A/N: Ok, so this is my first fic in a really long time (like 10 years), so I thought I'd start with something small. I think I would like to continue this hopefully and see where it goes. Ahh, so scary to post!
It wasn't the first time he'd heard an agent fucking a mark through his earpiece. But it was the first time it was James Bond's voice he was listening to. His smooth voice growing deeper, his throaty laughs, the soft sliding of skin just audible. Q shifted in his seat, alone in his office. It was well past midnight and he'd chosen to work here in his slightly more comfortable chair and with his tea nearby. He felt his body reacting to the moaning and was glad he had made that decision.
Q heard the rustle of clothing being removed, his mind starting to imagine vividly what skin would be revealed. Bond's well-muscled arms and abdomen, his smooth pectorals, a trail of soft hair leading southward. Bond's hand running down the side of Q's neck, over his collarbone, dipping into his open button-down to glide over his ribs, while Bond's lips were ghosting over his own. He heard the woman sigh breathily and wondered what had precipitated that reaction. Was Bond stroking her breasts? Were his lips moving up her thighs? He heard Bond's throaty hum and it went straight to his groin.
Q felt himself growing increasingly harder. Working at MI6 left no time for socializing, and it had been ages since he'd had a good fuck. Yes, that must be why his body was being so responsive, why he was so turned on by 007's pornographic breathing and moans. Nothing more than that. Not like he thought about Bond when he was having a solitary wank at home in bed. Of course not. Checking to be sure that his end of the connection was muted, he then slipped lower and began to palm himself through the fabric of his pants, making a small moan himself. The pressure felt good, and Bond's breath in his ear sounded fantastic, but he strained upward, wanting so much more than his own hand.
Their coupling in his ear began to get louder and more heated as more clothing was removed and he could hear the crash of lips and the bed creaking beneath their movement.
"Please, I want you now," the woman breathed out, Q's mind echoing the exact same sentiment. Bond chuckled again and he could hear their movements slow and a low groan from Bond as he pushed inside her wet warmth. This caused Q to growl and clutch at himself harder, imagining Bond's length sliding inside of him, filling him up. Losing any sense of modesty that was left, Q shoved his pants down and began stroking himself roughly in time to the grunting thrusts coming in through his ear.
He imagined Bond reaching between their bodies, stroking Q's cock as he slammed in and out of his tight body. He imagined their lips finding each other's briefly, tongues brushing against each other through quick gasps. He imagined wrapping his legs around Bond's firm torso, running his hands up and down his arms and back, pulling him closer and deeper inside.
"Harder, please, fuck me harder," the woman begged, and Bond obliged, the moaning of both become louder and more desparate, reaching a climax. Q stroked himself harder, feeling his orgasm building up as he concentrated on that deep voice in his ear, the strong hand he imagined on his cock, the burning feeling of being filled completely. He came suddenly, spilling over his hand and onto his stomach.
He listened to the silence across the comm, only punctuated by some heavy breathing and then suddenly some breathy laughter. His breathing slowly became more even as he felt his body relax into his chair, his mind blissfully blank.
"I hope that was good for you," James murmured and Q half wondered through his post-orgasm haze if that comment was directed toward himself. What a cheeky asshole.
The woman giggled delightedly and Q heard some deep kissing followed by some more rustling of the bed sheets. He wiped off his sticky hand and stomach, grateful that his cardigan had made it out unscathed. He didn't really want to walk out of his office after that with only an undershirt on. His employees would definitely wonder. He heard murmurings over the connection and then silence and deep breathing as the woman obviously fell asleep.
Then he heard Bond clicking softly, obviously having located the needed laptop. "I'm in, Q." His voice was quiet and all business.
"Got it," Q responded, snapping out of his reverie, his hands suddenly flying over his own keyboard. All other thoughts fled from his mind as he honed in on his job. The work, the work, nothing else matters, his brain repeated. But deep in the back of his mind, he knew he was kidding himself.
Two days later, Q watched as Bond came into Q branch to return his equipment after his debriefing. He felt his cheeks slightly flush in embarrassment at what had transpired even though Bond was not aware. Christ, to Bond this was an everyday matter so why should Q be so embarrassed? His mind briefly flashed to the climax he'd heard crystal clear being moaned into his ear, and he quickly looked down so any flashes of emotion that flitted across his face could not be seen.
Bond strode up to him confidently, placing his gun and earpiece on the table in front of Q.
"In perfect order this time. I thought you would be pleased." Bond's voice was a low murmur and as Q looked up, he saw a smirk at the corner of Bond's lips that he kind of wanted to slap and then kiss.
"Pleased?" Q responded. "Yes, very…" he said, trailing off. Bond's smirk turned into a full out grin and Q became slightly flustered, belatedly realizing what he might have been admitting to.
"I rather liked you in my ear," Bond intoned as his lips returned to a smirk and he turned around to leave. Q stared at the retreating figure and his impeccably fitted suit. He could feel himself turning a bit redder, and busied himself with cataloguing the returned equipment. Well, fuck. That made things more complicated.