Work Text:
Q lifts up off of Bond, hissing softly when the agent's softened erection slides out of his well used hole.
His legs are still shaking slightly but he makes his way to his desk and pulls out a couple tissues from the box standing there. He cleans up his cock first, gently lifting it up and running the tissue all over the sensitive skin, then folding the paper in half rubs up his belly. Throwing them away, he pulls a couple tissues more and reaches behind himself, rubbing between his cheeks and over his gaping hole cleaning up the lube. Making another mental note he promises himself next time to have the wet wipes handy not the dry tissues that feel scratchy and too stiff against his sore rim.
He's a little bit disappointed that Bond had a honeypot mission this time and they couldn't have gone bare. The agent used protection, but still, Q had strict rules.
The boffin gave a sad sight thinking of the lovely pink plug laying in the false bottom of one of the drawers. He loved to use it to trap the blond's cum in his channel.
No use having it up his sore, empty arse now.
With an annoyed scowl he looked back at the agent.
“I should have you lick me out now.” He said as he was still rubbing the tissue between his arse cheeks, face twisted with displeasure.
Bond gave him a long speculative look, just sitting there, still fully dressed save his open fly, trousers tugged down to mid thigh.
“Come here then.”