WYG (wastingyourgum) wrote,

Fic: Keeping Time (BBC Sherlock, M/L, NC-17)

Title: Keeping Time
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Characters:  D.I. Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes
Pairings: Mycroft/Lestrade
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: none
Genre: Slash
Words: ~2190

Summary: It doesn't do to be late for a meeting with Mycroft Holmes...

Note: prompt asked for Lestrade with a humiliation kink, but also for an epilogue showing the love behind the scene.

Mycroft's chair was facing away from the door. He didn't turn as Lestrade entered the room and crossed it to stand about eight feet from the desk.

Lestrade waited... and waited. The only sound in the room was the ticking of a small carriage clock on the mantelpiece and the occasional rustle of paper from the high backed executive office chair in front of him.

Just when Lestrade thought he'd go mad if he didn't clear his throat or something, Mycroft's voice suddenly cut through the tense atmosphere.

"My message was quite clear. You were instructed to be here at seven p.m."

Shit... Lestrade bit his lip. A nasty murder in Hounslow had kept him late but Mycroft wouldn't be interested in hearing any excuses.

"What time is it, Lestrade?"

He glanced down at his wrist. "It's... seven oh nine, Mr. Holmes."

Mycroft made a small Tch of disapproval as he swivelled in his chair to face Lestrade. He was consulting his own fob watch. "It is in fact seven oh seven. That cheap piece of plastic you laughingly refer to as a watch is running fast and yet you still cannot make it here on time." He looked up and his eyes widened in horror. "What in God's name are you wearing?"

"It's a spare shirt I keep at work. The one I was wearing was... damaged."

Mycroft put down the document he was holding. "It must have been utterly beyond salvage for you to be wearing that cheap nylon atrocity."

It was covered in blood and vomit and in the bottom of a bin at the Yard to be precise.

Mycroft stared at him a moment longer before he shook his head. "No. I can't even bear to look at it. Remove it. Now."

"I... uhh..."

"Now, Lestrade - and don't make me repeat myself again. You think I have any more time to waste on you when you've already shown up four minutes late?"

Lestrade shrugged off his jacket, laid it on the floor and then unbuttoned his shirt. He wasn't wearing an undershirt so he was now naked from the waist up.

Mycroft gestured dismissively towards the metallic wastepaper basket by his desk. Lestrade dropped the shirt into it.

"And your 'watch'."

Lestrade undid the plastic strap and dropped the watch into the bin. It made a faint tinny clang as it hit the bottom.

Mycroft stood up and walked round to the front of the desk. He didn't speak but indicated the floor in front of him with his eyes.

Lestrade dropped to his knees obediently. He was already growing hard. God, Mycroft looked so immaculate; three piece suit, perfectly knotted tie, silk handkerchief, a high polish on his expensive shoes and not a hair out of place. Lestrade had a two day stubble and his hair was all over the place. One of Mycroft's socks probably cost more than everything he was wearing put together.

"I'm hardly thrilled by the sight of your naked flesh, Lestrade, but at least I've learned to tolerate it. That shirt however, was an affront to my eyesight. I shall have some new shirts delivered to your office. Although, I don't know why I'm surprised that a man of your class hasn't the first clue about sartorial elegance. I should be impressed you manage to dress yourself at all."

Lestrade kept his head down and didn't reply. His erection was straining at his trousers now.

"Do you know why I ordered you here, Lestrade?"

"No, Mr. Holmes."

"No - but you're hopeful, aren't you? Hopeful I've had a sufficiently stressful day to require a... diversion. We both know why you come running so readily - if not punctually."

Mycroft sat back against the edge of his desk, placing his hands either side of his body and crossing his long legs in front of him.

Lestrade shifted restlessly on his knees, his gaze flicking up to Mycroft's crotch.

Mycroft scoffed. "You cheap, common little slut. You really are desperate to have my cock in your mouth, aren't you?"

Lestrade nodded. "Yes, Mr. Holmes." He could feel a damp spot forming from the frustrating friction of his underwear against the head of his cock. He hated that this turned him on so much. Hated it - and loved it.

"Show me. Crawl over here and beg for it."

Lestrade shuffled awkwardly across the rich deep-pile carpet until he was only inches from Mycroft's feet.

"Look up."

Lestrade did as instructed. Mycroft was eyeing him with contempt.

"Do you have any idea of the number of smart young men within a hundred yards of this office I could have here instead of you? Well educated, Oxbridge graduates; nearly all of them from good families with healthy young complexions and lithe attractive bodies. They may find the idea abhorrent but they'd be happy for even the opportunity to get into my good books." He poked his toe into Lestrade's stomach. "But no, instead, I have a shop-worn, slightly saggy, middle-aged, former borstal brat from Bristol at my feet - whose only saving graces are an ability to mostly do as he's told and a frankly depraved predilection for being buggered and sucking cock."

Mycroft sighed heavily.

"Your eagerness to get on your knees is quite nauseating, Lestrade. If it weren't that you are at least passably skilled at your favourite pursuits I doubt I'd find any use for you at all... Go to it then. I really don't wish you to be here any longer than necessary."

Lestrade reached for Mycroft's fly but Mycroft swatted his hand away then slapped him across the face. "You ill-mannered whore. I explained to you the favour I'm showing you and you instantly forget your place."

"Sorry, Mr Holmes."

"Pathetic. I've owned dogs with better breeding. Maybe a collar and leash would help you behave?"

Lestrade couldn't help the small groan that escaped his lips.

"Good God, that thought actually excites you... Let me see then."

See what? Lestrade was puzzled.

"Take your damn trousers off, idiot. Let me see just how much being my pet arouses you, Lestrade."

Lestrade unbuckled his belt, undid his trousers and pushed them and his boxer shorts down his thighs to bunch around his knees. His cock bounced up as it was freed from his clothing.

Mycroft uncrossed his legs and ran the toe of his shoe along the underside of Lestrade's erection. Lestrade shuddered and a drop of his pre cum dripped out and smeared itself across the leather. Mycroft looked at it with disgust. "For heaven's sake... Lick that off, slut."

Lestrade put his hands flat on the floor and leaned over to swipe Mycroft's footwear with his tongue.

"Enough. Now, ask for what you so desperately want - and remember your manners."

Lestrade sat back on his haunches. "Please may I suck your cock, Mr Holmes, sir?"

"You see? You're perfectly capable of being polite when it suits you. Carry on." Mycroft adjusted his stance so there was enough room between his feet for Lestrade to kneel there.

Lestrade took the hint and moved directly in front of the other man. He reached up and swiftly undid Mycroft's belt, button and zip. His breathing sped up with excitement and he caught a sudden rush of Mycroft's scent which literally made his mouth water.

"Do try not to get too much of your drool on my trousers, Lestrade," Mycroft said scathingly.

Lestrade reached in to Mycroft's underwear and carefully freed his erection. He took a brief moment just to enjoy his favourite view. He loved cock, always had done, no denying it, but this cock, this cock he worshipped.

"Today please, Lestrade. For such a cum-hungry whore, you're taking your own sweet time."

Lestrade immediately licked up the underside of Mycroft's shaft and closed his lips in a soft kiss over the head, savouring the taste of Mycroft on his tongue.

Mycroft made a small noise of enjoyment which, from him, was practically shouting.

Lestrade hardly needed encouragement but he took it anyway and started bobbing his head in long slow slides down Mycroft's length, taking him deeper and deeper into his mouth until his lips were brushing the wiry hair at the base and the head of Mycroft's cock was nudging the back of his throat. He relaxed his muscles with long practiced skill and swallowed as much of Mycroft as he could possibly get. Mycroft's skin was like warm velvet, pulsing under his tongue as he swirled it over and around the most sensitive areas, flicking across the frenulum, darting into the slit at the top as he pulled back, almost - but never entirely - off.

From the corner of his eye he could see Mycroft's grip tightening on the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white. I'm doing that... Me...

Mycroft let out another small groan. "You filthy, cock-loving slut. I swear you'd pay me just for the privilege of getting your mouth on my shaft. I'm going to come in your mouth, Lestrade, and you'll swallow every last drop and then beg for more, won't you? You nasty little cum pig."

Mycroft raised one hand from the desk and grabbed the back of Lestrade's head, slamming himself harder and faster into Lestrade's mouth, though he was already going as deep as he could. "Such a... willing... little... pet, aren't you?"

Lestrade braced his hands against Mycroft's thighs, feeling the firm muscle rippling under his fingers as Mycroft thrust into his throat.

Mycroft groaned much louder than before and pulled Lestrade's head fully onto his cock, holding it there as he spent himself into Lestrade's mouth. "God, you bitch... You cock-sucking whore..."

Lestrade gulped down Mycroft's come as it hit his throat. So good... God, he tastes so good...

Mycroft finally released his grip and Lestrade eased his head backwards, carefully cleaning Mycroft's cock with his tongue as he withdrew.

"Thank you, Mr Holmes," he gasped.

Mycroft took several deep breaths before replying. "As I said before - passably skilled." He tucked himself back into his trousers. "You may see to yourself if you must."

"Thank you, Mr Holmes." Lestrade reached down and grasped his own cock which was slick with precum. It only took him a few moments before he moaned and tipped his head back as he came hard into his fist. "Aw, Christ... Mycroft...."

For a moment he couldn't hear anything but his own ragged breathing and his pulse pounding in his ears.

"I take it your day was as long and soul-destroying as mine, then?"

Lestrade looked up to find Mycroft offering him some tissues and a glass of water. He took the water, drained it in one and then started cleaning himself up. "Yeah. Young mum. Her dealer boyfriend sliced her up and left her body in the flat with her two year old kid. Hopefully the kid's too young to remember any of it but even so..."

Mycroft stood behind him and started massaging Lestrade's shoulder muscles. "No wonder you're so tense. I still don't quite understand why you find this scenario such a relief but you indulge my preferences so it is only fair I reciprocate."

"You whip my back, I'll come all over yours?" Lestrade chuckled.

"Something of that ilk."

Lestrade got to his feet. "Can I have my shirt back now?"

"Certainly not! I meant every word I said about that grotesque garment. I will have some new shirts delivered to you."

"My, there's no point me wearing expensive shirts. Not in my job."

"I believe I can provide you with in-expensive shirts that are still of reasonable quality. There is a great difference between inexpensive and cheap."

"Oh? And which am I?"

Mycroft opened a drawer in his desk and took out a small black box. "You, my dear Gregory, are completely without price." He handed the box to Lestrade.

Lestrade opened it. Inside was a beautiful watch, clearly expensive but very tastefully understated. He lifted it out and read the inscription on the back.


My time is always yours.


Lestrade felt himself choking up. "My... I can't take this... It's far too much."

"Nonsense - and before you fret, I will also have a more inexpensive model delivered to you for your day to day work."

Lestrade continued to just hold the watch and stare at it.

Mycroft took Lestrade's free hand in his. "Please accept it, Gregory. It comes with no obligation but I desperately wanted to give you something as a token of the very deep affection I hold you in. I want to see you wearing that when we play this game so I know you know my true feelings for you. I find it... quite hard to say some of the things I know you enjoy hearing."

"I've never once doubted you - but thank you for telling me you feel that. It should never be solely about what I want. And thank you for the watch. I'll treasure it." Lestrade slipped the watch onto his wrist and gave Mycroft a slow gentle kiss. "But I'm still not walking out of here without a shirt..."

Tags: char: lestrade, char: mycroft, fandom: sherlock, fic, pair: mycroft/lestrade, rating: nc17
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