Greg Lestrade was considered to be one of NSY’s best. His hard work and dedication to the job also made him the most popular. Unfortunately this meant that Greg had trouble turning his mind off, after hours. His nights of late were continuously filled with nightmares of unsolved cases from his early days as a copper. His thoughts were fueled by what could have, or should have been. Greg was beginning to feel physically run down and mentally exhausted. Since the divorce, he had not been able to find a proper outlet for his stress. He had no one to talk to, and only god knows when the last time was that he got laid. It was all beginning to be too much.
Greg stood in the car park at NSY, smoking a cigarette, when a sleek black car pulled up alongside him. His mobile beeped.
Get into the car, Gregory-MH
Greg sighed. He really didn’t want to deal with Mycroft Holmes right now. He began to type out a reply, when another text came through.
I promise to make this meeting well worth your time-MH
What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean? Greg asked himself. He dropped his cigarette and crushed it with his heel.
Food and a drink?-GL
Of course. Chinese?-MH
Greg pocketed his mobile and entered the empty back seat of the car. Once the car began moving, Greg leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He’d had one hell of a week; all he wanted was…Fuck…He didn’t know what he wanted. Greg just knew that he didn’t want anything to do with either Holmes brother at the moment. Twenty minutes later the back door opened, startling Greg. He hadn’t noticed the car had stopped. He opened his eyes and looked up to see the driver patiently waiting. Greg exited the car and walked up the front steps of the rather expensive looking residence. He knocked hard on the door. Seconds later it opened. Mycroft politely invited him in and locked the door behind them.
“Before we eat, there are a few things I would like to discuss with you.” Mycroft said, leading Greg towards the living room.
“Look, Mycroft. I only agreed to meet with you because I knew you would pay for dinner and offer a stiff drink. I don’t want to talk about Sherlock, or cases, or favors, or anything remotely work related.” Greg replied, running a hand through his hair.
“What I wish to discuss has little to do with any of those things.” Mycroft replied. Greg looked at the taller man in confusion. “Shall I explain over a ‘stiff drink’?”
“I think that would be best.” Greg answered.
Mycroft nodded, turning towards the liquor cabinet to pour their drinks. He turned and handed Greg a glass with two fingers’ worth of fine brandy. Greg downed the glass in two large gulps before setting the glass aside and taking a seat. He gave Mycroft an expectant look.
“It has come to my attention that you have become…less of yourself, of late.”
“Ta, for that.” Greg replied.
“To put is simply, you are the best detective NSY has.” Greg’s eyes went wide. “Unfortunately that position comes with some unpleasant consequences.”
“Where are you going with this, Mycroft?” Greg asked.
“Correct me if I’m wrong: you’ve been experiencing nightmares from a lack of-“
“How is this any of your business, Mycroft?” Greg asked harshly, standing from the sofa.
“Sherlock is worried that they might be affecting your performance and-“
“Worried about…He’s only worried about himself, and not being able to get cases!” Greg yelled.
“Indeed, he is only looking out for himself; never-the-less, he brought the situation to my attention-“
“And you what? Invited me here to tell me not to lose my head, so I’ll keep working with Sherlock? I really don’t need this!” Greg made a move to leave.
“Stop.” Mycroft ordered softly. The word held more authority than if it had been spoken in a raised voice.
“What?” Greg asked, not bothering to turn around.
“I am offering a solution, Gregory.” Mycroft replied.
“How do you intend to help me?” Greg asked turning slowly towards the taller man.
“Sit.” Again it was a simple word, but when said by Mycroft Holmes, Greg felt compelled to comply. As Greg once again sat on the sofa, Mycroft moved to stand in front of him. “As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted, I can offer you an outlet for your stress. I would like to be the one you come to when everything becomes too much. I want to be the one you talk to when you’ve had a ‘crap’ day…”
“Would you fuck me too?” Greg asked quietly.
“If you like, but only on my terms. This is about a total release, not just the physical.” Mycroft finished the last of his brandy before setting it aside. “By submitting to me, I will provide you with everything your mind and body needs.”
“You’ll make it stop? The noise and the nightmares?” Greg asked hopeful.
“Yes. With time and proper discipline, I can.” Mycroft answered.
“What kind of discipline?” Greg asked, their eyes meeting.
“We will get to that-”
“I want to know, before we jump right into something.” Greg insisted.
“Of course, you are quite correct, Gregory.” Mycroft paused in thought. “When your day is finished, schedules permitting…” Greg nodded. “Or you’ve had a particularly horrid day, you will come to this house. If I am not here, security will let you in. You would enter…well I suppose we should use this room, for now.” Mycroft gave Greg a small smile. “I will provide you with a pillow, on which you will kneel.”
“Kneel?” Greg asked.
“Yes. You will kneel and tell me about your day. I will sit and listen quietly. When you are finished, I will have deemed what actions will be necessary to further quiet you mind.”
“We will start with simple things: spanking, light bondage, or being fucked through the mattress. As time goes on we will discuss and negotiate other activities.” Mycroft explained.
“You’re talking about tying me up?” Greg asked.
“Does that interest you, Gregory? My tying you up and teasing your senses? That would be most effective in distracting you from the noise of your mind.”
“Am I to assume that-”
“Never assume anything, Gregory. I will not punish you for asking me a question or for clarification. Your safety is of the utmost importance to me.” Mycroft said, moving a hand up to grasp the man’s chin gently.
“I’ve never…I’m new to the whole Dom/sub thing.” Greg whispered.
“I am aware. As I said, we will start slowly, I do not wish to ‘jump into things’.”
“I haven’t been with a man since before I went to the police academy.” Greg explained.
“I Know.” Mycroft removed his hand and took a step back. “I would like you to think on my offer very carefully.” He offered a hand to Greg. “Why don’t we eat and then you may go home and ‘mull things over’, as it were.”
“Good idea.” Greg slipped his hand into the taller man’s and allowed himself to be lead to the dining room.
Mycroft pulled a chair out for Greg, filling up the man’s plate before taking his own seat. Mycroft made up his own plate.
“I want you tell me about your week.” Mycroft said, breaking the silence.
“You are not my sub, Gregory. Not yet, anyways. I simply wanted for us to talk as friends. I want you to feel comfortable talking to me, with me. Trust, comfort, and safety are the basis for the type of relationship we are considering entering into. “
“You said I could ask you questions.”
“Yes.” Mycroft replied, taking a sip of the wine that he had poured for the two of them.
“I wanted to know…How is it, you make the noise in your own head, stop?” Greg asked.
“Ah...” Mycroft sat back in the chair, considering the question. “I find playing the piano very soothing; getting lost in the music. I once found that I had played for several hours without realizing it. And of course, I find caring for a sub to be effective as well.”
“I tried that, didn’t work.” Greg replied, looking down at his food.
“Not everyone is susceptible to the same way of shutting off their mind.” Mycroft offered. He reached his hand over to cover Greg’s in reassurance. “If you decide to come back to me, I will endeavor to help you.” Mycroft withdrew his hand. “For tonight we shall simply talk as friends.” He smiled.