Work Text:
“Thank you, admiral. Good night.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, at least the steak was good,” Bill mumbles as he and Gareth walk out of the restaurant to where Baxter is waiting by the car. M suppresses a groan and runs a hand over his face instead. Not the best dinner meeting, no.
“Evening, sirs.” Baxter greets them with a nod while opening the rear door. Bill lets Mallory enter first before sliding into the backseat next to him.
“We will be heading home, then I will have to go back to headquarters,” Mallory says once Baxter starts the car.
“Certainly.”
Tanner frowns and turns to face the other man.
“Even if I didn’t know how much you slept the past few days, or better said- haven’t slept, the bags under your eyes are one of the many signs signalling you need to rest.”
“With all due respect, sir, so do you.” The eyebrow that Gareth raises at Bill’s quip used to be more intimidating then it is now.
“Will you please get in the house and warm the place up a little? I won’t take long, promise.”
Tanner lets out a breath, further arguments dying on his tongue, and opens the door of the car.
After entering their home and re-arming the security systems, Bill drops his briefcase on the small table in the hallway and lets his shoulders sink for the first time in what feels like ages. He loves his job, god he does, but a break every now and then would be nice. Just a few days without Bond blowing up another embassy or budget meetings or one of the hundreds of people working at MI6 calling him at the most ungodly times of day.
The way up the stairs is slow, limbs only barely functioning to carry his body to the ensuite. He loosens the knot in his tie and takes the piece of fabric off, feeling a little more like he can breathe again. The gun underneath his arm goes to its designated place and the pieces of suit are rudely discarded on the ground as Bill makes his way to the shower.
Scalding warm water has done some good to his sore muscles, the miles on MI6’s treadmill this morning might have been too much, but Bill finds himself relaxing into the sofa’s soft cushions at last. Gentle flickers of fire light embrace the room in a comfortable hue, the warmth adding to a simple statement: this is home.
“Now this is what I call homecoming,” Gareth mumbles, gently placing his hands on his partner’s shoulders. He squeezes there and feels how Bill almost melts into a puddle.
“How was the call?” Tanner asks as he leans his head back on the couch to meet Gareth’s eyes.
“We’ll discuss it in the post-meeting tomorrow.”
They gaze into each other's eyes a moment longer, until Gareth leans down and presses their lips together in a soft kiss.
“I’ll shower and be right back,” he murmurs.
Rain is pouring over London by the time Gareth gets back and Bill has set down two mugs of tea on the table in front of the fireplace. With all the time they spend at HQ, where they are faced with the world’s cruellest works, it almost seems too domestic to be true. But all that is forgotten when they are finally wrapped into each other's embrace, quietly sipping on the warm tea and everything is at peace.
“I really like this record.”
“I know,” Bill answers as a matter of fact. Then, after a small pause, adds: “shall we dance?”
If Gareth was surprised at the suggestion, he didn’t really show it. He just placed their mugs on the table and held out his hand for Bill to take. Without hesitation, Bill let himself be pulled up from the sofa and back into Gareth’s arms. As they start swaying to the beat of the music, Bill confesses.
“I actually don’t really know how to dance- I just knew I wanted to dance with you.”
And Gareth was surprised, then. The frown on his forehead says it all.
“But you are Bill Tanner, you know everything.”
“I wish that were true,” the younger man chuckles.
“You have all the charms, surely someone has been dying to dance with you-”
“Even if you are right, I never learned to dance so I’d rather not make an embarrassment of myself in a room full of watchful eyes.”
“Of course I’m right, I know
I
have been dying to dance with you.”
Bill rolls his eyes and starts to regret bringing this topic up in the first place.
“So since it’s only you and me here, let us dance.”
A good forty minutes later, the basics are taught and the LP is reaching its final song. Turns out, Bill is actually a naturally good dancer.
The two of them slowly dance their way through the living room, holding each other in a secured embrace, letting memories of the past flow around them in silence. Lost agents, car chases, the fall of C, heracles.
“We have been through rather a lot, haven’t we?”
“Hmm,” Mallory hums in agreement. “I’m sorry,” ready to start a string of apologies about everything that went wrong in the past.
“It’s alright now,” Bill whispers as he strokes his cheek, traces the slight stubble there and ends the path at the back of his partner’s neck. “At least we were, and still are, together in the midst of it all.” He rests his head on Gareth’s chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat almost lulling him to sleep right there.
“I have something for you. Wait here.” Gareth untangles himself and retreats to the hallway, returning with a medium sized, wrapped box. He places it into Bill’s hands with a nervous smile tugging at his lips. “Open it.”
With a confused gaze, Bill starts unwrapping the package, shocked to find an elegant case with the red Omega logo.
“You are joking, right?”
Gareth continues to look at him, now with a slightly stoic expression, determined not to unveil anything just yet. Bill opens the box, revealing a beautiful Speedmaster. The man remains speechless, almost dropping the watch in shock.
“What-” he starts. “This is not for me, right?”
“Take a look at the back.”
Turning the watch around, Bill discovers an engraving in the glass.
From G to B
“I know it might be a little security risk..,” the other man trails off.
“A simple silver ring would have done it, Gareth..”
Now it’s Gareth’s time to stay silent as he blinks at the man in front of him.
“I’m joking,” Bill chuckles, though he is not too sure about his answer. This watch is so much more than a gift. It’s a whole declaration in itself, especially coming from a man like Gareth.
Gareth, who was too humble to tell Bill how he feels, who made sure Bill got to rest as much as he could between all the national- and international crises that would need his attention. Gareth, who finally allowed himself to drop his guard and lower the bridge to his well-protected castle so Bill could walk in and piece together the pieces Gareth had lost along the way.
“Why?” He asks, because it’s not his birthday, nor their anniversary.
The older man, who was still processing Bill’s previous comment (did Bill really think he was going to propose?,) seems shaken out of his thoughts and focuses his attention back at his partner’s question. He takes his time to think of the right words to say, and Bill Tanner, ever so patiently, waits.
“Because- Because I know I don’t tell you a lot but I love you, so much. And I wanted you to have something as a reminder.”
And Bill knows. Knows he is loved by the man he loves because it is in everything he does. The small smiles reserved just for him, the gentle kick against his foot during meetings, the cup of earl grey brought to his desk when it turns out to be a late one again. He doesn’t need to hear Gareth say it, because he already says it without words.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” Bill breathes out, feeling the familiar sting of tears behind his eyes.
“I took it to Q, it has some special features.”
Bill huffs a laugh in amusement. Of course it does.
“Put it on?”
“Yes, of course. Can you..?”
It’s the look with which he gazes at Gareth, the softness and the gentle pool of unwavering dedication. The stress faded from his face now that they are in the safe confines of their home. He almost looks like- dare he say- a puppy. Gareth wants to wrap him up in his arms again.
He takes the watch from Bill’s hand and moves it around his wrist, closing the clasp once it’s in place.
“It fits perfectly,” Bill confirms. “Don’t tell me you actually measured my wrist when I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Q did,” Gareth smiles innocently. “You are too much of a light sleeper so I couldn’t do it. I would have asked your tailor but Q said he knew a way.”
“Sneaky bastards.”
After setting the box aside, Bill wraps his arms around his partner’s neck. Their silent conversation exchanges many things. A lot of which remains unspoken, except for this one sentence.
“I love you.”