Mating Urges-Knot warningkishukuficAugust 30 2011, 20:00:57 UTC
It was love at first scent.
Before Sherlock ever saw John Watson he smelled him, smelled his scent over the disinfectant and the formaldehyde of the morgue, smelled him and knew him for what he was.
His.
Omega males were a rarity and most of them took meds to suppress their cycles and their scent just like the females until they were bonded, although omega females were just as rare. It was safer to be a beta than it was to be an omega, omegas off their meds and in heat would do anything or anyone unless they were bonded. Once properly bonded the scent of the omega’s alpha would dominate and to others the omega would begin to smell like an alpha.
John Watson, despite his meds and the cheap cologne, was an omega male. And he was unbonded.
He’d done well to mask his nature. He was well-educated with a potentially high paying profession. He had served military time in Afghanistan and knew how to handle himself in a fight, presumably he also firearm skills from the scent of gun oil. He’d seen some action, the limp and stiffly held shoulder spoke of old war wounds.
Sherlock knew he had to find a way to be alone with John.
It was fate that had brought John to Sherlock looking for a flat to rent.
~~
“I want you to take the case.”
“No, much too busy. Lestrade’s incompetence requires my undivided attention and don’t even mention the other idiots he surrounds himself with.” Sherlock tossed back the remains of his espresso, “And I have an appointment.”
“To meet the latest sucker you plan to victimize into sharing living space with you?” Mycroft arched a brow at his younger sibling, “How concentrated was that espresso?”
“Essence of coffee, I had them run it through the espresso machine at least 6 times.” Sherlock waved the waitress over for the bill.
Mycroft grimaced. “Perhaps I should speak with DI Lestrade about him monopolizing your time,” he threatened.
Re: Mating Urges-Knot warningkishukuficAugust 30 2011, 20:01:44 UTC
~~
The apartment was easy enough to find and the landlady Mrs. Hudson let him into the flat to wait for Sherlock Holmes.
John had his misgivings about moving in with an alpha, but the likelihood of find another omega to share a flat with on his budget was slim to none. He’d decided to try and find another place to stay but had come up empty, he told himself he’d at least see the flat at Baker Street. If he was careful about his scent and his medication he rationalized that living with an alpha wouldn’t be so dangerous. John had managed to keep his omega nature a secret while in the army surrounded by other alphas, Sherlock shouldn’t be anymore challenging. Besides, the man seemed to keep irregular hours and John had yet to get a job, perhaps their schedules would conflict.
John took a breath and gave himself a quick shake, he was getting ahead of himself and Sherlock hadn’t even come back to the flat-the very cluttered flat.
A closing door and the sound of feet racing up the steps two at a time announced Sherlock’s arrival. He froze in the doorway, staring at John standing in the middle of the living room. John felt the hairs along his arms stand up, there was something very predatory in the other man’s eyes.
“I see Mrs. Hudson got my phone call to let you up. My apologies for my tardiness,” Sherlock seemed to shake himself-much like how John had done just prior to his appearance-and shut the door behind him. “There’s the kitchen, bathroom and another room upstairs if you need your own personal space.” he said in a rush.
Then suddenly he in John’s personal space, much too close for comfort.
“Maybe it’s not such a good idea for you to move in,” Sherlock whispered and he took a deep breath.
That was when John knew his cover was blown.
~~
DI Lestrade was the last person to leave his office that evening. Again. He stood inside the tube station listening to the list of lines which were malfunctioning and closed and sighed. Lestrade trudged back up the stairs of the station and began scouring the dark streets of London for a cab. After a few minutes one finally pulled up to the curb.
Only it already had an occupant.
“Detective Lestrade, if I might offer my humble services?” the man inside said as the door was opened.
Suddenly a pair of heavy hands shoved the detective stumbling into the cab, the vehicle began moving and Lestrade was rocked back into the seat across from the man as the door closed. “Who are you? Where are you taking me?”
“I believe you’ve met my brother, Sherlock. You use his services as a consulting detective I believe.” The man steepled his fingers over the handle of an umbrella and regarded Lestrade with the same piercing eyes Sherlock often turned to his cases. He smelled like an alpha, reeked of it, actually.
“Yes. My apologies, Mr. Holmes, I hadn’t realized Sherlock had any family.” Lestrade kept one eye on the strange man and the other on the scenery whipping by outside the cab window.
“I know, my brother prefers to exist in a very singular fashion. He tells me very little about his associations so I’m afraid I must conduct my own investigations. It infuriates him to no end, but it amuses me. Some would call it a sibling rivalry,” the stranger’s eyes followed Lestrade’s every move, there was something predatory in the gaze.
“It must have been difficult for your mother raising two alphas,” Lestrade tried in his own feeble way to garner more information from an untapped source. “What did you want to talk to me about? Is it about Sherlock?”
“I did have some things to discuss with you, but I’ve changed my mind. You seem like a very reasonable individual and I’d like to gather some more information before continuing our discussion.” The car eased to a stop, “I believe we’re here.”
A few blocks back Lestrade had begun to recognize the shops and stores of his neighborhood. He watched the stranger warily as the driver came around to open the door, “Should I just continue to call you Mr Holmes?”
Re: Mating Urges-Knot warningkishukuficAugust 30 2011, 20:02:56 UTC
Mycroft switched sides, taking the seat besides the one the detective had just vacated. The interior of the cab was still filled with the beta’s scent, he pulled a glove off and ran the tips of his fingers over Lestrade’s seat, the latent heat left behind by his body tickling up into Mycroft’s fingertips. He needed more data.
He pulled his mobile from his jacket, “Pull up all information on DI Lestrade and all CCTV footage from the last month. I expect it to be waiting for me when I get back to the office. I have one last stop to make.”
He instructed the driver to wait just at the end of Baker Street and then rolled down his window just enough so that the street noises infiltrated the interior. He waved the driver into motion at the sound of slamming door and pelting footsteps.
“Stop.”
And John Watson bolted into the cab.
“Driver- Oh, I’m terribly sorry!”
Mycroft’s hand shot out, grabbed the collar of Watson’s tattered coat and yanked him inside. The door clipped shut as the cab speed up into traffic.
“Dr. Watson, a word with you, if I may?” Mycroft dusted his hands off, he despised having to do anything remotely physical. “I was wondering as to the nature of your relationship with Sherlock Holmes.”
“Relationship?” Mycroft could tell the man was flustered. He smelled of hormones and adrenaline. He was also an omega. Intriguing. “I only just met him yesterday. Are you a friend of his?”
Mycroft laughed softly, “Sherlock Holmes does not have friends. He only has enemies and I suppose he would say that I was his arch-enemy.” He paused to tell the driver to go back around the block and saw the suspicion in the doctor’s eyes deepen. “Most people don’t voluntarily choose to associate with Sherlock, I believe he’s been called a psychopath on more than one occasion, I wonder if knowing that if you will continue your association with him.”
The muscle along John’s jaw rippled in anger, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“I’m afraid I’m stating the obvious when I ask you this. You do realize Sherlock is an alpha? And a socially unstable one at that. What would it take for you to walk away from this? Money? I would let you name your price,” Mycroft hinted at the dangers an unbonded omega might face with an alpha who didn’t have any moral or social boundaries.
John refused to rise to the bait.
“Interesting. Your therapist says that you suffer from trust issues but you seem to trust Sherlock despite your natures. Ah, here we are,” Mycroft’s driver opened the door and John tried not to bolt at the chase of escape. His leg nearly folded underneath him, his grip on the door the only thing keeping him upright, when he realized he’d left his walking cane in the apartment at 221B Baker Street.
Mycroft held out his umbrella, “Allow me to offer you a prediction and diagnosis. You will move in with Sherlock Holmes, despite all warnings to the contrary, because you thrive on danger. Your hand trembles because you miss the danger, not because you’re afraid of it. You should fire your therapist.” He inclined his head, “Good evening, Dr. Watson.”
“Good-bye,” John replied, his eyes still hard with suspicion.
Re: Mating Urges-Knot warningkishukuficAugust 30 2011, 20:04:43 UTC
~~
It was a mistake to invite John to the flat before him. John standing in the midst of Sherlock’s territory, his scent in the midst of Sherlock’s, drove his alpha to the forefront of his brain. It took all of his self control not to push John to floor of the living room and mount him right there and then. It was no wonder any omega went to great lengths to hide their nature or seek a protective alpha.
The later of which John Watson did not need.
After Sherlock’s warning John had bolted from the apartment like a rabbit scenting a fox, Sherlock now lay on the couch wondering if he would ever see the man again. Or if he should put his considerable skills to hunting him down, he knew he could hunt Watson down, he chased perpetrators with the police. He wanted to. Oh, how badly he wanted him.
Sherlock’s attention was seized by the sound of a car door-London cab-closing outside the flat and a limping walk making its way up the stairs. He lunged upright, it was John! Then he lay back down in feigned disinterest.
The door opened and closed, the footsteps stopped at the end of the couch. John’s scent was so close and something else.
“I left something. I just…”
Sherlock was off the couch in a flash, the tell-tale umbrella clattering to the floor as he pressed John back against the door. “Mycroft!” The something else had been his brother’s scent, how could he have been so distracted to have missed it? John smelled faintly of the interior of a London cab and his brother, Mycroft. Sherlock felt the alpha within him rising, the possessive rage a hot rush traveling up along his skin, he fought it down with an effort.
“Your friend?” John asked somewhat breathlessly, Sherlock’s fists in his collar choking him. He shoved the alpha and Sherlock dropped him in surprise, John leaning against the wall beside the door to catch his breath.
“Friend?”
“Or enemy?” John straightened up and cast about the room for his walking cane.
“My brother. What did he want with you? Did he do anything to you?” Sherlock tried to lean in closer for a better smell. John shot him a warning glare and stepped away.
“He wanted to offer me money to step away from you. He seems to think you’re dangerous,” then John was pushing Sherlock back, “are you? Should I worry?”
Lust hit Sherlock in the gut like a punch and he felt the hairs along his arms stand up on end. “Yes,” he whispered, “yes, John, if you don’t want this you should worry.”
~~
Mycroft realized he’d begun to growl at the screen of his computer while reading the reports his assistant had sent him.
G. Lestrade.
A graduate from the University of Edinburgh he’d risen through the police ranks with a sheer bulldog like tenacity. He was also married to a Cynthia Thompson and together they had a young daughter, age 4. That was when the growling had begun.
“I need files and video on Cynthia Thompson, that’s Thompson with a ‘P’ and an ‘H’.” Mycroft ordered. Was Lestrade already bonded? One could never tell with betas, if they were bonded to another beta they wouldn’t share each other’s scent the way a bonded omega would start to smell like their alpha. Inside the cab Lestrade had smelled like the office, his subordinates, cheap greasy fast food, and stale coffee. Mycroft hadn’t even been able to scent anything about a wife and child, no lingering perfume or sticky sweets.
He started in on the CCTV videos to see what his rival looked like.
Re: Mating Urges-Knot warningkishukuficAugust 30 2011, 20:05:51 UTC
~~
John was startled to realize that the stranger had dropped him off directly in front of 221B Baker Street, the man was perceptive. He’d only hesitated a few seconds before stomping up the stairs, determined to stand his ground with the alpha upstairs, even if he knew what John was.
Then they were pushing at each other like a pair of alphas fighting for territory and when Sherlock let John push him, John realized he wanted this. He wanted to finally find an alpha he could admire and one he trusted. His mother had always told him that when he found his bonded he would know and not to fight it. His sister had fought it, was still fighting it and turned to alcohol to try and fight against her instinct.
“I’m not worried. You don’t scare me, Sherlock.” John told him as he brought his face down for a kiss.
Sherlock growled as he allowed John to pull him down for a kiss that started closed mouth and chaste, but with an impatient groan Sherlock’s lips pried John’s mouth open and his tongue slipped inside for his first taste of his omega. If John had smelled good, he tasted even better, he released John’s mouth to trail his lips and his tongue over the other man’s throat, licking, tasting and nipping along the way.
“Have you,” Sherlock growled angrily at the thought, “have you ever been with an alpha before?”
“No,” John gasped as Sherlock bit down particularly hard on his collar bone, hands fumbling with his shirt, fingertips eagerly seeking out bare skin. “But I know,” he swallowed heavily, “I know about the knotting with bonded pairs.”
Sherlock stopped, his eyes blazing, “So you know.” John knew they were destined to be a bonded pair. He wasn’t the only one to have felt it.
“Yes.”
Sherlock yanked open John’s belt and shoved him back towards the couch, a red hazy desire overtaking him to mark John with his scent while John writhed on his knot and came. He slid his hands down into John’s trousers and grabbed his ass and rutted against him a few times, gasping as his thick cock rubbed up against John’s, the thick low burn in the base of his cock already there in the place where he’d knot up. Sherlock knew he couldn’t wait, if he knotted before getting inside John his knot would be too large, too painful, to force into his partner then.
“John, I need it.” He felt the head on his shoulder nod faintly and slid one finger back into John’s crack.
He was wet. He must’ve been close to going into heat to be this wet after sharing a few kisses with an alpha, his nature negating the meds in his system. Sherlock moaned a little in relief, the knowledge that he wouldn’t be hurting John, because he wanted to do this very very soon and many times more. He slid one finger, John’s anus spasmed around the digit as though it wanted to pull him further inside and then John was crying out and shivering in his arms. Sherlock smiled, pleased with him.
“Come harder,” he whispered as he worked the finger back and forth, finger fucking the wet hole and then slipping in a second finger as he felt the tremors continue to wrack John’s body. He held the omega until he stopped shaking and his breathes slowed down, then he pushed John’s trousers off and pulled his own shirt over his head while John mimicked him. John perched on the edge of his couch, completely naked, stomach covered in his own cum still smelling like himself.
Sherlock growled and undid his trousers, pulling his aching cock free, the fat swollen head shiny with precum. “I’m going to mark you, going to make you reek of me, going to stuff you full of my knot, fill you with my seed. Breed you.”
John shuddered and raised his legs to reveal the wet glistening hole beneath his balls, it looked impossibly small, but Sherlock knew he had to get inside there. John made a soft desperate noise when Sherlock didn’t move fast enough, the alpha leaning forward instantly to drop concerned little kisses all over his face. Sherlock grasped John’s hip with one hand and used his other hand to guide himself to John.
Re: Mating Urges-Knot warningkishukuficAugust 30 2011, 20:06:09 UTC
Sherlock began pushing, John opening up easily around him, shiny rim and stretching around Sherlock’s length. John’s breathing sped up again and Sherlock released his hip to grasp John’s erection and stroked, “It’s all right. I’m halfway there.” On the next stroke he pushed and his hips kissed the back of John’s thighs, reaching that balls deep depth in his partner.
It was mindblowingly good. Sherlock’s body shuddered as John’s ass griped him, warm and wet, around the most sensitive part of his body. He moved both hands back to John’s hips, pulled out until nothing but the head of his cock was inside, then he thrust his length back inside. He managed a few hard thrusts before he felt the rim of John’s anus catch on the flaring edge of his knot which was swelling. He pushed back inside with a groan and felt John come again, shuddering and clenching around the burn at the base of his cock as he began to knot, throbbing, growing larger, tying them together. Sherlock pumped small circling thrusts into the tight grip and then stopped when his knot reached its full size and he came. John’s body drew it from him in slow spiraling pulses.
It would take him a good ten to twenty minutes to finish, small orgasms hitting him every few minutes, pumping large wet loads deep into his omega’s body.
His.
The first knotting would start the bond, but it would take a few days of knotting to strengthen the bond and mark John permanently with his alpha’s scent. Sherlock nuzzled at John’s face, a soft blessed expression on his partner’s face. John turned in towards Sherlock for more kisses, which Sherlock obliged, releasing one of John’s hips to grasp his erection and bring a small stuttering orgasm from the man. Sherlock felt the orgasm ripple through his partner, his body following quickly with another that left them both shuddering.
He idly wondered how many times he could make John come while they were tied.
Re: Mating Urges-Knot warningkishukuficAugust 30 2011, 20:08:12 UTC
~~
The next morning was a little strange for Lestrade. To say the least. His coffee order had been ready and paid for at his usual pastry shop just down the street from the police station and hadn’t had to wait at any intersection on the walk to the station. The IT department had finally gotten around to fixing his computer and it didn’t take its usual 20 minutes to start up. The break room had been cleaned and restocked with new coffee and biscuits and so many forensic reports had finally come in on waiting cases that he finished more work that morning than he usually did in a week.
Lestrade pushed back from his desk with a sigh of satisfaction.
“Detective Lestrade?” a young man asked from the entrance of the office.
“Yes?” Lestrade stood up, thinking this is was when his day would go south.
“Delivery for you, sir. Lunch from the Ritz: Roasted Peking duck with mandarin sauce, bruised cucumber tomato salad, and a side of Thai-style tamarind rice.” The delivery guy hesitated, not finding an open space on Lestrade’s cluttered desk. The usual noise and din of the office had died down as people began noticing the curious incident occurring at Lestrade’s desk.
“Um. I’m terribly sorry, but I didn’t order-”
“Detective G. Lestrade? To be delivered promptly at 1 pm, no sooner, no later.”
“Well, I can’t pay-“ Lestrade tried again, not wanting to potentially shovel out a week’s worth of grocery money for a single meal.
“Already paid for, sir. I just need you to sign that I delivered it,” the guy held out a slip with a large X at the bottom.
Lestrade signed it, took the fancy bag proclaiming its origins and stared after the guy in shock. Since when did the Ritz begin making deliveries? He was distracted by his stomach grumbling, demanding to be fed the delicious smelling meal dangling from his hand.
“Looks like Lestrade’s got himself an admirer!” Sergeant Donovan quipped as she and some other colleagues gathered around his desk to check out his lunch. “If you’re worried that it’s poisoned I’d gladly taste test it for you, sir.”
Lestrade laughed, “You know I love Chinese food. Find your own meal, Sally!” It smelled amazing and he decided that after his morning of work he deserved a little time outside of the office, so he took his meal with him out to the nearby park.
The food tasted just as good as it sounded.
After finishing, Lestrade stretched his legs out in front of him to enjoy the weak cold sunshine that England had to offer. Today had possible been one of the better days he’d had in a long time.
“Mind if I join you?” a voice interrupted his drifting thoughts.
Lestrade started, he hadn’t heard the alpha approaching him and he had done it downwind to mask his scent. “Have a seat, Mr. Holmes.”
“I’d rather you called me Mycroft,” he said as he took the space on the bench beside the detective, setting his omni-presnet umbrella off to the side. “Have you enjoyed your day?”
Lestrade straightened up slightly, “Why don’t you tell me what you really want?”
“Oh, my apologies, detective. I was under the assumption that asking after someone’s day was a polite social convention.”
“You’re related to Sherlock,” Lestrade offered as way of explanation.
Mycroft smiled, “Very well. Who is Cynthia Thompson?”
Lestrade blinked, confused. “My ex-wife?”
“Oh? But I did not see any official divorce papers.”
Lestrade shrugged, “It’s easier to call her my ex than to explain that she ran off to Canada with our daughter before a divorce could even be finalized. Her father’s a diplomat and I can’t even afford the lawyers to get past his lawyers to serve her with a divorce.”
“Most distressing I suppose,” Mycroft made some sort of note on his mobile.
Re: Mating Urges-Knot warningkishukuficAugust 30 2011, 20:08:30 UTC
“What are you investigating? How does it involve Cynthia?” Lestrade wanted to know.
“It only involves her because it involves you,” Mycroft tucked the mobile back into his jacket pocket. “Was she a beta, like you?”
Lestrade felt a faint tickle of annoyance, he didn’t like to divide people by pack type, but it was often unavoidable. “No, she was an alpha.”
“You bred with an alpha? Were you bonded?”
“Yes and no,” Lestrade considered the situation for a moment. “You’re asking me this because bonded pairs aren’t kept on record, correct? Nor are pack types kept on file because of discrimination law suits. Why is it so important to know about Cynthia’s bonded status?”
Mycroft ignore him, “Why did you breed with an alpha you weren’t bonded with?”
“She was an alpha and I thought I was in love with her.” It had been more than 4 years ago and the wounds were old, Lestrade wouldn’t say that they were healed but he spoke about his old family with a certain detached numbness. His daughter he had never met, didn’t even know her scent, only knew that her name was Jillian.
“Well, this has been fun but I do need to get back to the office.” Lestrade dumped his lunch containers in a park bin, “And although I’ve appreciated the gestures, please stop ordering my coffee and meals.”
“So you noticed,” Mycroft said sarcastically but privately was very pleased.
Lestrade laughed, “Only an imbecile would fail to notice. And although I am no Sherlock Holmes-and he reminds me of it often-I am still a detective. I hope I have satisfied your curiosities. Good day, Mycroft.”
Re: Mating Urges-Knot warningkishukuficAugust 31 2011, 00:52:24 UTC
My only problem is that Sherlock and John want nothing more than to be a pair of porn bunnies, meanwhile Mycroft and Lestrade have yet to get together!
Before Sherlock ever saw John Watson he smelled him, smelled his scent over the disinfectant and the formaldehyde of the morgue, smelled him and knew him for what he was.
His.
Omega males were a rarity and most of them took meds to suppress their cycles and their scent just like the females until they were bonded, although omega females were just as rare. It was safer to be a beta than it was to be an omega, omegas off their meds and in heat would do anything or anyone unless they were bonded. Once properly bonded the scent of the omega’s alpha would dominate and to others the omega would begin to smell like an alpha.
John Watson, despite his meds and the cheap cologne, was an omega male. And he was unbonded.
He’d done well to mask his nature. He was well-educated with a potentially high paying profession. He had served military time in Afghanistan and knew how to handle himself in a fight, presumably he also firearm skills from the scent of gun oil. He’d seen some action, the limp and stiffly held shoulder spoke of old war wounds.
Sherlock knew he had to find a way to be alone with John.
It was fate that had brought John to Sherlock looking for a flat to rent.
~~
“I want you to take the case.”
“No, much too busy. Lestrade’s incompetence requires my undivided attention and don’t even mention the other idiots he surrounds himself with.” Sherlock tossed back the remains of his espresso, “And I have an appointment.”
“To meet the latest sucker you plan to victimize into sharing living space with you?” Mycroft arched a brow at his younger sibling, “How concentrated was that espresso?”
“Essence of coffee, I had them run it through the espresso machine at least 6 times.” Sherlock waved the waitress over for the bill.
Mycroft grimaced. “Perhaps I should speak with DI Lestrade about him monopolizing your time,” he threatened.
“Do what you like. You always do.”
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The apartment was easy enough to find and the landlady Mrs. Hudson let him into the flat to wait for Sherlock Holmes.
John had his misgivings about moving in with an alpha, but the likelihood of find another omega to share a flat with on his budget was slim to none. He’d decided to try and find another place to stay but had come up empty, he told himself he’d at least see the flat at Baker Street. If he was careful about his scent and his medication he rationalized that living with an alpha wouldn’t be so dangerous. John had managed to keep his omega nature a secret while in the army surrounded by other alphas, Sherlock shouldn’t be anymore challenging. Besides, the man seemed to keep irregular hours and John had yet to get a job, perhaps their schedules would conflict.
John took a breath and gave himself a quick shake, he was getting ahead of himself and Sherlock hadn’t even come back to the flat-the very cluttered flat.
A closing door and the sound of feet racing up the steps two at a time announced Sherlock’s arrival. He froze in the doorway, staring at John standing in the middle of the living room. John felt the hairs along his arms stand up, there was something very predatory in the other man’s eyes.
“I see Mrs. Hudson got my phone call to let you up. My apologies for my tardiness,” Sherlock seemed to shake himself-much like how John had done just prior to his appearance-and shut the door behind him. “There’s the kitchen, bathroom and another room upstairs if you need your own personal space.” he said in a rush.
Then suddenly he in John’s personal space, much too close for comfort.
“Maybe it’s not such a good idea for you to move in,” Sherlock whispered and he took a deep breath.
That was when John knew his cover was blown.
~~
DI Lestrade was the last person to leave his office that evening. Again. He stood inside the tube station listening to the list of lines which were malfunctioning and closed and sighed. Lestrade trudged back up the stairs of the station and began scouring the dark streets of London for a cab. After a few minutes one finally pulled up to the curb.
Only it already had an occupant.
“Detective Lestrade, if I might offer my humble services?” the man inside said as the door was opened.
Suddenly a pair of heavy hands shoved the detective stumbling into the cab, the vehicle began moving and Lestrade was rocked back into the seat across from the man as the door closed. “Who are you? Where are you taking me?”
“I believe you’ve met my brother, Sherlock. You use his services as a consulting detective I believe.” The man steepled his fingers over the handle of an umbrella and regarded Lestrade with the same piercing eyes Sherlock often turned to his cases. He smelled like an alpha, reeked of it, actually.
“Yes. My apologies, Mr. Holmes, I hadn’t realized Sherlock had any family.” Lestrade kept one eye on the strange man and the other on the scenery whipping by outside the cab window.
“I know, my brother prefers to exist in a very singular fashion. He tells me very little about his associations so I’m afraid I must conduct my own investigations. It infuriates him to no end, but it amuses me. Some would call it a sibling rivalry,” the stranger’s eyes followed Lestrade’s every move, there was something predatory in the gaze.
“It must have been difficult for your mother raising two alphas,” Lestrade tried in his own feeble way to garner more information from an untapped source. “What did you want to talk to me about? Is it about Sherlock?”
“I did have some things to discuss with you, but I’ve changed my mind. You seem like a very reasonable individual and I’d like to gather some more information before continuing our discussion.” The car eased to a stop, “I believe we’re here.”
A few blocks back Lestrade had begun to recognize the shops and stores of his neighborhood. He watched the stranger warily as the driver came around to open the door, “Should I just continue to call you Mr Holmes?”
The man smiled, “Mycroft.”
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He pulled his mobile from his jacket, “Pull up all information on DI Lestrade and all CCTV footage from the last month. I expect it to be waiting for me when I get back to the office. I have one last stop to make.”
He instructed the driver to wait just at the end of Baker Street and then rolled down his window just enough so that the street noises infiltrated the interior. He waved the driver into motion at the sound of slamming door and pelting footsteps.
“Stop.”
And John Watson bolted into the cab.
“Driver- Oh, I’m terribly sorry!”
Mycroft’s hand shot out, grabbed the collar of Watson’s tattered coat and yanked him inside. The door clipped shut as the cab speed up into traffic.
“Dr. Watson, a word with you, if I may?” Mycroft dusted his hands off, he despised having to do anything remotely physical. “I was wondering as to the nature of your relationship with Sherlock Holmes.”
“Relationship?” Mycroft could tell the man was flustered. He smelled of hormones and adrenaline. He was also an omega. Intriguing. “I only just met him yesterday. Are you a friend of his?”
Mycroft laughed softly, “Sherlock Holmes does not have friends. He only has enemies and I suppose he would say that I was his arch-enemy.” He paused to tell the driver to go back around the block and saw the suspicion in the doctor’s eyes deepen. “Most people don’t voluntarily choose to associate with Sherlock, I believe he’s been called a psychopath on more than one occasion, I wonder if knowing that if you will continue your association with him.”
The muscle along John’s jaw rippled in anger, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“I’m afraid I’m stating the obvious when I ask you this. You do realize Sherlock is an alpha? And a socially unstable one at that. What would it take for you to walk away from this? Money? I would let you name your price,” Mycroft hinted at the dangers an unbonded omega might face with an alpha who didn’t have any moral or social boundaries.
John refused to rise to the bait.
“Interesting. Your therapist says that you suffer from trust issues but you seem to trust Sherlock despite your natures. Ah, here we are,” Mycroft’s driver opened the door and John tried not to bolt at the chase of escape. His leg nearly folded underneath him, his grip on the door the only thing keeping him upright, when he realized he’d left his walking cane in the apartment at 221B Baker Street.
Mycroft held out his umbrella, “Allow me to offer you a prediction and diagnosis. You will move in with Sherlock Holmes, despite all warnings to the contrary, because you thrive on danger. Your hand trembles because you miss the danger, not because you’re afraid of it. You should fire your therapist.” He inclined his head, “Good evening, Dr. Watson.”
“Good-bye,” John replied, his eyes still hard with suspicion.
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~~
It was a mistake to invite John to the flat before him. John standing in the midst of Sherlock’s territory, his scent in the midst of Sherlock’s, drove his alpha to the forefront of his brain. It took all of his self control not to push John to floor of the living room and mount him right there and then. It was no wonder any omega went to great lengths to hide their nature or seek a protective alpha.
The later of which John Watson did not need.
After Sherlock’s warning John had bolted from the apartment like a rabbit scenting a fox, Sherlock now lay on the couch wondering if he would ever see the man again. Or if he should put his considerable skills to hunting him down, he knew he could hunt Watson down, he chased perpetrators with the police. He wanted to. Oh, how badly he wanted him.
Sherlock’s attention was seized by the sound of a car door-London cab-closing outside the flat and a limping walk making its way up the stairs. He lunged upright, it was John! Then he lay back down in feigned disinterest.
The door opened and closed, the footsteps stopped at the end of the couch. John’s scent was so close and something else.
“I left something. I just…”
Sherlock was off the couch in a flash, the tell-tale umbrella clattering to the floor as he pressed John back against the door. “Mycroft!” The something else had been his brother’s scent, how could he have been so distracted to have missed it? John smelled faintly of the interior of a London cab and his brother, Mycroft. Sherlock felt the alpha within him rising, the possessive rage a hot rush traveling up along his skin, he fought it down with an effort.
“Your friend?” John asked somewhat breathlessly, Sherlock’s fists in his collar choking him. He shoved the alpha and Sherlock dropped him in surprise, John leaning against the wall beside the door to catch his breath.
“Friend?”
“Or enemy?” John straightened up and cast about the room for his walking cane.
“My brother. What did he want with you? Did he do anything to you?” Sherlock tried to lean in closer for a better smell. John shot him a warning glare and stepped away.
“He wanted to offer me money to step away from you. He seems to think you’re dangerous,” then John was pushing Sherlock back, “are you? Should I worry?”
Lust hit Sherlock in the gut like a punch and he felt the hairs along his arms stand up on end. “Yes,” he whispered, “yes, John, if you don’t want this you should worry.”
~~
Mycroft realized he’d begun to growl at the screen of his computer while reading the reports his assistant had sent him.
G. Lestrade.
A graduate from the University of Edinburgh he’d risen through the police ranks with a sheer bulldog like tenacity. He was also married to a Cynthia Thompson and together they had a young daughter, age 4. That was when the growling had begun.
“I need files and video on Cynthia Thompson, that’s Thompson with a ‘P’ and an ‘H’.” Mycroft ordered. Was Lestrade already bonded? One could never tell with betas, if they were bonded to another beta they wouldn’t share each other’s scent the way a bonded omega would start to smell like their alpha. Inside the cab Lestrade had smelled like the office, his subordinates, cheap greasy fast food, and stale coffee. Mycroft hadn’t even been able to scent anything about a wife and child, no lingering perfume or sticky sweets.
He started in on the CCTV videos to see what his rival looked like.
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John was startled to realize that the stranger had dropped him off directly in front of 221B Baker Street, the man was perceptive. He’d only hesitated a few seconds before stomping up the stairs, determined to stand his ground with the alpha upstairs, even if he knew what John was.
Then they were pushing at each other like a pair of alphas fighting for territory and when Sherlock let John push him, John realized he wanted this. He wanted to finally find an alpha he could admire and one he trusted. His mother had always told him that when he found his bonded he would know and not to fight it. His sister had fought it, was still fighting it and turned to alcohol to try and fight against her instinct.
“I’m not worried. You don’t scare me, Sherlock.” John told him as he brought his face down for a kiss.
Sherlock growled as he allowed John to pull him down for a kiss that started closed mouth and chaste, but with an impatient groan Sherlock’s lips pried John’s mouth open and his tongue slipped inside for his first taste of his omega. If John had smelled good, he tasted even better, he released John’s mouth to trail his lips and his tongue over the other man’s throat, licking, tasting and nipping along the way.
“Have you,” Sherlock growled angrily at the thought, “have you ever been with an alpha before?”
“No,” John gasped as Sherlock bit down particularly hard on his collar bone, hands fumbling with his shirt, fingertips eagerly seeking out bare skin. “But I know,” he swallowed heavily, “I know about the knotting with bonded pairs.”
Sherlock stopped, his eyes blazing, “So you know.” John knew they were destined to be a bonded pair. He wasn’t the only one to have felt it.
“Yes.”
Sherlock yanked open John’s belt and shoved him back towards the couch, a red hazy desire overtaking him to mark John with his scent while John writhed on his knot and came. He slid his hands down into John’s trousers and grabbed his ass and rutted against him a few times, gasping as his thick cock rubbed up against John’s, the thick low burn in the base of his cock already there in the place where he’d knot up. Sherlock knew he couldn’t wait, if he knotted before getting inside John his knot would be too large, too painful, to force into his partner then.
“John, I need it.” He felt the head on his shoulder nod faintly and slid one finger back into John’s crack.
He was wet. He must’ve been close to going into heat to be this wet after sharing a few kisses with an alpha, his nature negating the meds in his system. Sherlock moaned a little in relief, the knowledge that he wouldn’t be hurting John, because he wanted to do this very very soon and many times more. He slid one finger, John’s anus spasmed around the digit as though it wanted to pull him further inside and then John was crying out and shivering in his arms. Sherlock smiled, pleased with him.
“Come harder,” he whispered as he worked the finger back and forth, finger fucking the wet hole and then slipping in a second finger as he felt the tremors continue to wrack John’s body. He held the omega until he stopped shaking and his breathes slowed down, then he pushed John’s trousers off and pulled his own shirt over his head while John mimicked him. John perched on the edge of his couch, completely naked, stomach covered in his own cum still smelling like himself.
Sherlock growled and undid his trousers, pulling his aching cock free, the fat swollen head shiny with precum. “I’m going to mark you, going to make you reek of me, going to stuff you full of my knot, fill you with my seed. Breed you.”
John shuddered and raised his legs to reveal the wet glistening hole beneath his balls, it looked impossibly small, but Sherlock knew he had to get inside there. John made a soft desperate noise when Sherlock didn’t move fast enough, the alpha leaning forward instantly to drop concerned little kisses all over his face. Sherlock grasped John’s hip with one hand and used his other hand to guide himself to John.
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Sherlock began pushing, John opening up easily around him, shiny rim and stretching around Sherlock’s length. John’s breathing sped up again and Sherlock released his hip to grasp John’s erection and stroked, “It’s all right. I’m halfway there.” On the next stroke he pushed and his hips kissed the back of John’s thighs, reaching that balls deep depth in his partner.
It was mindblowingly good. Sherlock’s body shuddered as John’s ass griped him, warm and wet, around the most sensitive part of his body. He moved both hands back to John’s hips, pulled out until nothing but the head of his cock was inside, then he thrust his length back inside. He managed a few hard thrusts before he felt the rim of John’s anus catch on the flaring edge of his knot which was swelling. He pushed back inside with a groan and felt John come again, shuddering and clenching around the burn at the base of his cock as he began to knot, throbbing, growing larger, tying them together. Sherlock pumped small circling thrusts into the tight grip and then stopped when his knot reached its full size and he came. John’s body drew it from him in slow spiraling pulses.
It would take him a good ten to twenty minutes to finish, small orgasms hitting him every few minutes, pumping large wet loads deep into his omega’s body.
His.
The first knotting would start the bond, but it would take a few days of knotting to strengthen the bond and mark John permanently with his alpha’s scent. Sherlock nuzzled at John’s face, a soft blessed expression on his partner’s face. John turned in towards Sherlock for more kisses, which Sherlock obliged, releasing one of John’s hips to grasp his erection and bring a small stuttering orgasm from the man. Sherlock felt the orgasm ripple through his partner, his body following quickly with another that left them both shuddering.
He idly wondered how many times he could make John come while they were tied.
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The next morning was a little strange for Lestrade. To say the least. His coffee order had been ready and paid for at his usual pastry shop just down the street from the police station and hadn’t had to wait at any intersection on the walk to the station. The IT department had finally gotten around to fixing his computer and it didn’t take its usual 20 minutes to start up. The break room had been cleaned and restocked with new coffee and biscuits and so many forensic reports had finally come in on waiting cases that he finished more work that morning than he usually did in a week.
Lestrade pushed back from his desk with a sigh of satisfaction.
“Detective Lestrade?” a young man asked from the entrance of the office.
“Yes?” Lestrade stood up, thinking this is was when his day would go south.
“Delivery for you, sir. Lunch from the Ritz: Roasted Peking duck with mandarin sauce, bruised cucumber tomato salad, and a side of Thai-style tamarind rice.” The delivery guy hesitated, not finding an open space on Lestrade’s cluttered desk. The usual noise and din of the office had died down as people began noticing the curious incident occurring at Lestrade’s desk.
“Um. I’m terribly sorry, but I didn’t order-”
“Detective G. Lestrade? To be delivered promptly at 1 pm, no sooner, no later.”
“Well, I can’t pay-“ Lestrade tried again, not wanting to potentially shovel out a week’s worth of grocery money for a single meal.
“Already paid for, sir. I just need you to sign that I delivered it,” the guy held out a slip with a large X at the bottom.
Lestrade signed it, took the fancy bag proclaiming its origins and stared after the guy in shock. Since when did the Ritz begin making deliveries? He was distracted by his stomach grumbling, demanding to be fed the delicious smelling meal dangling from his hand.
“Looks like Lestrade’s got himself an admirer!” Sergeant Donovan quipped as she and some other colleagues gathered around his desk to check out his lunch. “If you’re worried that it’s poisoned I’d gladly taste test it for you, sir.”
Lestrade laughed, “You know I love Chinese food. Find your own meal, Sally!” It smelled amazing and he decided that after his morning of work he deserved a little time outside of the office, so he took his meal with him out to the nearby park.
The food tasted just as good as it sounded.
After finishing, Lestrade stretched his legs out in front of him to enjoy the weak cold sunshine that England had to offer. Today had possible been one of the better days he’d had in a long time.
“Mind if I join you?” a voice interrupted his drifting thoughts.
Lestrade started, he hadn’t heard the alpha approaching him and he had done it downwind to mask his scent. “Have a seat, Mr. Holmes.”
“I’d rather you called me Mycroft,” he said as he took the space on the bench beside the detective, setting his omni-presnet umbrella off to the side. “Have you enjoyed your day?”
Lestrade straightened up slightly, “Why don’t you tell me what you really want?”
“Oh, my apologies, detective. I was under the assumption that asking after someone’s day was a polite social convention.”
“You’re related to Sherlock,” Lestrade offered as way of explanation.
Mycroft smiled, “Very well. Who is Cynthia Thompson?”
Lestrade blinked, confused. “My ex-wife?”
“Oh? But I did not see any official divorce papers.”
Lestrade shrugged, “It’s easier to call her my ex than to explain that she ran off to Canada with our daughter before a divorce could even be finalized. Her father’s a diplomat and I can’t even afford the lawyers to get past his lawyers to serve her with a divorce.”
“Most distressing I suppose,” Mycroft made some sort of note on his mobile.
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“It only involves her because it involves you,” Mycroft tucked the mobile back into his jacket pocket. “Was she a beta, like you?”
Lestrade felt a faint tickle of annoyance, he didn’t like to divide people by pack type, but it was often unavoidable. “No, she was an alpha.”
“You bred with an alpha? Were you bonded?”
“Yes and no,” Lestrade considered the situation for a moment. “You’re asking me this because bonded pairs aren’t kept on record, correct? Nor are pack types kept on file because of discrimination law suits. Why is it so important to know about Cynthia’s bonded status?”
Mycroft ignore him, “Why did you breed with an alpha you weren’t bonded with?”
“She was an alpha and I thought I was in love with her.” It had been more than 4 years ago and the wounds were old, Lestrade wouldn’t say that they were healed but he spoke about his old family with a certain detached numbness. His daughter he had never met, didn’t even know her scent, only knew that her name was Jillian.
“Well, this has been fun but I do need to get back to the office.” Lestrade dumped his lunch containers in a park bin, “And although I’ve appreciated the gestures, please stop ordering my coffee and meals.”
“So you noticed,” Mycroft said sarcastically but privately was very pleased.
Lestrade laughed, “Only an imbecile would fail to notice. And although I am no Sherlock Holmes-and he reminds me of it often-I am still a detective. I hope I have satisfied your curiosities. Good day, Mycroft.”
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In fact, Lestrade has yet to get a clue.
*sigh*
But I intend for there to be more.
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Urf. Sherlock bonding and breeding John. Mycroft stalking Lestrade. These are my kink.
I can't wait for more.
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Yes, there is more to come. Eventually. Someday.
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