the files. What is it you have a question about?” “Its about what happened closely before Hong Kong handover.” M looked him staight into the eyes but something about her seemed weary.
She then told him about how Silva was in charge of Hong Kong, how he started minding his own buisness and hacked the chineses. How by the time the handover came up they wanted him so M had handed him over. “I got six agents in return and a pieceful transition.” At last MI6 had thought him dead and his name got engraved into the memorial walls at former MI6s headquaters. “Blown away with my own name by the explosion i guess?” James kept a blank face all through this. M gave a sour, curt nod.
They looked at each other for a moment. Suddenly James felt very tired. “Is there anything else you need to tell me on this topic?” “No.” M replied. James got up and turned to leave.
He was already at the door when M spoke again. “Be careful James. He knows MI6. Hes one of us.” His hand reached for the doorhandle “James? Have a good night.” When he looked back her features were soft. A rare sight. “Thanks for telling me all this ma'am.” He wished her a good night in return and went out.
This was how James Bond was to stay put in London more often then it pleased him. With this danger lurking somewhere close to home and Bond being the responsible agent involved in the case, there where only so many occasions on when he was allowed to leave London for what he called pastime missions.
So there he was one night, sitting in one of Londons clubs, just as many other nights before this. Driven my insomnia and boredom. Scanning the room for someone to kill his time with.
From his position in the lounge his eyes trailed over the overfilled dancefloor beneath. Bodies moved and rocked against each other in rythm with the too loud music.
After a while he finaly saw something that caughed his interest. There she was, planium blonde hair obvious in the dark, petite face and, as far as James could tell from up here, rich brown eyes. It thrilled an urge in him that he wasn't excatly sure where it came from. The pleasure of meeting a pretty stranger was one thing. Of course. But he had the feeling at there was another appeal that drew him toward her. Provocatrix. That's what she was. Thinking back to the events of the early past it occured to him that he haven't had a blond lover for a while. He sure was into dark haired woman lately. He had to smile for a moment, thinking back on his encounters with Eve. James shock his head. Way to spoil the mood by thinking on your now officialy declared just-friends co-worker.
He got up and moved onto the dancefloor.
He was in the middle of it. Carefully shoving people aside and squeezing through the masses, always aiming toward her direction when suddenly there was a body pressing close him from behind. "I see you rediscovered you liking in blond woman, Mr. Bond. How do you like her. Did I choose her well? Didn't hit on something like that for a while now, did you? Why the sudden change of heart." James breath caught.
That was Raoul Silvas thick, low voice rumbling into his ear. James hadn't mind his surroundings. Blame the amount of alcohol that run trough his veins. He tried to put a fast step forward to be able to turn around and face the invader but wasn't able to move boldly enough in the enclosed space of the dancefloor. "Ah now shush shush James." Steady iron hands curled around his upper arms, pulled his back closer to the broad body behind him. “Is there anything you are trying to get away from?” The rough voice laced with traces of a chesire-grin mumbled into his ear.
A hand sneaked around James arms and body, holding him in place. Another hand crept up to his chest, then his neck, cupping it just below the jawline and pulling his head backwards, onto Silvas shoulder. It left his throat exposed. James tried another struggle but found himself unable to move. “We left some things unfinished. I am dearly sorry for that. You know James, i believe that we should get to know each other better. Means I really do not want to leave a you with a wrong impression. Please learn that I never leave things unfinished.” Silva leaned forward to trace the soft flesh beneath James' ear with his teeth. James got a glimpse and the mans profile. The thrill from their first meeting was back with a pang.
He should fight the situation. Because this was now or never. The road this was going down quickly now wasn't the right one. His attempt of another stuggle did James little good when through several layers of fabric, he could feel how much Silva enjoyed this. James would have liked to be able to say that he didn't fancy this situation just as much. But who was he lying to. Certainly not himself. The monster in James awoke. If he couldn't get away, well, two could play this game. And this was a game James was very good at. A faint smile crept onto his face.
He tested a little move to adjust his lower body and ground back into Silvas hips. The first grind earned him a low chuckle. The second a sharp hiss. “Oh Mister Bond.” “Told you this wasn't my first time. You should get to know me better as well. Im not making false promises.” Another thrust. “It will be my pleasure James.” James soon managed to get another sharp intake of breath from Silva. Along with something that was a mixture of a low rumble and a mewl. The man was noisy in bed. Who would have thought.
It seemed to take Silva a few moments to adjust to Bonds unexpected enthusiasm. He surely hadn't seen this coming after James motionless display on the island. However when the man did come back to his senses the game was on. James remembered how the other man had said he wanted to see who ends up on top. Clearly Silva had the intention to be that one. The grip around James upper body possitively got tighter. Chest and back of the two men pressed against each other. Silvas tongue lapped violently at James neck while he ground forcefully into the space between James' cheeks, forcing his way back into control of this.
James wouldn't forgo his grounds one bit. He thrust back just as violent. One of his palms rested against Silvas thigh. He dug his nails in and raked them up Silvas leg. He had every intention to ruin the mans suit.
James was painfully hard by now. The friction of cloth in front of him and from behind not enough. Yet Silva showed no interest in touching Bonds crotch. Bloody bastard. James had to do something about it but sure as hell he wasn't going to beg. He got his chance when Silva threw his head back at a particularly leisure stroke. James craned his neck and bit down into Silvas. Hard. He almost thought Silva would come just there and then. Instead a triad of spanish curses greeted him.
Without further comment Silva reached down to grab the front of James pants. James felt his cheeks flush. Heat creeped up everywhere and his lower body started to tingle. He wouldn't last long. He had already been leaking precome and now he had Silvas damned skillful hands gripping him through the fabric.
Now that his arms weren't constricted anymore, James reached behind Silva head and pulled it forward. Granting himself easier access to the other mans neck, biting down on it some more.
“Do you come apart when i ride you like this. How much more can you stand before you get off. Will you imagine to come deep inside of me.” James voice was hoarse while he wispered into Silvas ear. The other mans hips twiched. Finaly Silvas hand found its way inside James pants. Gave him firm, slick strokes. It was too much. Bond came into his pants with a hitching moan. Came all over Silvas hand. That was all it took to push Silva over the edge. He bit down into James shoulder, muffling the delicious yelp that forced its way out of his throat while he laisurely kept grinding into James.
They stayed like this for a while, both coming down from their highs, breaths heavy. Someway along those moments Silva must have untangled himself from James. Next thing James noticed was a kiss that was pressed into the nape of his neck. When he finaly turned around Silva was gone. Bodies moved around him as if nothing ever happened and blocked his way.
James made his way back to the bar. Better get wasted before heading back to his hotel room alone. He was scowling at his Scotch when he raised the glass but couldn't help the smile before he gulped it down. Well, he successfully laid his blond tonight. Maybe he shouldn't deny the fun he had for now. He still could do that, starting tomorow.
___________________________________________________________________________________________
A/N: As you can see this story is partly about James and Raoul on the dance floor. I'm just fascinated by the idea of them dancing. The chapters are named after songs. Thought that would fit the story. I had Nine Inch Nails 'Closer' in mind here.