Title: Ablaze

Fandom: Sherlock BBC

Pairings: Mystrade (Mycroft/ Lestrade), Others/ Lestrade

Warning: non-con/ dub-con, slash, angst, kinks/ fetishes, sexual abuse of minors, potential suicidal, brief mention of drug use

Beta: branwyn

AN: I've uploaded the betaed version of the first 9 chapters. There is no change to story/ plot. So there is no need to reread these chapters if you had read them before.

For the Sherlock BBC Kink Meme: Mystrade with unintentional dubcon (.?thread=75271812#t75271812)

Full prompt: Lestrade used to be in an abusive relationship with his boss during his first year in the yard. His partner blackmailed him into having sex with him (with his gangster/ prostitution past etc.) He finally got out of it when the man was killed during a case. Year and years later, he met Mycroft, who fell for him. Mycroft had never been in a real relationship in the past (only one night stands etc.) due to natural of his job. He was really forthcoming about his position & power (or as forthcoming as he could be), as well as his fetishes and kinks. He didn't want to scare Lestrade, but he still wanted the man to see the full picture before making his decision, just to be fair. Unfortunately, Lestrade didn't see a man who genuine cared for him, only a predator who would go extreme measures to get what he wanted, just like his old boss. So he agreed to be Mycroft's lover to protect his career and his team. He went along with all of Mycroft's requests and participated in various sexual kinks, like bondage, breathplay, orgy etc. against his own will. And he was getting more depressed as time went on. Mycroft didn't realise there was anything wrong with his relationship due to lack of experience with long time relationship, and Lestrade had been trained as a perfect actor. Until one day, he found Lestrade pointing his gun at his own head...

Chapter 1

"Do you know your safe word?"

"Yes." He replied. His hands were cuffed together above his head, with his own hand cuffs. So he stopped struggling.

"Say it then."

"Scotland Yard." He was blind folded. He no longer could see anything, other than faint rays of artificial light that managed to slip through the black material. So he closed his eyes.

"Again."

"Scotland yard." He was reminded of his team, of Anderson, of Sally, and his twenty-something year career as a copper. So he replied, and forced himself to relax…

Much later, he curled his body into a ball on the bathroom tile. The shower was running, and he let himself be covered by burning hot water. It made his backside burn even more. It was already tender from spanking, but he didn't care.

It was a shelter.

His shelter.

At least for a moment.

Allowing himself a moment of peace like this was a little habit that he picked up while working as an escort years back. Not that he had the opportunity to do so too often. He had to put bread and butter on the table for his younger brother and sister, not pay for unnecessary water bills.

At least, he could do this now.

It was an improvement. Even he had to admit it.

The man had been kind; he had to give that to him. He didn't break any of his skin. It was raw and red, but not bloody. And he'd had far worse in the past. He appreciated the small gesture of kindness.

He forced himself to stand up before water ran completely cold. He had a job to go to. He made this choice to keep his job, and he wasn't about to ruin it himself.

He turned the water off, and towelled himself dry. There was already a clean tooth brush next to the sink. He brushed his teeth mechanically. After spitting out water, he caught his own reflection on the mirror.

He found an old, worn out face staring right back at him. Underneath the messy silver hair, there were lines of age and stress and rough stubble along his jaw. Not to mention the blood shot eyes and heavy bags underneath them. It was not a pleasant sight. He was no longer who he was in his younger years, no longer someone who could fit classic description of beauty and attractiveness.

Yet, Mycroft wanted him. The man could have anyone. Despite what Sherlock called him on a daily basis, he wasn't a fool, and he could clearly see that. But he'd chosen him – an old copper with a scarred body and a face even he wanted to avoid looking at for an extended period of time.

Then again, these things were rarely just about sexual gratification. They were about power and authority, about bending others to your will, and what you could make them do.

He lowered his head and laughed. He could almost hear David whispering maliciously into his ear that for a whore he was certainly smart.

TBC