Beneath The Silver Moon Part 11
Title: Beneath The Silver Moon
Characters: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~1,100
Warnings: Werewolves, aspects of the Omega/Alpha/Beta universe
Summary: After being bitten in Afghanistan, John was invalided home. Being a werewolf was new to him, and he wasn't interested in any of the help or orientation that the Centre had to offer, but even his wolf knew better than to enter territory that had been marked. Until his first outside change, when he met a strange alpha wolf that wanted John to follow it home into pack territory. John's initial refusal became a challenge for the curious alpha... one Sherlock Holmes.
This is for a prompt on the kink meme.
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When John first woke up, he thought that the voice of the older woman and the arms that had held him so strongly might have been dream. He discovered that they hadn’t been when he realized that the dressing robe he’d worn to bed was gone, leaving him naked, and that the mattress he’d been lying on was now covered in freshly washed sheets and blankets. The robe had been tossed precariously over a stack of books that looked like they were one good gust of wind from falling over. John picked it up carefully and tied it around his body as he ventured out to investigate.
Sherlock was gone. It was late, later than he’d thought, so that wasn’t entirely unexpected. He sat down on the same chair as before, noticing absently that the mug of tea he’d made for Sherlock was still untouched on the coffee table, and wondered what to do next. He remembered that there hadn’t been much food around when he’d been searching for tea; clearly, Sherlock was a fan of restaurants and takeaways. He patted his growling stomach absently, wondering if he should go out or if it would be better to wait for Sherlock to return. For that matter, where were his clothes?
The door edged open a moment later. John looked up. An older woman with greying hair stood in the doorway, holding a tray heaped high with biscuits, bacon sandwiches, and tea. She smiled broadly at John. “Hello, dear. Sherlock said you would be getting up now.”
John blinked, trying not to drool as a host of wonderful smells wafted across the room. “He did?”
“Yes. I’m not your housekeeper, mind, but I knew you’d be hungry and Sherlock doesn’t keep much food in the flat. He really needs to learn to take better care of his mate.” She clucked her tongue and sashayed into the kitchen.
“Mate? Hang on, I’m not his - ”
“D’you take milk or sugar in your tea, dear?”
“Milk, please - listen, I’m not, not his mate.” John stood up and followed, a frown tugging at his lips. “It’s not like that.”
She was smiling. “Of course, dear,” she said in a patronizing manner. “Now, I’m Mrs Hudson, your new landlady. It’s so nice to know that Sherlock will have company, finally. Sometimes I don’t see him for days on end and I do worry.” She bustled around, fetching him tea, putting some food on a plate, and ushering him into a chair at the table. “I try my best to take care of him, of course, but even someone much younger than me would have a hard time keeping up with Sherlock.”
In between bites of bacon and listening half-heartedly to what she was saying, John lifted his head. It was still odd to be able to sniff someone and know instantly what they were; it was like his brain had developed a very precise system of categorizing scents without his permission. Mrs Hudson, he realized, was a human, not a wolf. Her scent was faint but wholesome, kind of the way he would have imagined his mum would have smelled. He looked at her.
“You mentioned that Sherlock knew I’d be getting up at this time,” he said slowly, remembering how he and Sherlock had met. The crime scene and the body that gone along with it, not to mention the way Sherlock could look at someone and know - just everything. At the time he’d been too out of his mind with sexual frustration to really question it, but now he looked at her curiously. “Mrs Hudson, what exactly does Sherlock do for a living?”
“I couldn’t really say, dear,” she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand as she moved into the other room. John frowned, but before he had the chance to ask her anything else, she returned holding his freshly washed clothing. “Here you are. Sherlock said you'd have some things to do today."
"But how did he..." John glanced up to see that Mrs Hudson was already gone. For a human, she moved fast, he realized, sighing and turning his attention back to his breakfast. He ate a little more and then put the rest of the food away.
It didn't take him long to decide what he'd do. He was curious about Sherlock, curious enough that retrieving his laptop and the rest of his belongings so that he could research the man sounded like an excellent idea. He dressed quickly and left the flat, hailing a cab with little trouble and directing the cabbie to take him back to the outreach. It wasn't until he was climbing out of the cab that he realized he'd forgotten his cane, which was likely somewhere in Sherlock's flat - their flat, he reminded himself firmly. Then he shook his head in bemusement. Why had he agreed to share a flat with a man who he knew nothing about, aside from the fact that he was a fantastic fuck?
"Harry was right. That bite did mess with my mind," he muttered, moving up the steps and opening the door. Mary was stationed at the desk, as always, but she was chatting with a couple of people he hadn't seen before. One was a petite redhead with a sweet smile, the other a dark-haired man with a rather possessive grip on the redhead's hip.
"Oh, Dr Watson!" Mary said with a cheerful smile. "You're back."
"I've come to collect my things."
"You've found a place already!" Her smile grew as he approached and then she gasped. "Oh, you've found an alpha! How wonderful!"
John's cheeks flushed slightly. "It's not like that," he said for the third time that morning. He had the feeling he'd be saying it a lot from then on.
"This is Dr John Watson, that new wolf I was telling you about," Mary said, completely ignoring his comment in favour of looking at her friends. "Dr Watson, this is my cousin Molly and her boyfriend, Jim. Molly works at Bart's. I thought you'd like to meet her."
"Oh really?" John said with a friendly smile, shaking her hand. "That was my alma matter. I expect it's changed a fair amount."
Molly smiled. "I couldn't really say."
John turned to Jim and was surprised to find a set of unnervingly dark eyes studying him. He held out a hand automatically and Jim grabbed it, squeezing tightly. "Good to meet you," John said.
"You too, Dr Watson," Jim said softly, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You too."
Part 12