Biology and the Perils of Efficiency
Mar. 25th, 2019 08:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwyllionTitle: Biology and the Perils of Efficiency
Author: gwyllion
Genre: Canon era
Pairing: 00Q
Rating: NC-17
Words: 200
Warning: None
Summary: Bond is the oldest agent on the MI6 payroll.
A/N: Biology and the Perils of Efficiency won second place in week 2 of the 2019 00Q Last Drabble Writer Standing challenge. The week 2 prompt: 200 words; Seven paragraphs exactly, Use the following phrase “just one shot.”
Disclaimer: I did not create these characters. No disrespect intended. No profit desired, only muses.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime, thanks so much for reading!
Sweaty and panting, but far from sated, Bond lay facedown on the duvet. Every muscle in his back tensed beneath Q’s fingertips.
Outside, the rain fell. The power had failed an hour earlier, but Q’s flat glowed with the help of some candles. When Bond escorted the Quartermaster home from the floodlit halls of MI6, he hadn’t expected an invitation inside.
Q grabbed two handfuls of firm arse. He took care to massage them deeply before lowering his mouth to the small of Bond’s back.
Bond gasped and shuddered, too breathless to demand that Q get on with it.
Moving toward his prize, Q felt the fluttering beneath his tongue. He maintained his demeanor, no matter how badly he wanted to grin. He drew back and blew a gust of hot breath across Bond’s arsehole. The candles flickered, sending shadows across the walls.
Bond’s toes clenched as he found his voice. “Don’t stop, for fuck’s sake!” he pleaded for Q to continue.
Q smiled and rested his hand on one arse cheek. Biology dictated that a man of Bond’s age had just one shot. Q was determined to make it worth his while… even if it took him all night.
Author: gwyllion
Genre: Canon era
Pairing: 00Q
Rating: NC-17
Words: 200
Warning: None
Summary: Bond is the oldest agent on the MI6 payroll.
A/N: Biology and the Perils of Efficiency won second place in week 2 of the 2019 00Q Last Drabble Writer Standing challenge. The week 2 prompt: 200 words; Seven paragraphs exactly, Use the following phrase “just one shot.”
Disclaimer: I did not create these characters. No disrespect intended. No profit desired, only muses.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime, thanks so much for reading!
Sweaty and panting, but far from sated, Bond lay facedown on the duvet. Every muscle in his back tensed beneath Q’s fingertips.
Outside, the rain fell. The power had failed an hour earlier, but Q’s flat glowed with the help of some candles. When Bond escorted the Quartermaster home from the floodlit halls of MI6, he hadn’t expected an invitation inside.
Q grabbed two handfuls of firm arse. He took care to massage them deeply before lowering his mouth to the small of Bond’s back.
Bond gasped and shuddered, too breathless to demand that Q get on with it.
Moving toward his prize, Q felt the fluttering beneath his tongue. He maintained his demeanor, no matter how badly he wanted to grin. He drew back and blew a gust of hot breath across Bond’s arsehole. The candles flickered, sending shadows across the walls.
Bond’s toes clenched as he found his voice. “Don’t stop, for fuck’s sake!” he pleaded for Q to continue.
Q smiled and rested his hand on one arse cheek. Biology dictated that a man of Bond’s age had just one shot. Q was determined to make it worth his while… even if it took him all night.
