Chapter Text
-o-
The year was 1876. A fortnight after their departure from England, the team travelling aboard the sailing vessel, HMS Skyfall, had finally arrived on the luscious shores of the Indian coast. They were a small team financed by a few of the great English universities and their goal was to do an in-depth taxonomic classification of some of the more prominent species living in the Jungles of central India. The team was led by a world-renowned biologist who was a woman both enjoying her fame and keeping her privacy by simply being refereed to as M.
Working under M were two students. One was another Biologist, Eve Moneypenny. Miss Moneypenny was M's teaching assistant back at the University where she was a professor of Biology. She was an invaluable addition to the team. The other was the young man who had been at the top of her class the term before despite the fact that he an engineering student reading communications. His name was Geoffrey Boothroyd. They’d dubed him ‘Q’ when he picked up the job of Quartermaster. He was the only one the other trust to handle the firearms without shooting anyone. They certainly didn’t trust Silva.
Raoul Silva led the team’s small security detachment. During their stop off in Spain, M had brought Silva and his men onboard. Apparently it was going to be incredibly dangerous in the jungle and M had decided they would need a little extra protection. Q couldn't have agreed more, if their camp got attacked by a pack of wolves or a tiger they would be dead before anyone could even run for help. However, Q didn’t understand why they hadn’t been assigned a detail of British soldiers… he assumed it had something to do with expenses. Silva's team was "willing and cheap" according to M.
Originally, Q had been overjoyed when his application to join the expedition had been accepted. He’d been so excited, thinking this trip was going to be so much more of an adventure. He’d imagined camping in a savannah watching a beautiful Indian sunset flood light over exotic animals he’d only ever seen stuffed. The reality of what he got was a trek through the soggy jungles of central India. During the day there was not an animal in sight, only the sounds of them scurrying away from the group trampling through the forest. At night, though, the animals kept the entire team awake with their incessant hooting and hollering. Q knew this expedition was going to drive him mad before it could really even get started.
On their fifth day travelling through the jungle they came across a large clearing at the base of the mountain they’d been hiking towards. The ancient, towering forest surrounded them, but they could still see the green peak stretching into the misty sky. It was late in the afternoon and the day’s clear blue sky was slowly fading to a dull orange.
“Ah! What a beautiful view, hm?” Silva looked over at M with an expectant smirk.
M cast Silva a sideways glance. “Let’s just set up our camp.”
Q had to bite back a laugh at the dramatic pout that crossed over Silva’s face. The mercenary was an odd man. M said she only hired him because he came well prepared and seemed capable. Q wasn’t sure if there was something actually wrong with mister Silva or if he was just… well… European. Either way, the Spaniard was always good for a bit of a laugh.
They had some work to do before they could lay down the foundations of their base camp. The team laid down their tents and propped them up before unpacking the rest of the camp. It was easy enough to clear the short ferns and tall grass from the clearing, the hard work came setting up tents and putting up fences to house their horses and meager cattle.
“This is perfect,” Moneypenny said with a happy sigh. She placed her hands on her hips and pointed up to the mountain. “I can start mapping out areas tonight that we can go over tomorrow.”
“One of Silva’s men is going to make us a feast, apparently,” M said, straightening her coat. She crossed her arms over her chest, seeming pessimistic about the idea.
Q watched as everyone started to get to work on one thing or another. He crossed his arms over his chest and approached M who was leaning over a map next to Moneypenny. “Anything I can do?”
M looked up at him. “Of course. You are our Quartermaster after all.” She smiled. “See to it that Silva’s men are equipped to protect our camp.”
Q knew what that meant. There was a crate on their horses and in that crate was a small arsenal donated for their protection by the crown. He needed to hand out weapons and ammunition – military grade riffles and bayonets. As went about supervising the men, Q realized some of them might be needing the most basic lessons on how to fire the things.
“Oh, Q!” Silva purred as he stripped his weapon. “I might need your help polishing my gun.” He winked at the boy while the men around him tittered quietly.
Q was shocked. He let out a hesitant laugh and moved on. “Strange man,” he mumbled to himself.
He stuck with M and Moneypenny from that point on, letting Silva instruct his men in the firing off of their riffles at the edge of camp. Q rested his head on his on one hand, his elbows on the map Moneypenny was tracing lines onto. He stared off into the jungle, listening to the sound of M complaining about the noise from the rifle fire.
“I’m more worried about the wasted ammunition,” he muttered.
“Wasted…” That realization obviously hadn’t dawned on M. “Bloody hell, Q, go stop them!” she demanded.
With a sigh, Q stood from his seat one a crate and wandered off towards the mercenary firing line. Silva stood there, looking very military with his hands folded behind his back. “And fire!” he ordered in a booming voice.
“Mister Silva!” Q called out over the volley of gunfire.
“Cease fire!” Silva turned his head, looking back over his shoulder towards him. “Hello, Q. We were just getting in some target practice.”
Q eyed the line of trees at the edge of the forest, completely stripped of their bark. “Yes, if we are ever attacked by anthropomorphic trees, I’ll be sure to call.” Silva pursed his lips at that, either because he understood that he was being mocked or because he didn’t understand some of Q’s words. Q wasn’t sure, but he continued with what he’d originally wondered over to say.
“I was having a talk with M and we think you need to be more conservative with ammunition. So, I’ll be allotting a strict allocation, and I want all but the weapons that are going to be used by the night watchmen returned to me ever evening.”
Silva seemed taken aback by Q’s assertiveness, but he nodded. “Mm, I suppose you do have a point.” He cracked a wide grin. “Such a clever boy,” he purred.
Q resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Thank you for your cooperation, mister Silva. I will see you at dinner,” Q spun around, returning to where M and Moneypenny has moved on to being a discussion on the methods they could use to keep the organization of their findings consistent. Q sat down in the same position he’d been in before and let their voices fade into the background of his mind as he stared off into the forest.
He would go exploring tomorrow. Yes. That would be far more exciting.
-o-
The next day Q wandered away from camp in the midst of an argument between M and Silva. It was the midafternoon, an awkward time around their camp. All their revising work for the day was finished an hour after them getting back from completing their exploration in the field and it was still an hour before dinner being ready. There was nothing for them to do in that time but tidy the camp wait for the evening meal.
Q knew if he asked, M would not let him go on a walk by himself, even when that was the entire point and he really needed to be alone just for an hour or so. So in the midst of their verbal sparring, he’d taken his chance to slip away for a while – only a while, he’d be back long before dinner and probably long before M and Silva were finished arguing too.
“We are not here for your sport mister Silva!” Q could hear M shouting at Silva behind him as he left, soon disappearing into the thick underbrush.
The Spaniard was chuckling. He was already reloading his pistol – a weapon of his own, thus not in their control. “If I am being told I am not allowed to shoot anything, I’m going to start wondering why I am even here at all. The promised pay wasn’t exactly impressive.”
“You may shoot them, but only when it is necessary to protect the camp,” M chided.
“Protect the camp.” Silva snorted. “That is exactly what I was doing. That monkey could have run off with our supplies.” He smirked.
“A likely tale, mister Silva. I’m having Q take your gun away! Q!” M spun around only to find her Quartermaster had vanished. “Q?” She called out, but he was nowhere to be found.
Silva’s brow creased. “Not such a clever boy after all,” he said snidely.
M took a moment to glare at him before she turned back to the ever-darkening jungle. It was only the early evening, at least two hours before it got dark, but she couldn’t help but feel concern. “Damn it, Q,” she hissed under her breath.
-o-
Lost in his thoughts, Q wandered deeper into the dense jungle than he’d originally planned. He’d been walking for an hour and before he noticed it was starting dark. When he saw the sky through the trees turn a deep orange with an Indian sunset glow, he started back towards the camp. He thought he was going in a straight line, but when he ended up back at a familiar stump in one patch of jungle, Q realized that he was lost in the dense forest.
Q paused, taking deep breaths to stave off the panic that was slowly creeping through him. He knew what procedure to take, he needed to hunker down and wait for someone else to find him, or until he could fine a way to navigate himself better. Plus, it was getting too darker now and Q knew he couldn’t risk accidentally wandering even deeper into the jungle.
A couple meters away Q found a short cliff overlooking a quiet ravine. If he became desperate he could use the ravine to navigate, he remembered they’d passed a waterway sometime before finding the site for their camp. A collapsed tree lay just before the shoulder of the cliff. Q sat on it looked around for anything he could use to make a lean-to. He was so busy in his planning that he didn’t notice he wasn’t alone until a growl startled him.
Q spun around so fast he tripped over his own feet and feel to the soft ground. At that level, he came eye to eye with a wolf. Its upper lip pulled back, flashing its sharp white teeth as it growled at him.
Q tried to scurry back as the creature came closer, it’s head bowed and eyes narrowed. The wolf seemed to sense his fear and it lunged at him. Q threw his hands up, his arms coming over his face to shield himself.
Nothing happened.
Q lowered his arms just in time to see a figure lung and tackle the wolf in mid air. The new figure scuffled with the wolf until the creature let out a sharp yelp and scurried back. The figure, Q could see now, was a man. He stood in a ready attack stance between Q and the wolf. The wolf did not seem pleased by this. It growled angrily but the man simply growled right back. It was a tense stand off, but after a hesitating moment the wolf backed down.
“Good lord,” Q whispered as he watched his attacker slink back into the trees. At the sound of his voice, the man turned. He was a grubby mess, generally unruly and practically naked save for a barely fitting loincloth. “A Wildman!”
The rough looking man approached Q, moving in so close that he was straddling the boy’s legs. He pulled off the Q’s hat, seeming startled that it came off so easily. Q imagined that he must have been thinking that it was be part of Q’s head and was relieved to find that it wasn’t. The man stared at it in confusion for a moment, but the pith helmet was quickly tossed aside and suddenly the man was gripping Q’s shirt, pulling the young man to him. He looked into Q’s eyes for a long moment, then he leaned forward.
Q blushed furiously as the man buried his face between his neck and shoulder, taking a deep breath. He quickly realized the man must have been scenting him but… What was he? Some kind of mongrel?
"Oh! Stop that!” Q cried as he felt the man’s lips on the sensitive skin there. “Get off me! Let me up!"
The man seemed confused but Q's shrieking startled him enough to back off slightly. He was still crouching over Q, looking down at the boy, curiously. As Q was trying to recover from the shock of nearly being killed, the man grabbed at him again. Without warning, he curiously shoved one hand down the front of Q's trousers, pulling it out seconds later when the boy cried out in surprise.
This time Q sat up as the man sat back. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!"
The man frowned at his tone and tried to move closer again.
"No! No." Q took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He placed his hands on the man’s chest trying not to notice how perfectly sculpted his muscle was. It made sense, if he was truly a Wildman he’d probably been living quite a strenuous life. Q snatched his hands away. Now was not the time to let his mind wonder.
Sighing, Q cocked his head to one side, curious. "Do you speak?" His response came in the man pushing in closer. Q had to push him away again lest he end up on his back.
The man was smiling, as if he thought Q was just being playful. He grabbed Q's hands and pushed him back against the soft mossy ground.
"No, I said!" Q shrieked. He wasn’t really scared anymore, just annoyed. It was maddeningly difficult to get anything through to this Wildman.
The man huffed and pulled them both back into a sitting position. He seemed puzzled by Q’s behavior, but he obviously understood his distress even if he didn’t understand the words. The moment of bewilderment gave Q a moment to actually look at the man crouching low like an ape before him.
The man was dirty, like he'd not had a proper bath ever in his life. Under that dirt and mud, Q could clearly see the man had blond hair and even though his skin was sun tanned it wasn't the same tan as any of Indian person Q had ever met.
Q touched the man’s bearded cheek, picking off a piece of dried leaf. "You don't... look like a native.” He cocked his head to one side. “Who are you?"
The man didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned in close and out of the blue he licked Q's nose.
"Uhg!" Q exclaimed, backing off, rubbing the wet mark off his nose. When he had the chance to glare at the Wildman, Q noticed that he seemed to be holding back a smile.
"You are a strange one, mister..." Q paused and frowned at the Wildman. "What is your name?"
The man didn't seem interested in his words. He was looking at Q's clothes with a strange fascination. He pulled at the boy’s scarf before moving on to grab at his glasses.
“Hey! Hey!” Q snatched his glasses back from the man. With a snap of his fingers, Q regained his attention. “What is your name?”
The man blinked at him and began pulling at Q’s clothes all over again. The shiny silver buttons on Q’s shirt seemed to interest him. He tried to pull them off, but the thread held them firm. The Wildman pouted as Q slapped his hands away once more.
“Stop that! Your name.” Q thought of how he could explain and then gestured to himself with a hand on his chest. "Geoffrey," he said in an attempt to teach the man his name in hope he’d receive one in reply.
"Gofe." It was a good try. The man seemed to know he was having trouble.
Q was surprised by how husky his voice was. It was as if the man hadn’t ever used his vocal chords. "No. Geoffrey," Q repeated, trying again slower.
"Geofe," The man winced, still having trouble with the sounds. He shook his head and made a gruff sound like an upset pup.
Q almost gave up at that point, but giving it one last shot he pointed at himself once more and said simply, "Q."
The man’s eyes widened. "Q?" he said carefully.
“Yes!” Q touched his chest again. “I am Q. You are?” He poked the man in the center of his chest.
The Wildman grunted. He mimicked Q, gesturing at himself. "James."
The way he said it was a bit odd but Q definitely heard "James". The Wildman must have had some, if relatively brief, contact with other people then. “Can you talk then?”
“Talk then?” James repeated slowly. His accent wasn’t too bad, but he was only mimicking.
“Do you speak a language?” Q clarified.
James made another grunting noise. It was clear he was quickly loosing interest in talking.
Q’s lips thinned as he pondered where to go from here. “Well, in any case I suppose I should thank you for saving my life.”
At this point, James was just staring at his lips as he spoke. He seemed almost mesmerized.
"I suppose it doesn't matter since I can’t find my way back to camp… I’ll probably die out here anyway. Damn if only I’d had the foresight to bring a compass."
James blinked at him. With a smirk, he grabbed Q's cheeks and tilted the boys head downward so he could press his nose to his dark hair, inhaling his scent. Q allowed it, but grimaced as he silently pondered the filth in the man’s knotted beard. Suddenly, James stood, pulling Q up with him.
“Oh, um,” Q blushed as he was pulled along. “Wait, where are we going?” he demanded as he was led into the blackening jungle. “James?”
James seemed surprised to hear his own name. He paused and turned. “Q?”
Q was about to ask again where James was leading him, but he realized it would be pointless. He decided to trust the man and let himself be lead into the trees. It got darker the sounds of the animals got louder, but James didn’t hesitate as he made his way through the jungle. Q couldn't imagine how worried M and Moneypenny must have been. He vowed to find his way back to the camp in the morning.
They entered a clearing before a small waterfall. It seemed this was the source of the ravine. There was a cave in the rocky cliff but the open area surrounding the mouth of it was packed with wolves. One of them, older and shaggy, crept towards them, its eyes glaring white in the moonlight. James held Q close and growled at the wolf before it could come any closer.
To Q’s surprise the wolf backed down immediately. None of the others even moved to attack them as James escorted Q into to the cave. It was dark, but at least there were no wolves in the cave. James set about making a fire.
Q explored the small space, hey eyes full of wonder. He was amazed at how a man could live in such a Spartan space. There was nothing save for a pile of furs and a few decrepit pieces of salvage. They seemed to be from an exploration similar to the one Q was on. By the dark brown stains that could only been from blood, that adventure hadn’t ended very well.
"Ah!" Q exclaimed, as he noticed a collection of small objects lying on top of the crate. There was an old map covered with navigation equipment. Q contemplated how all these objects got to this place… how James had gotten to this place.
Shaking his head, Q picked up a palm-sized compass. Seeing that it still worked he looked down at the map. The paper was decaying, but it must have been coated with something that protected it originally. The cave and the ravine were both clearly drawn on the map. By the light of the small fire and with the crumbling map Q was able to figure out the approximate area of the camp and with the compass he knew he’d be able to find his way back there.
“I need to get here? Do you know a safe path?”
James point at the map and then in the direction Q needed to go.
“Yes! Would you… like to come back to camp with me?" Q asked. "I think the others will find you perfectly marvelous!" He paused. "You don't... Understand any of this at all do you?"
“Is it near or… far?” When James frowned, Q decided he would just have to illustrate, so he stood them both up. “Near.” He said, point at his feet. Taking several steps back he gestured at the distance between them. “Far.”
James seemed to understand and he pointed at the camp location on the map. “Near,” he clarified.
Q nodded. They would try to figure out a plan in the morning, for now, he was interested in the other objects James had salvaged. There was a suitcase in the corner of the room. James didn’t seem to mind, so Q opened it up. Q coughed at the strong, moldy smell, the case obviously hadn’t been opened for years.
Inside, resting on top of everything else, there was also a framed photograph of a traveler and his young son, about ten years old. Judging by the date in the corner, the photo had been taken twenty years before.
“Is this you? James.”
James stared at the photo sadly. He pointed at the photo, from the older man to the boy. “Father. James.” He pointed at himself and smiled.
Q looked up at him, surprised by the new word. “You do speak English!” upon seeing James’ brow crease into another frown he quickly added, “to some extent.”
James huffed and handed the picture back to Q. He went over to the pile of animal furs in the corner and lay down. The fire was dying down, but James made no move to restart it. It was a particularly warm evening anyway.
Q knew there was nothing much else he could do that night but sleep. James already seemed to be drifting off. Q took an old tartan blanket from the suitcase and laid it out on the stone ground on the other side of the fire. It didn’t help much, just a thin barrier of fabric between him and the rocky ground.
Across from him, James grunted. “Q.”
“Yes?”
James seemed confused by what he was doing. He reached out his hand and made like he was trying to grab and apple that wasn’t there. To Q it looked like the universal gesture of a small child who wanted something. Apparently to James it meant ‘come here’.
Q left his spot on the musty smelling blanket and approached the furs. He noticed there weren’t any wolf furs in the pile, which surprised him and didn’t at the same time. The Wildman obviously had some kind of connection with the animals.
A lone wolf, Q thought to himself with a private smile.
He settled down next to James. There wasn’t much space for them both, but that didn’t really matter, since James seemed to want Q close. As soon as he was lying down, Q found himself pulled into the man’s strong arms. Again, he could hear James inhale deeply as he tucked Q’s head under his chin.
“Right,” Q mumbled, unable to move for James’ limbs holding him. He decided not to struggle against the hold, why bother? James had been living in the jungle for twenty years; surely this was as safe and warm as Q could ever hope to get in the circumstances. With a sigh, Q closed his eyes and nodded off to sleep.
-o-
In the early morning the feeling of movement behind him woke Q. He tried to turn but found he was still pinned with his back against James’ chest. Looking back over his shoulder Q could tell that James was obviously still asleep, but the Wildman was moving, his hips rolling in small circles as he pressed himself up against Q’s back.
Q felt his face heat in realization of what was happening. James was rutting against him in his sleep. Even through the fabric of his clothes Q could feel the hard bulge of his – apparently considerable – cock pressing between the cleft of his ass. The pressure inflamed something in Q that was usually so very well buried under layers of Victorian sensibility. As James pulled him close, Q found himself reaching into his own trousers. He started rubbing himself off against the palm of his own hand as the man held him, breath heating the back of his neck. It was base and filthy and Q loved ever tantalizing moment of the sordid affair. “Ahn!” With a bit off moan he came in his pants. Q's breathing came in short gasp as the man behind him continued his rut.
Not long after, James reached his peak with a seemingly surprised groan. Q knew he was awake by that time because as he came down, he planted his face against Q’s neck and inhaled deeply, scenting him, as was his way. With satiated fog making his mind a haze, Q found himself relaxing back into the embrace.
As the pleasure and thrill wore off, Q reviled by what had just happened. “Oh lord, oh lord,” he whispered to himself as he felt James hand slip under his shirt to run along his lower back. Q had to bite his fist to keep from letting out an indecent sound. James’ hand was wet with his release and Q could feel him gently rubbing it into his skin.
His scent, oh lord. He’s courting me like an animal.
Q’s mind was reeling at the thought. He turned, making to stop James, but as soon as they were facing each other, Q found himself caught up in those soft blue eyes. He knew, there were so many things wrong, not to mention illegal, about what he was feeling. Q was so far from caring in that moment though. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to James’ in a passionate kiss…
Only to find the Wildman completely unresponsive.
Q pulled back. James was staring down at him, eyes blinking curiously. He then leaned forward only to bury his face in Q’s neck like usual.
“I suppose you don’t.” Q sighed. Of course he didn’t know kissing. James had lived in the depths of the Indian jungle for the entirety of his adult life. Q wondered if he even fully understood what had just happened between them.
Q decided it was best not to dwell on it, lovely though the experience was. He sat up and moved to look outside the cave, wondering if it was light out yet. When he got to the edge he was suddenly hit with the reminder that the cave was surrounded wolves in the form of a particularly angry looking she wolf. She was growling at Q, much like the large male had done the day before.
Q was frozen in place. He did not move lest she lunge at him. Even as she got closer and closer no basic fight or flight instincts seemed to want to kick in. Q just stood there waiting for the inevitable.
But again, the attack never came.
The she wolf didn’t lunge for his throat. She simply sniffed the air. With an apparently satisfied huff she turned and went back to where the rest of the pack was lounging at the edge of the ravine.
Q let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He tried to calm himself, but then a hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped letting out a high-pitched, “yip!” He swore he could hear the wolves down below snorting at him.
James chuckled as well. “Q.” He said, nodding in the direction they would be travelling that morning.
“Oh! Oh yes, just let me grab that map and compass!” Q rushed back into the cave. He quickly rolled up the map, careful not to ruin it, and then he tucked it into his bag. With the compass in hand, he was about to leave when, on second thought, he also grabbed the photograph of James and his father and tucked that into his bag as well.
When Q finished and got back to the mouth of the cave, James was stille there waiting for him, chewing on a piece of what looked like smoked meat. He handed Q a piece.
Q was inclined to decline, but his stomach would not let him. He took the strip of meat with a murmured, “Thank you” and bit into it as they started back out into the jungle.
Q’s jaw ached as he chewed the tough meat, but he had to admit it wasn’t bad.
-o-