#model!q

***

“Bugger. Moneypenny,” Eve answered, gesturing to Bond that she had to take the call. Just before she exited, Eve shot a warning look at him, one that said he had better not get any ideas about the oh-so-lovely model that was currently disrobing.

Bond’s breath caught in his throat, dick twitching in interest as the robe pooled at Q’s feet. His eyes dragged over Q’s body, taking in the red lace panties that hugged every inch of Q—leaving next to nothing to the imagination—and a matching garter belt, straps hanging loose without stockings to clip on to.

It was only when Q cleared his throat that Bond realised he’d been caught staring and he shook his head, desperate to clear his lust filled thoughts.

It wasn’t that he’d never done a lingerie shoot before, they made up most of his portfolio really, but male lingerie was totally new. This spoke to Bond on a deeper level, though that was possibly just his dick taking an interest in the mostly naked, svelte male model standing before him. He willed himself to calm down. He was moving on from those sorts of things and had vowed not to take another model to his bed. It had been the first step on his road out of the fashion world and so far Bond had been able to stick to it. He just had to make it through this one day without slipping up and everything would be fine.

Posting just for you @cherrygoldlove and to appease the masses because I do post a lot of terrible stuff. Sorry!

Enjoy!

***

“Tea break, boys,” Eve called, interrupting Bond’s flow.

He hadn’t even noticed Eve return and had to guess, from the look on his face, Q hadn’t either.

Bond felt a stab of disappointment when Q picked up his robe and slipped it on, tying it around his waist as he moved through to the kitchen.

He stood in the bedroom for a few minutes, pretending to flick through the photos he’d taken. When he was certain he was alone, Bond adjusted himself. He wasn’t hard but his dick was certainly interested in everything about Q. Well, what his dick really wanted was to rub against Q’s lace covered arse.

“Cuppa?”

Bond coughed, almost dropping his camera at Eve’s voice.

“Need a moment?” she asked, a laugh bubbling out at Bond’s flushed expense.

“Shut up,” he muttered, placing his camera on the bed before moving past her and finding his way to the small balcony. He rested a hip against the railing as he pulled the packet of cigarettes from his pocket, sticking one between his lips and lighting it.

Seriously, this is taking on a life of its own.

***

There were black straps containing Q, criss-crossing over his torso with little bits of lace attaching the front to the back. It was somehow the perfect combination of flirty and fragile to edgy and dangerous. Thankfully, Q was wearing plain black briefs under the playsuit so Bond was saved from seeing everything. Well, he told himself he was grateful for that, even if he didn’t really believe it.

Bond fiddled with his camera settings, trying to get his focus off Q. When he was in the zone, it would be easier to ignore the effect Q was having on him. But until then, Bond had to try everything in his arsenal to will his erection away.

It worked until Q stretched on the couch, his back arching off the cushions and drawing Bond’s eyes to the tempting curve. The straps pulled taut against Q’s stomach, digging in ever so slightly in a way that made Bond imagine what it would look like if his fingers were pressed against the milky skin instead.

Bond shot a pleading look at Eve who was watching him, her eyes crinkled in amusement. ‘Oh,’ he thought. She knew exactly what was playing through his head and was enjoying watching him squirm. This little favour was quickly becoming much more than he had originally owed her and Bond was going to make sure she paid in spades. There was going to be a lot of grovelling before they were on even ground again.

Q cleared his throat. “If you wouldn’t mind,” he said when Bond’s gaze finally landed on him.

He was packing away his equipment in the bedroom, ready to make a quick escape when Q’s voice filtered into the room, clear and frustrated.

“—you do this?”

“We needed a photographer,” Eve replied, piquing Bond’s interest. They were talking about him?

“Did it have to be him?”

“He owed me a favour. Nothing more, Q.”

Q snorted and Bond wished he could see the look on Q’s face, certain it would be absolutely priceless. “Nothing more than a boy toy in a tight shirt. I didn’t need this now.”

‘A boy toy?’ Bond wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or offended but decided he really didn’t need to hear any more in Q’s derisive tone so he shoved the remaining items he owned into his bags. He grabbed them all, hastily settling them on his shoulders and made his way out of the flat, calling out a quick goodbye to Eve as he left.

Peeps, stop giving me ideas, I'm backlogged enough as it is ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )

You're safe! I’m writing this right now.

Have a snippet!

***

Eve led him to the bedroom where a few assistants had been setting up lights and staging the room to make it look more polished.

Bond sighed and shrugged, he shouldn’t have taken Eve at her word when she said it wasn’t a fashion shoot. He set his things down and started adjusting the lights that were set up, making sure everything was in working order. He took a few snaps to check the light levels and framing.

He was making the last adjustments to his camera settings when Eve came back, a dark haired wisp of a man following behind her.

The man—Bond hesitated to call him a boy despite how young he looked—was barefoot with a black silk robe tied tightly around his waist, accentuating the slim build and pale complexion. This was probably what Eve meant when she said it was right up his alley.

Go read it on AO3!