Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Characters: D.I. Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes
Summary: Lestrade takes his time getting ready - since he knows he's being watched...
Note: More kinky Mystrade smut. Originally written for and posted anonymously in two parts under this prompt on the kinkmeme. I may come back to this since I have other ideas for it, but this is all for now...
Lestrade shuts the front door, hangs his coat up and waits for the little red light above the stairs to come on. He’s never had to wait more than a few minutes and this time is no different.
He walks up the stairs to the bedroom, strips off and heads for the shower. Takes his time, enjoying the play of hot water across tired muscles, getting himself thoroughly clean of all the physical and emotional dirt London throws at him on a daily basis. Pays perhaps slightly more attention to certain areas than he would usually. Roughly towel dries his hair when he gets out before slinging the towel around his hips and padding over to the sink to grab the shaving brush and start lathering.
He can see the red light above and behind his reflection in the mirror. Throws it a cheeky wink as he uses one hand to tug the towel loose and let it drop around his feet - knows he’ll probably pay for that later.
Minimal amounts of deodorant and aftershave and then back through to the bedroom.
He doesn’t need to look at the red light to know it has followed him. Sometimes he swears he can feel it, the sheer weight of that unrivaled attention landing on him. It should probably be watching stock markets, troop movements, secret meetings in shadowy places deciding the fate of millions - and it’s here, on him. He’s never really had much of an ego, thank god, or that knowledge would swell it beyond all reason.
Everything is where it should be in the bedside table. He takes it all out and lays it carefully on the far side of the bed, then climbs up and kneels in the middle of the bed, facing the things he’s retrieved - and the full length mirrors on the wardrobe doors.
First things first. He’s already getting hard. Slips the cock ring on, makes sure it’s tight against the base. Won’t stop him getting hard but won’t let him get soft once he is. He makes sure to sit up straight and lean back as he’s putting it on, would be a shame to block the view.
Lube next. He squeezes a generous amount on to his fingers and then sets to work.
Slowly, no need to rush. His index finger slips past the tight ring of muscle and inside. His breath starts coming in faster snatches of air; he feels his cock swelling and filling out in response to the stimulus. Slowly... a second finger joins the first. His eyes are closed now, concentrating on the sensations... Christ, that’s good. Knowing he’s being watched just makes it even better. Third finger, stretching him, opening him up for the pièce de résistance, the main event...
He reaches for it without opening his eyes - a smooth matt-black plug. Anatomically correct of course, up to a certain point at which it tapers in sharply then flares out again into a wide flat disc at the base. He spreads his knees a little further apart and puts the plug on the bed between them. Angles it up and then slowly, slowly eases himself down onto it. He could just take it all in one smooth motion but he knows how his audience likes to see him do this so he fucks himself on it for a while before finally pushing it in all the way. Sighs with relief as he feels himself stretch around the widest part then close around the base, holding it firmly in place.
There’s a hand towel to remove the excess lube from his fingers. He uses it then tosses it towards the laundry basket in the corner. The movement makes his hips twist slightly and he groans and takes a few more panting breaths as the plug brushes against his prostate.
He reaches for the second last thing on the bed and every movement makes his breath catch. There’s a light sheen of sweat on his skin now and his cock is so hard. His fingers are trembling as he fixes the collar around his neck. The chain that dangles down his back between his shoulder blades is surprisingly cold against his heated skin and makes him gasp.
Last thing - a black silk blindfold. The red light disappears along with everything else as he slides it down over his eyes. Makes sure it’s properly adjusted, then reaches behind him for the two cuffs nestling in the small of his back at the end of the chain. Clicks the first one closed then - the moment of no return - snaps the other around his other wrist.... and waits.
The key is in the pocket of the man behind the red light; the man Lestrade hopes will appear in person before too long. He never knows for certain though...
...until he hears the tiny noise of the door opening, feels the first brush of those long beautiful fingers across his skin and knows it was, and always will be, worth the wait - and the preparation...
"So beautiful - and all mine."
Fingertips skim up Lestrade's arm and across his shoulder but it's the voice that raises goosebumps; deep, cultured, unhurried - and possessive.
"I have had a terribly long day," the voice sighs. "Knowing I would have you here waiting for me at the end of it has proved a great comfort, but also somewhat of a distraction."
The fingertips slide down his chest, gently dragging through the thick, curly hair. "A man in my position could ask for almost any indulgence and it would be granted to him without question. The services I provide for others make them extremely grateful."
The fingertips return to his shoulder and are joined by a matching set on the other side. Lestrade feels a slight dip in the bed behind him as his visitor kneels between Lestrade's spread legs. He can feel the smooth, soft material of the man's suit against his back and hands.
"I could have almost anybody I want... and I choose you. You are my reward. Do you know why?"
Lestrade stays silent and fights the impulse to shake his head. There are well-defined rules for these meetings. The absence of a gag is not permission to talk. There's only one word he can say unbidden and he‘s never even thought of doing so. Not so far, anyway.
The voice leans in close to his ear so Lestrade can feel the breath of every word. "Because you want this as much as I do. You love to give yourself to me."
The touch suddenly leaves Lestrade's shoulders and his nipples are firmly grasped and rolled between thumb and forefinger. He chokes back a whimper as the sensation goes straight to his groin.
"Such complete trust is very rare in this world. I'm so glad you let me prove to you that it is warranted."
His right nipple is released and the touch moves to his stomach. A barely-there sensation of one finger following the line of dark hair down from his navel, across his groin and then down and along the overly sensitive underside of his cock. Lestrade trembles and a small moan escapes him as the finger collects one of the many drops of precum that have already leaked from Lestrade's length. He hears the faint smacking of lips as his captor tastes Lestrade's arousal.
"Delicious. I do believe I'd like a bit more of that..."
The soft material presses closer to his back and the hand takes a firmer grip around his cock. "I am going to make you come. I shall milk every last drop from you and then, I will do it again, and again, and again - even when you beg me to stop, I will keep going."
Teeth gently nip at his earlobe.
"And you will beg. You will tell me you can't, that you have nothing left to give and I will not care. I will carry on until I am satisfied."
Lestrade is trembling now, but it's not with fear or even the muscle strain gradually building in his thighs - it's need.
"Are you cold? You don't feel cold. Perhaps I should have warmed you up a little first." The fingers still working on his left nipple vanish and the firm slap of an open palm impacts on his arse.
Oh God... yes... please...
Lestrade's cock is achingly hard now and the voice is appreciative. "You like that, don't you? You're so responsive to proper correction."
"I think I could make you come without even touching your cock..."
A third spank and this time the hand moves to the end of the butt plug and gives it a gentle thrust and ever-so-subtle twist.
"Just by punishing this delectable arse."
The sensation is amazing. The thought is mind-blowing. The ridiculously posh accent with which the voice says "cock" and "delectable arse" is the icing on the cake.
Lestrade would obey any command issued by a voice like that. He can't help himself. God knows why - outside this room he won't take crap from anyone no matter how much money they have or where they went to school - but here, when he's like this, he's mentally bowing, scraping and tugging his forelock because that voice is in charge. That voice has the right to be in charge because it is perfect and Lestrade is a snot-nosed brat from the West Country who probably wouldn't even have been allowed to polish that voice's boots a hundred years ago.
It probably means he's deeply fucked in the head or something - but who cares? Right now he just wants deeply fucked in the arse - or the mouth, wherever...
Anything... Just use me... please!
The weight behind him shifts and suddenly he's untouched again. He takes a few steadying breaths, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.
Somewhere over to one side he can hear the whisper of clothes being removed.
"But I'm getting ahead of myself... After all, we must see to it that my needs are met first, must we not?"
The voice moves in front of him and long graceful fingers caress his face. Lestrade turns his head and presses a small but heartfelt kiss to the palm his lips brush against.
"Naughty..." The fondness in the voice is unmistakable and Lestrade smiles. He still can't believe his luck in finding this man who seems to know him so well and loves him just for being himself. "Do you think you need to steal chances to show your affection for me? Do I not give you enough?"
He has to answer that - permission be damned. "More than enough, sir. Always. Thank you."
"Such intransigence. I can see today we will need to revisit your lessons on self-control. Turn to your right and bend over."
Lestrade shuffles round on his knees and leans forward. Hands catch his shoulders just before he overbalances and gently lower him until his forehead touches the sheets. He's now totally exposed, arse sticking high into the air, buttocks taut with tension. His cock barely grazes against his stomach, still untouched and still rock hard and leaking copiously.
"I hope you do not expect to be called away any time soon. This may take a while..."