Work Text:
It wasn’t that Bond didn’t like his boss. Mallory turned out to be a decent guy and a kind of a father-figure for Q, so really, in Bond’s mind he was somewhere between a superior and a father-in-law. It didn’t change the fact that at the moment he hated him with passion. One phone call, informing him about an unexpected mission and his plans for the evening were ruined. He booked a table at Le Gavroche for what could only be called a date with Q and now he had to call it off, because he was flying out in 8 hours’ time and, frankly, he was exhausted at the mere thought of a flight to Myanmar. He was probably getting old, he thought, while Q was puttering around in the bedroom, preparing to go to bed. Bond wouldn’t ever admit it, but he found it sweet and touching how his boy always wanted to go to sleep together, even when it meant a disruption to his routine.
“Q, love, I wanted to take you out tonight, but now that it’s ruined, I’m leaving you my card, buy yourself something nice, okay?”, Bond joined his lover in the bedroom, more or less dragging him into the bed and cuddling him into submission.
“Don’t be silly, Bond. You’re not my sugar daddy, I can afford to buy everything I want”, Q sounded a bit miffed, as usual when he thought Bond was trying to spoil him, but suddenly he smiled devilishly. “Wait a minute, anything? Even something you possibly won’t like?”
Bond sighed inwardly. If it was left to him, he’d take Q to his tailor or maybe Tom Ford’s store on Sloane Street. Q left to his own devices would probably buy another one of his abominable, mustard-coloured cardigans. Which of course looked good on him, because anything would, but still were an offence to high fashion. Regardless, if Q wanted more of those then he should get them.
“Anything. Just promise me you’ll go shopping tomorrow. Take Eve with you and have some fun”.
“Okay. Now sleep, old man, or you’ll be grumpy in the morning”, Q kissed his jaw and nestled further into his arms and the duvet, falling asleep almost instantly. Bond followed his suit not long after, luxuriating in their embrace.
***
Q had the idea brewing for quite some time. Ever since he saw the advert for Agent Provocateur he couldn’t stop thinking whether James would like him in lingerie. Actually, he couldn’t stop thinking whether he would like himself in lingerie. He wanted to try, though, as the mere thought made him get hard. All the silk and lace would probably feel exquisite against his skin.
Bond never once mentioned being interested into gender bending, but somehow Q was almost sure he’d like it, as long as the lingerie would be something luxurious and not tacky. The thought of Agent Provocateur suddenly gave Q an idea. He had to buy some candles, red curtains and some red Christmas lights. Incense would also be a good idea. If he was going to do it, he’d go all the way.
His plan to go to Agent Provocateur straight after work backfired spectacularly because Eve and Alec decided he was looking, quote, “very cunning” and followed him discreetly. That is, they were discreet until he went into the store. Then, they made their presence known.
“Well, well. Have you found yourself a lady friend while Bond was away?”, Alec was looking at him suspiciously, which made Eve snort with laughter. At least she knew Q was 100% gay. Though, maybe that wasn’t lucky for Q.
“Pshhh, as if. Don’t be an idiot, Alec. Q, darling, are you trying to spice up your love life already? Does Bond have problems getting it up? It’s not unusual at his age, there’s pills for that”, Q was mortified. For a pair of spies, Eve and Alec made quite a show of themselves. The shop assistant was trying to keep a straight face and failing spectacularly.
“Shut up, both of you. I’ll annul your passes and ruin your credit ratings”
“Promises, promises…”, Alec singsonged while looking at the racks with bras. Suddenly, he thrust his arm towards Q. In his hand, there was a red bra, made of satin fishnet. “Here, try this”. Both Q and Eve looked at him as if he grew a second head. Q was sure he heard Eve mutter something about men and their tastes.
“Alec, I’m sure even you can see I don’t have any breasts. Of course, I could always buy it and have it made into doilies, but I’m not sure if it would have any effect on my sex life. Unless you know something about James that I don’t. If that’s the case, please don’t tell me. Eve, please, do take this heathen out of my sight”. The desperation in his voice must have been evident, as both of his friends made guilty faces and left the store quickly, mumbling that they’d be waiting for him in the café next door.
Finally, Q could browse the racks in peace. He knew, more or less, what he was looking for – he’d look funny in a bra, but playsuits were completely different. The first one that caught his eye, was a body made of thin golden chains, flowing from the neckline to the belly button and from belly button to the hips. It looked like something from Great Gatsby’s party. It would probably look good on someone with Bond’s golden complexion, but gold never looked good on his pale skin.
The next one was made of the same scarlet satin fishnet as the bra Alec had picked. It had straps from the shoulders, belt on the ribcage and the fishnet high-waistline panties meeting somewhere below sternum. It would probably be okay in black, but the red version looked kind of cheap. Any other time, Q would probably try it on, but today it was completely not what he was looking for.
The third one… the third one was perfect. It was black, straddling the line between classy and kinky. Even if Bond was not into the lingerie itself, it presented Q’s body perfectly. And if there was one thing Q knew Bond liked, it was definitely his body. Bond gave him his platinum card, so he decided to treat it as a suggestion. He topped the look with black seamed hold-ups, a golden choker and delicate golden cuffs, linked with an even more subtle chain. Feeling somewhat brave (and being cheered on by the increasingly enthusiastic assistant) he decided to try on black stilettos.
“You are a natural”, the assistant sighed dreamily, when he strutted across the store like a new born baby deer. Q wouldn’t say he felt particularly graceful, but he didn’t actually plan to stand in the shoes, let alone walk. They’d look really good on their red bedspread. “He’s going to love it. I’m starting to think someone should finally design some more things for men… Or actually for everyone who is lacking in the breast department, like me and you”. Q chuckled with the assistant.
***
When James entered the flat it was already late. He could hear some soft sounds from the bedroom and guessed that Q was already in bed, probably reading something. He went to bathroom, brushed his teeth and washed his hands, deciding he was too tired to shower. Slowly, he was starting to feel something was off, Q always got up to welcome him with a kiss and he must have heard the water. If he was okay.
“Q?”, he walked towards the bedroom, almost running and hating himself for being so irrationally anxious about his lover “Q?”
He stopped in the doorway. He literally didn’t know what had hit him. The bedroom was bathed in soft red light, everything was covered with red satin – the curtains, the bedspread, the armchairs. The air was heavy with incense. Those things were not what made him start to get hard, though. That was all Q, sitting on the bed with his legs spread provocatively, knees bent to show off his hold-up covered thighs, feet clad in some ridiculously high stilettos. His lover was dressed in some kind of playsuit, consisting only of stripes of black lace, his neck adorned with a golden metal neck clasp choker, with black spiralled chords embedded in the middle of it and two loose ends of the chord to pull it. Q’s lips were red, not just his usual shade of cherry, but blood red. One of his hands was slightly covering his cock, which was peeking out of the panties, the other lifted up. It took Bond embarrassingly long to realise that he was holding a pair of delicate golden cuffs.
Bond was proud to usually be calm and collected but there and then he had to grab the door jamb. He got rock hard in what seemed like seconds. Judging by Q’s amused grin it was much longer. He couldn’t take it anymore, almost jumping his boy.
“I thought you’d buy yourself another one of those cardigans of yours, not play Agent Provocateur… Or should I say Quartermaster Provocateur?”, Bond stroked his hands down Q’s thighs, to the tops of his hold-ups, spreading his legs wider and settling between them. “Q, you saucy minx, you almost gave me an aneurysm. What have I done to deserve such a pretty thing all dolled-up for me?”, Bond’s fingers started tracing the flowers on the lace, making Q’s thighs tremble.
“Well, I just wanted to try something different…”, Q threw his arms around his lover’s neck and moved his face close enough that Bond realized his boy had used lipstick. It was embarrassing that he didn’t notice the colour couldn’t have been natural. The crimson was contrasting with Q’s perfectly shaven, pale face. Bond couldn’t help himself, he needed to see the lipstick smeared all over Q’s face and preferably his own cock. “It’s all for you… I missed you so much, I wanted to have something special for you when you came back”, the younger man was pressing into Bond’s touch, his outfit not leaving any doubt whether he was aroused. “I couldn’t wait, I needed you here… I hope you don’t mind…”, Q grasped one of his hands and moved it higher, up to where the back of his panties should be. Only, there was no fabric, just some creatively weaved lines of lace. And where Bond expected to find Q wet and open, he felt a small bulge. He almost came on spot, when he realized Q had put a plug up his arse. As if the outfit, the lights, the smell weren’t enough to make Bond painfully hard.
Bond didn’t know what to do, he wanted to touch Q everywhere. Luckily, Q seemed to still have his wits about him, leaning up and kissing his lover sweetly. The kiss soon turned dirty, both of them desperate for each other, whispering filthy nothings and tender endearments alike.
“I don’t know how on Earth I managed to woo you and what did I do to deserve you”, Bond murmured against Q’s lips, taking the golden handcuffs from him and putting them around his wrists, circling the bedframe with the chain. They looked exquisite around his slender hands, even more so when Q started to wriggle on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position. Bond took the strap from the choker and tugged Q’s neck closer to him “Ah, ah. Stay still” he said, stroking his smooth arse cheeks with his other hand, occasionally dipping into his crack and teasingly moving the plug. “I love you, my filthy, beautiful, genius boy”, the agent punctuated each word with a gentle kiss on Q’s lips.
***
Q’s heart almost exploded. Bond had never used the word “love” other than as an endearment. The Quartermaster didn’t doubt the feeling had been there for a long time, but hearing the word… It was something else, especially considering the sweet, delicate kisses Bond planted on his lips. It felt as if it was the calm in the eye of the hurricane of their lust.
“I love you”, the words tasted sweet on his tongue and even sweeter on Bond’s lips, when they collided with his own. Their movements were getting frantic, the kisses less tender and more hungry. Suddenly, Bond stopped still for a second and then, before Q knew what was going on he felt a warm mouth on his cock and almost choked on his own tongue. The older man was massaging his shaft with his lips, his fingers creeping up Q’s thigh and tapping a slow rhythm on the base of the plug.
“Stop, God, stop, or I’ll come…”, Bond stopped immediately with a questioning look in his eyes. “I waited so long, I don’t want to come before I have your gorgeous cock inside me, please. Better come up here, I’ll slick you up a bit… I really don’t need any foreplay tonight”.
Bond scrambled up the bed, opening his trousers and tangling one hand in his lover’s hair, the other holding onto the bedframe, trying to keep his balance. Soon, Q was lost in the process of taking the agent’s cock deeper and deeper, leaving blood red smudges of lipstick in his wake. He didn’t really hear what Bond was saying, only noting it was all filthy and full of wonder. The only thing that mattered at that moment was getting James deep enough to bury his nose in the thick, reddish hair at the base of the agent’s cock and finally smell him. It was a silly little fetish Q had, pressing his face into the small bush and inhaling the very essence of his lover.
“Q, enough. Now you need to stop if you really want me to fuck you, or I’ll blow off in a second”. Q couldn’t help but smirk when he noticed the way his agent’s prick twitched when he saw the smudges of lipstick going all the way up to the base. Bond moved away, looking as if it was the last thing he wanted. Before Q had a chance to protest, he leaned down, licked into his mouth and whispered, “I need to get naked to feel all this lovely lace”.
Soon, Bond was on him, his naked skin deliciously rubbing against Q. This was his definition of heaven. He was pressed into the soft sheets, surrounded by James, safe, cherished and loved. His stiletto-clad legs were crossed behind Bond’s back as Bond gently slipped out the plug and placed his own prick at Q’s hole. It all felt deliciously kinky; the feel of lace rubbing between his cheeks as Bond moved the panties further aside, the smell of incense and their arousal in the air, the view of Bond’s cock smeared with lipstick and spit, the taste of his precome on Q’s tongue. It was beginning to feel too good, even before James pressed his hips forward, finally breaching Q’s quivering rim. The feeling of being filled up with thick cock and the gentle tickling of his lover’s coarse pubes on his sensitive skin made him arch his back and moan loudly.
***
”I missed you, boy”, Bond murmured into Q’s ear, grinding further in, reveling in Q’s tight body and the subtle tickling of the straps of his boy’s panties on the base of his cock. “I hate leaving you”. He also hated sprouting the emotional bullshit, but was too overwhelmed to stop it. Judging by Q’s wide open eyes and a surprised gasp, he probably should be more open with his feelings. Bond was slowly losing control and Q’s tongue delicately asking entrance to his mouth didn’t help. His boy’s face was all scrunched in concentration, his back arching, hips meeting Bond’s own thrust for thrust. He lifted up a little and moved his hand towards the choker on Q’s beautiful neck and tugged; not hard enough to cut off the air supply, but pretty tight. Q finally took one of his legs from around Bond’s hips and placed it on his chest, teasing him with the heel next to Bond’s nipple. Bond took the stiletto in his hand, massaging Q’s foot in it, feeling dazed at the view. Q’s moans got louder at that, his hands cuffed to the bedframe tightening their grip on it.
Bond was quickly approaching his climax and he couldn’t help himself. It was all too good for him not to lose it like a teenage virgin. Only Q could reduce him to that and it wasn’t only because of his beautiful body. Bond’s never felt this close to someone, never felt safe enough to completely let himself go. And that was exactly what he did. He grasped Q’s hips, tilting him so that his next thrust could go somewhat deeper and then stilled. When his orgasm hit him, for a moment there was only him and white light, but then everything was Q, Q, Q. Before Q, sexual ecstasy had always been a solitary experience for him. He always claimed that with la petite morte, just like with the real deal (and who would know that better than him?), there came a feeling of total solitude, there was only you and your body. Now though, he got why people used the expression “two bodies become one”. It was so much more than just joining their bodies.
Soon, he regained strength in his extremities and realized that Q was still hard and leaking. Without hesitation, he gently slipped his cock out of Q’s slowly contracting arse, ignoring his noise of protest and moved down the bed. His lover didn’t have much time to object, as Bond quickly detached the handcuffs from the bed but still leaving them on Q’s wrists and then swallowed him down, simultaneously pressing three fingers into his arse. Q’s arched his back, shouting hoarsely. His lithe thighs were trembling so badly around Bond’s head that he was sure his boy would have sore muscles. The agent decided not to tease his lover, instead going straight for his prostate and sucking his prick enthusiastically.
“Oh… I-I’ve never had head half as good as yours”, one of Q’s hands tangled in Bond’s head trying to press him deeper onto his cock, the other started teasing his own nipple. “If all the guys in HQ would know what you can do with your lips… nobody would be making eyes at Moneypenny…”, Bond almost snorted at that; trust Q to believe his lover could turn anyone bisexual. “Your lower lip… if you’d only know how many times I wanked off to the thought of tracing your lips with my wet prick…”.
It seemed that Q’s words were doing as much to excite him as Bond’s mouth and fingers. Q was getting more and more worked up, his hips undulating, chasing pleasure on both ends, his hands moving to his agent’s ears, keeping him just where he needed him the most. Pretty soon, Bond felt him release a huge drop of precome and then tense up and come. The older man swallowed, licking the sensitive tip of his boy’s pretty pink cock and eased his assault on Q’s prostate. Soon, he’d be too sensitive and Bond didn’t want to overwhelm him.
***
When Q’s brain went back online, he noticed that Bond was resting his head on one of his thighs. It was probably because he was still grasping one of his agent’s ears. If he wasn’t red in the face already, he’d probably blush. Bond was always laughing at Q’s obsession with his ears, but really, they were kind of perfect, an ideal place to grasp when he wanted to steer the agent’s lips towards his groin.
“C’mon, Quartermaster Provocateur, let’s get you out of this and into the shower. You don’t want lace dried up to your arse with semen”, Bond was playing with the straps of his panties, his thumb teasing Q’s hipbone. “But first turn around, I need to see the back of this playsuit”.
Q did as he was told, feeling some come slip out of his arse in the process. The slight discomfort of moving his cramped muscles was well worth hearing Bond’s gasp.
“Q, you filthy pretty thing, that’s incredible”, Bond murmured into the back of Q’s neck, admiring a small white drop leaking out of his ass. “Come on love, push it out for me” he said and Q did, hearing Bond’s filthy comments and feeling his agent’s sperm leaking down his arse. Bond leaned down and licked it. “I want to leave you like that, put that plug back inside and send you to work”, he nuzzled his face back between Q’s soft cheeks before continuing. “You’d talk to your minions and I’d sit back and I’d know that you’ve got your arse full of my come. Alas, not today”. His hands wandered up to the choker, tightening it snugly on his lovers neck. “C’mon, let’s go take a shower before I fuck you again, you little minx”, he said, slapping Q’s cheek and hooking his fingers on the choker, dragging Q towards the bathroom.
“Wait James, I’m afraid these heels were made for fucking not walking” Q said, giggling at his own joke. Bond sighed as he always did at Q’s embarrassingly poor jokes, taking the shoes off. “You should consider showing yourself to Eve in them, she’d be pretty jealous of how sexy one can be in heels” he said nuzzling at Q’s neck. Q decided not to say anything, thinking of even more sneering comments from Eve and Alec’s side that might pop up at that sight.
Once inside the bathroom, Bond unfastened his cuffs and set them on the counter. There, partially hidden by the hand lotion, stood the elegant tube of Tom Ford lipstick. He picked it up and seemingly noticed that the shade was called “Cherry Lush”, which made him chuckle. He always said that Q had cherry lips and it seemed that he didn’t miss the reference.
“You look good enough to eat in that colour”, he said turning towards Q with the lipstick in his hand. “You should consider going to work like that… though maybe not, I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from molesting you, right on your desk”.
“Very funny… Besides, you seem to find it hard, no pun intended, not to molest me at work anyway. Maybe I should try putting some lipstick on you, for a change”.
“Oh, you did put some lipstick on me alright”, Bond leered, suggestively looking down on his own soft dick, which still had some faint smudges of red at the very base. Q almost rolled his eyes. Still, the idea of Bond in lipstick was too tempting not to try. He gently pried the tube out of his lovers hand and tilted his head. He applied the lipstick and couldn’t help himself, he just needed to kiss those perfect lips. Bond didn’t seem to have any problem with that, readily kissing him back, his hands tracing the lines of the playsuit’s back and caressing his still leaking hole.
When they parted to breathe, both of their faces were smeared in red. Bond looked thoroughly debauched, Q thought with a hint of pride. He needed to do something, to kiss him some more, to have him inside again. His veritable Agent Provocateur.
It was Bond’s laughter that made him realise he said it out loud. He never had any brain-to-mouth filter this fucked out but what did it matter, he thought cuddling his James tight.