You'll come? Sort've the idea. [ He finishes with a breathless sort of amusement that's too distracted to be anywhere near biting, too entranced with watching Q press his lithe body down onto his cock with confidence, liking the red flush down his pale neck, that look leveled at him from over the tops of his glasses. Bond doesn't take his hand away but he stops it's even stroking, instead settling for easing the pad of his thumb against the wet tip, swirling slowly as they're gazes stay locked, wavered only by the flutter of lashes at a particular good thrust upwards and in.
It's too much and too good and too everything and he can't resist dragging Q back down by the nape of his neck to kiss him hungrily, messy, all tongue and teeth and chasing after a clever mouth he's suddenly imagining doing even more clever things between his strong thighs. Foreheads damp and pressed together, he tears his mouth away long enough to murmur something into the slight space between their lips, full of mirth and want. ]
There's always another go after. [ He twists his hand suddenly around Q's cock with intent, resuming his pace only quicker now. ] Come for me, Q. You want to, badly. I know you do.
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It's too much and too good and too everything and he can't resist dragging Q back down by the nape of his neck to kiss him hungrily, messy, all tongue and teeth and chasing after a clever mouth he's suddenly imagining doing even more clever things between his strong thighs. Foreheads damp and pressed together, he tears his mouth away long enough to murmur something into the slight space between their lips, full of mirth and want. ]
There's always another go after. [ He twists his hand suddenly around Q's cock with intent, resuming his pace only quicker now. ] Come for me, Q. You want to, badly. I know you do.