Blind Scars IV

“I would actually,” Bond grumbled, swallowing his tongue and the words rolling there, lifting his palms millimetres away from his skin so Q could still feel their heat but not the touch. “Tell me.”

Q groaned impatiently. “This was your idea, Bond. We’re supposed to be exploring you,” he said with all the seduction in his tone he could muster. He ground his hips down in a particularly provocative motion that blindsided Bond, which was impressive given his training against the manipulation of such manoeuvres.

Bond pulled his hands back further, stilling his lips. Q sat back once more. “Fine,” he muttered with a sigh. “I fell off my bike.”

Bond tried and failed to stifle a chuckle. “Maybe you should invest in some stabilisers?” his laughter gearing up a notch.

“Stabilisers?” Q grinned back. “On a motorbike?”

THAT shut the fucker up.

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