Chapter 1: It's all Fine
John Watson hobbles down the small stone path of a local park, his cane clinking against the trail each time he puts it down. It’s chilly out, not enough to warrant a winter coat, but enough that when the wind blows you feel the need to shiver. As he walks along he doesn’t notice the other people around him, all going about their days, many of them scurrying off to important meetings and places they need to be. But not John, he just walks along, nowhere to be, no one to worry where he is.
“John? … JOHN WATSON!” He turns around to see a slightly plump beta running up to him. He doesn’t recognize him and the confusion in his face must have been obvious as the beta starts talking again. “Mike, Mike Standford. We were at Bart’s together.” He smiles and offers his hand.
“Yes, sorry, Mike hello.” He switches his cane to his left hand in order to shake Mike’s with his right.
“Yeah, I know I got fat.” He smiles again cheerily. John tries to refute the statement but it doesn’t really come out. “I heard you were abroad somewhere getting shot at, what happened?’ He looks him over not paying much attention to the cane.
“Got shot.” John looks around for a moment and come back to the beta’s face, which is no longer smiling.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Ah, would you like to get a coffee?” Mike seems genuinely apologetic and John figures he doesn’t have anything better to do. So, he agrees. They head off to a small place on the campus nearby.
When they walk into the coffee shop it is quiet and smells of fresh cooked pastries. The whole place feels calming and women behind the counter his cute. John wonders if he could ask her on a date before remembering his current monetary status. He and Mike sit down at a nice spot, warmed by the atmosphere and the good coffee they begin to chat a bit. Mike tells him about life since they both graduated. He found a nice beta girl a year out and asked her to marry him another year later. They live in a modest place here near the school and have two children, a boy and a girl. They hope the boy will present as an Alpha, since the Alpha population has barely recovered in the last hundred years. As he says all of this, he looks at John expectantly, like he thinks because John is an Alpha he would agree with him. He nods a bit, but doesn’t really say much about his status. His second gender has always been a touchy subject.
Sensing his discomfort, Mike changes the subject. “What about you? Just staying in town while you get yourself sorted?” He takes a sip of coffee.
“Can’t afford London on an Army pension.” It comes out very dry, so he also takes a sip of his own coffee.
“Ah, couldn’t Harry help?” Mike refers to John’s Alpha sister as if he doesn’t know all of the trouble she has always been.
“Not likely.” He tries not to sound bitter but it doesn’t work. Luckily Mike doesn’t comment.
“Well, I dunno, get a flat share or something.”
“Come on, who’d want me as a flatmate.” He nearly smiles a bit saying this, as the notion on the whole thing sounds almost comical. But as he is thinking this, Mike actually does laugh, but it doesn’t sound like he's laughing at what John was saying. “What?” Mike laughs a little more.
“You know, you’re the second person to say that to me today.”
“Who’s the first?”
Mike takes John into Bart’s to meet this other supposed “bad flat mate”, which could be interesting. They walk into Bart’s, going through the old halls brings back good memories for John. They enter into one of the tech labs and immediately John is assaulted with the tantalizing smell of an unbonded Omega. A quick inhale and the smell of a warm spring meadow floods his nose, reminding him of lazy days spread out on a picnic blanket as soft clouds pass by. He looks around the room to see a dark haired man sitting at a microscope. John figures this must be the Omega he smells as there is no one else in the room, interesting considering male Omegas were rare, a strange genetic defect though not as rare as female Alphas. He almost panics as his mind narrows down to the man’s smell, the urge to claim overpowering. He tamps down his Alpha instincts and clears his throat instead and speaks to Mike. “Bit different from my day.” He stands still at the edge of the table, purposefully looking around and not at the amazing smelling Omega.
“Mike, can I borrow your phone? There’s no signal on mine” The dark haired man has a heavenly deep voice, like someone mixed just the right amount of rich dark chocolate and sweet honey together. In fact, the question comes out in an odd purr, but perhaps it’s just the pheromones in the air, affecting his brain.
“What’s wrong with the landline?” Mike questions.
“I prefer to text.”
“Sorry, it’s in my coat.” Mike doesn’t really seem apologetic. Which seems odd for the normally cheerful beta. Mike sits down and picks up something to fiddle with in his hands.
“Ah, here.” John breathes in deeply, getting another dose of the man. “Use mine.” He doesn’t move, but instead waits for the Omega to come to him. The man finally looks over at him, but with a slightly odd look on his face at the polite gesture.
“Oh, thank you.” The words don’t come out in that smooth honey way that they did before, almost as if he rarely uses those particular words.
The Omega gets up, he’s taller than expected and without his face behind the microscope it is easier to see that he is absolutely gorgeous. Mike pipes up a bit saying something but John can’t be bothered to listen as the man waltzes over, bringing more of his scent with him. He offers the cellphone out with a smile and when it is retrieved from his hand his inner Alpha hums with happiness.
“Afghanistan or Iraq?” The question is barely heard before a mildly attractive young Omega walks in. He looks over to Mike a bit confused and only sees a slight smile on the Beta’s face. John clears his throat as the two Omegas chat, something about lipstick. The young Omega smells slightly like citrus but unlike normal, he doesn’t have the urge to possess like he did when first smelling the tall male. She seems flustered by the end and walks out without ever noticing John.
He gets his phone handed back to him and the Omega goes back to the microscope. “Afghanistan.” He says it to see what sort of reaction he will get but the Omega seems to already be on to other things as he begins talking again.
“How do you feel about the violin?” He adjusts the knob on the side of the scope and then makes a note in a pad to the right.
“I’m sorry, what?” He looks again to Mike but he just continues to feign innocence.
“I play the violin when I’m thinking, sometimes I don’t talk for days...potential flat mates should know the worst about each other.” He gives a quick smile and is back to the microscope, again.
John looks over to Mike. “You told him about me?”
“Not a word.” He smiles a bit mischievous.
“Then who said anything about flat mates?” The word mates excites his inner Alpha.
The Omega gets up gathering his notebook and putting a blue scarf around his neck. “I did. I told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flat mate for, now here he is just after lunch with an old friend, clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn’t a difficult leap.” He walks past John, who tries his best not to breathe in. “I have a nice little place in central London. Together we should be able to afford it. You can meet me there tomorrow evening 7 o’clock. Sorry, gotta dash, I left my riding crop in the morgue.”
“Is that it?” He turns around as the Omega is about to leave the room.
“Is that what?” He looks apprehensive.
“We’ve only just met, and we’re going to go and look at a flat?” He questions the whole thing, not because he wouldn’t want to be around the wonderful smelling Omega all the time, but because of the implications.
“Problem?” He tilts his head a little bit, almost like a child but more like a dog who is curious about what has been put in front of him.
“We don’t know a thing about each other. I don’t know where we’re meeting, I don’t even know your name.” John says. ‘This Omega is crazy, I could be a serial killer for all he knows.’ He thinks
“I know you’re an Alpha Army doctor, and you’ve been invalided home from Afghanistan. You’ve got an older Alpha brother who’s worried about you, but you won’t go to him for help, because you don’t approve of him, possibly because he’s an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his Omega wife, and I know your therapist thinks your limp’s psychosomatic, quite correctly, I’m afraid. That’s enough to be going on with, don’t you think?" He opens the door and is halfway through when he leans back around. “The name is Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon.” He disappears though the door, all high cheekbones and long jacket.
“He’s always like that.” Mike nods like it’s normal for someone to instantly know everything about you as soon as they see you. They walk out of the lab and says their goodbyes. Mike is teaching a night class in about an hour, so they exchange numbers and Mike promises to have a get together where John can meet his wife and kids. John agrees and heads on home. Not that he would ever call that it that.
John spends the rest of his afternoon in his flat, wondering about the Omega, Sherlock Holmes. Such an odd name but it seems to fit such an odd fellow. The oddest thing though was his own reaction to the man’s scent. He’s never had the scent of an Omega affect him like Sherlock's, in fact he’s never smelled an Omega like him. He’s smelled Omegas plenty of times before, he usually has some sort of reaction but this was completely different. The scent was amazing, to the point where he felt the need to physically stop himself and stay back from him. Normally he would never go for a man, Omega males have never really drawn his attention, women either Betas or Omegas have always been more his thing. But his scent was so intoxicating, it would mix so well with his own woodland pine scent. He knocks the thought out of his head as soon as he thinks it.
He sits down at his computer, intent on attempting some writing about his day to get the therapist off his back. He pulls up a blank page and stares at it, willing words to form on the page. Needless to say, it doesn’t work like he wished, his brain won’t stop focusing on Sherlock. He looks to his computer and gets an idea. He loads up Google and chicken pecks Sherlock Holmes into the search bar. He’s not entirely sure what he is looking for or what he will do with any information he might find. But the first link that comes ups looks promising and after reading the page a bit he believes it was written by Sherlock. Most of the writing seems way above his head, as Sherlock talks about “The Science of Deduction.” An interesting concept but after a few hours John’s head is spinning and it’s getting late. He closes the laptop and grabs his towel intent on a shower to help clear his head. A minute later he steps into the water which melts away the head ache that was forming. He’s halfway through washing himself when he realizes he’s fondling himself a bit. He wasn’t even really thinking about what he hands were doing. He pulls his hand away and quickly rinses off all the soap. Embarrassed by his own actions, well not really the actions but the fact that he was thinking of Sherlock while doing it. He wasn’t thinking of him in a perverse way, just thinking about his website and how intriguing he was.
John gets out of the shower and throws on his bathrobe. He picks up the clothes he wore for the day and the scent of Sherlock hits him again. He stops short, smelling the tantalizing aroma of unbounded Omega which must have soaked into his clothes. His body reacts, responding to the scent and his previous fondling. He had been half hard already, but Omega scent is like a drug to Alphas, prompting their brains to shut down and their dick to take over. He groans a bit as his length rubs against the inside of the soft bathrobe. He has to make a decision now, does he relieve himself while his thoughts are on his potential new flat mate or ... he shakes his head getting the dirty thoughts out.
He drops the clothes and heads to the bed decidedly not taking the Omega scent with him. He dresses in lose pants and a tee shirt before getting into the bed. The entire time his dick demands attention, making it hard to put on pants and laying down onto his stomach pushes it nicely against the bed. He groans again, realizing that this is the first time he’s felt like rubbing one out since he was injured. He sighs and rolls over, attempting to will his prominent erection to settle down. It doesn’t exactly work at first but after laying there long enough counting backward from 100 he lulls himself into a light sleep.
John is nervous all day as he goes about doing absolutely nothing productive. He tries to type on his laptop, he gets a shower, brushes his teeth at least six times and finally just lays on the bed for a bit of a nap. He’s nervous about the meeting, which is stupid because he’s just going to look at an apartment, nothing to be nervous about. But the nervousness doesn’t abide and eventually he takes out his gun and cleans it, something that would normally relax him. Meticulously he cleans the metal, making sure each piece gets his full attention before moving on to the next. By the time the gun is clean John has calmed down and regained some of his usual composure. He stores the gun away in his desk, before grabbing his wallet and hailing a cab outside.
John reaches the door of 221 Baker Street, it’s large and old with a brass knocker. He thinks to himself as he gives the knocker a few raps that the neighborhood is nice and nothing he would normally be able to afford. He looks around a bit waiting for an answer. The sandwich shop here would be very convenient for nights when he didn’t feel like cooking. His thoughts are interrupted when the door opens, revealing a older lady with short greying hair and a bright smile.
“Hello. Can I help you?’
“Ah, yes. I’m here to meet Mr. Holmes.” He smiles
“Oh, are you a client?” She opens the door a bit further and her voices goes a bit hushed.
“No, no we are supposed to be looking at an apartment. This was the address he gave me.” He looks a bit confused. ‘What kind of clients is he seeing at his home? Is he some sort of psychologist?’
“You must be John. Sherlock mentioned you would be by but he didn’t mention you being an Alpha.” She giggles like a school girl as she ushers him inside. “Come on, don’t want that cold air getting in.”
As he follows her up the stairs he can smell the faint aroma that tells him she is an Omega who is past her prime. It’s always hard to tell with the elderly what their second gender is, most of them come off as Betas because they often put off little to no scent. But now that he does know she is an Omega it explains her giggly reaction to him. Alphas numbers have barely just begun coming back, so she likely rarely encountered any.
They reach the top of the stairs and he can already smell Omega from the outside of the door. However, there is more than one Omega scent mixed together, the second is extremely similar to the first and he can only really distinguish it because there is a slight unnaturalness to it. He braces himself as she opens the door, knowing that the scent will be tenfold inside.
“Yoo hoo.” The noise is a bit sing song, like something you would use on a baby. “Sherlock?” She enters into the room as John waits by the door. It’s an old Alpha habit to never walk into another’s territory without their explicit permission, no matter if it be another Alpha’s territory or an Omega territory. It is too threatening of a gesture and John isn’t that kind of Alpha.
From his spot by the door he watches the older women wonder off to the left, presumably to hunt down Sherlock. This allows him time to see the room and try to pick up where the other Omega like smell is coming from. He doesn’t immediately notice anything different about the apartment to the countless others, well besides the “interesting” décor. He leaned his head over the threshold to get a better look.
“Do you always obey tradition?” A voice asks him from somewhere in the room. John jumps back a bit, realizing that his leaning could be taken as a threat. Curiosity was getting the better of him. He clears his throat.
“Not always. No.” He answers back to the questioner. Looking back into the room he notices a figure get up from the couch and cross over to the doorway. There standing in front of him, is what could only be a teenage version of Sherlock. From the dark curly hair to the calculating blue gray eyes, he is a perfect copy. John loses his breath for a minute as the slightly unnatural Omega scent hits him in the face, stirring something low in his stomach.
“You are John.” The kid says it as a statement, there is no question behind it. He looks John up and down, assessing him. “You may enter my father’s territory. He will be here momentarily.” And with that he turns around, strolling back over to a brown couch where he picks up a book among the many that are scattered everywhere.
John really isn’t entirely sure of what to do, he doesn’t smell an Alpha which he would usually assume to be the kids father, but many children will refer to the first gender so the kid must be referring to Sherlock. He technically was invited in, so he takes the chance and makes sure to close the door behind him. His cane makes a good bit of noise each time he puts it down on the old wooden floor, but walking around the place is so interesting he can’t entirely help himself. The Holmes territory is full of fascinating objects, including books of all shapes and sizes, what appears to be a real human skull on the mantle, and who could miss the bull skull with headphones just hanging out on the wall. As he goes over to touch the skull he hears the older lady walk back into the room, heels tapping away with each step.
“Sherlock, I am not your housekeeper.” She walks toward the door.
“But Ms. Hudson.” Sherlock, the real one, John makes the distinction, follows closely behind her.
“Not your housekeeper, just your landlady.” She makes her way down the stairs where Sherlock decides to not follow. He turns around, coming back into the room, where John notices he is wearing a suit. ‘Who wears a suit around their own house?’
“Ahem. Mr. Holmes.” John stands a bit awkwardly next to the skull, leaning on his cane. Sherlock looks over at him, noticing him and giving him a funny look before coming over with his hand held out.
“Oh please, John, call me Sherlock.” He shakes the Alphas hand and looks to the younger Omega on the couch. The kid looks to his father and some sort of silent conversation seems to pass between the two, the only reason he can tell is because they both make a few motions with their eyes to which then Sherlock says. “I see that you have met Iris.” He indicates his son with a small gesture of the head.
John clears his throat. “Uh, yes he said I could come in. I almost mistook him for you, actually you are quiet similar, except you know.” He sort of gives a small smile but both of the Omegas look at him funny. He licks his lips out of habit and tries to explain. “You know, he’s a stunted omega, so you almost smell identical accept for that and the...” John clears his throat and says in almost a whisper. “virginal scent.” His voice returns to its normal volume after a quick clear of his throat. “Almost couldn’t tell there were two Omegas here when I got to the door.” Sherlock looks to Iris and back at John with a bit of bewilderment.
“Iris’s not an Omega, he hasn’t presented yet?” Sherlock says meanwhile Iris has a high blush on his cheeks, sniffing himself presumably trying to smell his own scent.
“Well, technically you are correct, he hasn’t officially presented as an Omega because they have been presenting later, but they still smell like omegas before they have their first heat. I learned about them in medical school, it’s becoming almost normal now, with Alphas being so rare, that Omega bodies have adapted to present late or sometimes even not at all due to lack of potential mates.” He finishes his mini lecture and realizes that the Holmes are both staring at him blankly as if neither of them have ever heard of this, when it’s been happening since WWII after the Alpha population was all but killed off.
“Why hasn’t anyone told me?” Iris questions as he gets up from the couch. “I don’t feel or look any different. Why didn’t dad notice that I smell like an Omega now?” He starts to look a bit annoyed, as if John is lying to him.
“Well, I don’t know really. I mean your dad and you smell almost identical, I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone just thought that you smelled like him, after all it is his territory that you live in and it all smells like him anyway. So, it’s not much of a stretch.” He stops talking and Sherlock has a blank look on this face while Iris no longer looks angry but maybe like he might vomit instead.
John tries to say something more, but as he goes to open his mouth he hears running up the stairs. A tall man with graying hair comes barreling through the door, to which Sherlock doesn’t immediately turn. In fact the man says Sherlock's name several times before he finally turns.
“Can you come? We need you.” The tall, now clearly Alpha smelling man asks.
“You’ve had a fourth. I’ll be right behind you.” He turns back around and the Alpha looks annoyed but he leaves just as quickly as he came the faint smell of leather barely lingering in his wake. The whole exchange look less than a minute and leaves John feeling even more out of place. Especially when all of the sudden Sherlock jumps into the air excitedly yelling something about it being Christmas.
“John, make yourself at home, Iris can show you your room, I don’t know when I’ll return.” He crosses over to Iris and gives him a kiss on the forehead. Which seems to snap the kid back to reality. He smiles at his father and Sherlock smiles back fondly. John turns away feeling like he is encroaching on a private moment. And with nothing left to say Sherlock rushes from the room, grabbing his coat along the way and toppling the coat rack, so it falls against the wall.
John sort of looks at the coat rack and decides if he is going to live here he might as well make it tidy. He goes to the rack and puts it back standing, even hangs a few things on it that are laying on the floor. Makes him feel like he accomplished something for the day. He hobbles back across the room grabbing a pillow with a union jack on it along the way. He plops the pillow down, giving it a good whack before sitting down to rest. He looks over to Iris, who hasn’t picked up his book but is instead staring at a spot on the wall.
“Iris?” The boy looks over question written on his face.
“Yes, John?” He says.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, I truly thought you would know – “ From the corner of his eye he sees Sherlock slowly come back into the room. He looks over and Sherlock looks different than before. Before he looked like an excited kid, now he looks dark and mysterious.
“You’re a doctor.” He says it in such a low tone that it sends a shiver down John spine. “An army doctor.” He walks closer, slow as if stalking prey.
“Yes.” John says as he stands up using his cane for support.
“A good one I’d say by how you diagnosed Iris.” Sherlock stops just a foot away from John, towering over him as he quirks an inquisitive eyebrow. The air between them feels charged and John can’t help but flick a quick look at Sherlock lips.
“Very good.” He looks up with a bit of challenge in his eyes.
“Seen a lot of injuries then? Violent deaths?” Sherlock eyes grow a bit wide.
“Bit of trouble too, I bet.”
“Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much.” John answers back sternly, staring Sherlock down.
“Want to see some more?” His eyes alight.
“Oh, god, yes.” John answers back immediately.
Sherlock smiles, then whirls around to run back down the stairs. But John doesn’t immediately follow, first he looks over to Iris, who has picked his book back up. He nods to John with a small understanding smile. ‘This must happen often.’ John thinks, but he smiles back before following Sherlock down the stairs and into a waiting cab.
Sherlock's looking out the window of the cab as they race toward their unknown destination. John can’t help but keep looking over at the Omega, the scent making it hard not to pay attention to him. He isn’t trying to be subtle about it but he does feel a bit embarrassed when Sherlock says, “Okay, you’ve got questions.”
“Where are we going?” He asks just to start with.
“Crime scene. Next?” Sherlock says with a slightly annoyed tone.
“Who are you? What do you do?”
“What do you think?” He shoots back with.
“I’d say private detective...”
“But...” Sherlock deep voice says as he looks out the window again.
“But the police don’t go to private detectives.” He sees the Omega smile from the corner of his eye.
“I’m a consulting detective. The only one in the world. I invented the job.”
“What does that mean?” John questions some more.
“It means whenever the police are out of their depth—which is always—they consult me.” John scoffs and looks out the window. When he looks back he realizes that Sherlock is looking at him confused.
“The police don’t consult amateurs.” John says with a bit of a laugh. Sherlock looks back at him with amusement and then gives him a sly smile.
“When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said “Afghanistan or Iraq?” You looked surprised.”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“I didn’t know, I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself, says military. But your conversation as you entered the room said trained at Bart’s, so army doctor. Alpha scent, obvious. Your face is tanned, but no tan above the wrists: you’ve been abroad but not sunbathing. The limp’s really bad when you walk, but you don’t ask for a chair when you stand, like you’ve forgotten about it, so it’s at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were probably traumatic: wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan: Afghanistan or Iraq.” Sherlock finishes, turning his head away to face the window. John looks forward pursing his lips before debating his next question.
“You said I had a therapist.” He says it almost like a question.
“You’ve got a psychosomatic limp. Of course you’ve got a therapist.” Sherlock says matter of fact. “Then there’s your brother. Your phone—it’s expensive, email enabled, MP3 player. But you’re looking for a flat-share, you wouldn’t waste money on this. It’s a gift, then.” He flips the phone around in his hand a bit. “Scratches—not one, many over time. It’s been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn’t treat his one luxury item like this, so it’s had a previous owner. The next bit’s easy, you know it already.” He turns the phone over and shows the back to John.
[the back of the phone has been engraved “Harry Watson — from Clara xxx”]
“The engraving?” He questions.
“Harry Watson, clearly a family member who’s given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man’s gadget. Could be a cousin, but you’re a war hero who can’t find a place to live. Unlikely you’ve got an extended family, certainly not one you’re close to, so brother it is. Now, Clara. Who’s Clara?” He over exaggerates her name in a silky tone. “Three kisses says a romantic attachment. Expensive phone says bonded, not girlfriend. Must’ve given it to him recently; this model’s only six months old. Bonding in trouble, then—six months on, and already he’s giving it away?” Sherlock waves the phone from side to side as he speaks now. “If she’d left him, he would’ve kept it. People do, sentiment. But nooooo, he wanted rid of it—he left her. He gave the phone to you, that says he wants you to stay in touch.” The cab takes a bit of a sharp turn and they both look forward for a moment.
“You’re looking for cheap accommodation and you’re not going to your brother for help?” He points the phone at John. “That says you’ve got problems with him. Maybe you liked his Omega, maybe you don’t like his drinking.”
“How can you possibly know about the drinking?” He looks over and Sherlock is all sly smiles.
“Shot in the dark. Good one, though.” He turns the phone to the side. “Power connection: tiny little scuff marks around the edge. Every night he goes to plug it in and charge but his hands are shaky.” He demonstrates by shaking the phone.
“You never see those marks on a sober man’s phone, never see a drunk’s without them. There you go, you see? You were right.” He slaps the phone into Johns hand matter of fact.
John stays silent for a bit, thinking to himself before saying “I was right? Right about what?”
“The police don’t consult amateurs.” Sherlock looks back out the window.
John fiddles with the phone in his hands. “That...was...amazing.” Sherlock slowly turns toward him. He opens his mouth, but shuts it, then tries again.
“You think so?” He asks the question genuinely which confuses John a bit.
“Of course it was. It was extraordinary. It was quite... extraordinary.” He grins over at the Omega who has gone a soft in the face.
“That’s not what people normally say.”
“What do people normally say?”
John laughs as he looks out into the night. They stay silent the rest of the way.
Several minutes later when they exit the cab John can see an area that has been sectioned off by police tap a block away. He and Sherlock begin walking toward it when Sherlock says “Did I get anything wrong?”
“Harry and me don’t get on. Never have. Clara and Harry split up, um, three months ago, they’re dissolving their bond.” He hesitates for a moment, the pain in his leg saying hi for a moment. “Harry is a drinker.”
“Spot on then, I didn’t expect to be right about everything.”
“Harry is short for Harriet.” John continues walking but notices that Sherlock has stopped dead in his tracks. He turns around to look at the Omega who has a stunned look on his face.
“Harry’s your sister.” Sherlock says completely monotone.
“What exactly am I supposed to be doing here?” John looks at the police tape in front of him, which flash blue and red from the police lights.
“ALPHA SISTER!” Sherlock hisses as he himself walks up to the police tape.
“Alpha sister, rare right. But no seriously, what am I doing here?” He turns to Sherlock but turns back when a lady police officer walks over to them. She stops looking John up and down with an unattractive sneer on her face. She lacks much scent, so Beta John determines.
“What are you doing here, freak?” She emphasizes the last word and John looks at her a bit funny as he realizes she is calling Sherlock that name.
“I was invited.”
“Sure you were.” She says. “And who are you?” She looks back over to John, sneer still in place.
“I’m nobody.” She goes to say something in response but she is interrupted by a shout.
“DONOVAN!” John looks over and sees the same grey haired Alpha that came into the flat earlier. He waves his hand signaling to let them in. To which the beta officer rolls her eyes and lifts the tape up.
As they walk over to the front steps John can hear “Donovan” saying that the freak is coming into the building into her radio. John scowls a bit but hides it as another Beta, this time male, walks up to Sherlock and gets in his face.
“This is my crime scene and I don’t want you contaminating it!” He’s right in Sherlock's face but the Omega doesn’t back off for a second. Keeping his cool exterior he calmly replies.
“Good to see you too Anderson. Is your wife away for long?” The Beta looks over confused.
“Oh, don’t pretend someone didn’t tell you that.”
“No, your deodorant told me that.”
“My what?” His face does a weird scrunchy motion.
“It’s for men.” Sherlock does a wibble wobble motion with his head and John almost snorts at how silly he looks.
“Well of course it’s for men. I’m wearing it.” He puffs his chest out defensively.
“So is Donovan.” John looks over to the female Beta and she has gone a bit wide in the eyes.
“Now, I don’t know what you’re imply – “ He gets interrupted by Sherlock.
“Oh, I’m not implying anything. I’m sure Sally came around for a nice chat and a cuppa. Looks like she scrubbed your floors going by the state of her knees.” Sherlock turns toward the building and briskly walks inside leaving John to watch an extremely embarrassed Donovan and Anderson slink off in different directions. He follows after Anderson who goes into the building but spots Sherlock’s coat and breaks off after him, encountering his arch nemesis again. Stairs.
At the top he is stopped by the silver haired Alpha when he steps up to Sherlock. “Who is this?” He doesn’t even look at John when he says it, instead electing to ask Sherlock. To this John gives a slight growl, drawing the man’s attention as he answers with his own low growl. The two Alpha’s stare each other down, John feel’s short next to the silver haired leather scented Alpha but can tell he could have easily taken the other in a fight, that is before he got shot.
“He’s with me. Now where is the body?” The Alpha points to a room and John continues following the long black coat.
Before he even enters the room is can smell something off. He sniffs around and the other Alpha nods his head at him when he sees him do it, confirming that he can smell it too. There was more than one person in this room, the lady who lies dead on the floor is one of the scents, but the second is definitely male. But the difference is in the second gender, they were using some sort of scent blockers, which would throw off any Alphas or Omegas who would normally be able to distinguish the gender. In essence, the person knew what they were doing.
While this small exchange happened Sherlock stepped over to the body and began examining it. Silver hair speaks while he does so.
“Couple of kids found her here. There’s no signs of any struggle on the body, nor any signs of someone dragging her. Getting her up those stairs would have been difficult.” As he says this Sherlock motions for John to come down and examine the body. John does so, getting down on his knees best he can and lays his cane down.
“What am I doing here?”
“Examining the body. Tell me what you can.”
John gives a heavy sigh but with a look from the Omega he picks up her hand and begins examining it. He gives it a pinch and sees that the blood pools back slowly. He then lifts up her hair, examines the face and sniffs for alcohol.
“Asphyxiation. Chocked on her own vomit. Doesn’t smell of alcohol...drugs maybe.” John grabs his cane and does his best to get up.
“Were checking where she came from – “
“Cardiff.” Sherlock is staring at his phone when he says it and looks up to several confused faces. “She’s from Cardiff.” He looks at them like his answer makes perfect sense but they just stare back at him blankly. “Her coat. It’s damp but the umbrella in her pocket is dry, she’s been in heavy rain, heavy wind too otherwise she would have used the umbrella. But it’s dry here in London, haven’t seen rain all day. She has a train pass, which means she was traveling, but she only has a small night bag, so she wasn’t traveling very far, likely just one night. Her coat is still wet now which means she hasn’t been here long. So, where has there been heavy rain, less than a few hours ago that would be just a bit too far for a singles day travel. Cardiff.” Sherlock takes a bit of a breathe and goes blank in the face.
“Brilliant.” John says. Sherlock looks at him a little funny but goes on.
“Where is her bag?” The detective looks around the room.
“She didn’t have a bag.”
“What do you mean, yes she did. You can tell by the splash back on her stockings, she was pulling it behind her and the wheels flicked dirt up onto the calf of the right leg.” He gestures to the body but the Alpha just shrugs.
“Sherlock, she didn’t have a bag.” The Alpha crosses his arms and looks at the body. John looks at her again, but she hasn’t changed. As his thoughts begin to drift off he hears a shout and looks up to see Sherlock running out of the door.
“Sherlock, where are you going?” The Alpha yells.
“Her bag, the killer must have it! He made a mistake! Find the bag!” And with that Sherlock takes off down the stairs leaving the two Alphas to stare after him. After a moment John realizes that he should probably be following but he is stopped as the taller Alpha moves in his way.
“Lestrade, Detective Inspector Lestrade.” He holds out his hand to John, who after a moment shakes it, hard.
“Dr. John Watson.” The inspector gives him a small nod and then calls out to all his people to get back in the room. John takes this as his hint to leave, he slowly takes the stairs back down and realize when he walks out to the street that Sherlock is nowhere to be seen.
“He's gone. He does that.” John looks over and it’s Donovan. “So, who are you?” She comes closer to him and he stands his ground, not intimated by her in the slightest.
“I’m...I’m no one.” He looks around trying to figure out how to get back to the flat.
“Well, he’s not your friend. He doesn’t have friends and don’t even think about being his Alpha. He doesn’t do that either.” She smiles like she knows something funny. “You know, he doesn’t get paid for this, he’s not a real detective. He just gets off on it, the death, he gets bored and this is what he does to fill the boredom. But you know what I think. I think he’s going to get bored with that too and one day we are going to be standing around a body, and Sherlock will be the one who put it there.” She looks at him, maybe thinking he would agree with her, but he just shifts on his bad leg.
“Do you know where I could get a cab?” He looks down at his leg. “It’s just my leg...”
Donovan looks a bit taken aback, like she didn’t expect to be shot down. But she sighs and looks around before lifting up the police tape. “Try the main road.”
John ducks under the tape and begins limping away, but turns around when he hears he speak again.
“You should stay away from Sherlock Holmes.” She gives him a look and then walks away toward the crime scene.
John leaves, doing his best to find a cab home.
The next scenes of John being abducted by Mycroft (Beta), are exactly the same except he probably said something about John being an Alpha moving in with two Omegas and how scandalous that would be. (Note: In my world even with Alphas being rare most people have not yet become completely comfortable with Alphas taking multiple Omegas. Though it is legal because the government thought it would make it easier to get Alphas repopulated. Though China has done worse to get alphas back with little more success.
John tries to talk to “Anthea”, she smells nice, her natural Omega scent filling the car. But she shuts him down pretty quickly, so he gets out of the unmarked black car and heads up to Baker Street. He knocks on the door and Mrs. Hudson answers. She smiles a bright full face smile and lets him in.
“Dr. Watson, you’re back.” He smiles back at her but doesn’t really say anything as he comes in. “I didn’t really get to talk to you earlier, Sherlock just got me all in a tizzy.” She makes a funny movement with her hands waving in the air. “You know I had a few ideas for what we could do with the extra room upstairs. I think Iris should have his own room and with you moving into Sherlock’s room you really should move him out. We can...” John interrupts quickly shaking his head.
“No...no, I’m not... Sherlock and I are not...not a couple.” He stammers over his words but when he finally gets to the end Hudson face loses a bit of the previous smile.
“Oh, silly me, you two just met! You should really wait, it’s good to see more old fashioned courtings.” She smiles again and nods her head thoughtfully. John just sort of stands there flabbergasted but turns to face the stairs.
“Well, I still haven’t decided if I’m going to move in so we can talk about it later.” He nods to her and she just turns to her own flat and goes through the door with a little wave.
John takes a breathe and he’s almost right back to where he was a few hours ago. But this time, he knows what’s up in that flat. He knows that there is an over powering smell of delicious Omega attached to a tall weird man, who everyone is telling him to stay away from. He knows that in the past few hours he has seen a dead women, been left behind in a strange part of town and been carted off to a random warehouse, where he was sort of threatened... and it was the most wonderful excitement he has had in months.
He gives the stairs a smile as he thinks about how his life could end up like if he decides to stay here. Would he continue helping Sherlock solve crimes? What would life be like if he came to live here? Would the detective eventually get bored of him like Donovan had predicted of the crimes? Then again he would have to be interested in him in order to get bored with him...was he interested in him? I mean he took one look and knew everything about his life so wouldn’t that automatically mean he knew everything and there was nothing more to learn? John’s thoughts die out as the smell of the flat hits his nose, it’s like the smell is made just for him and the next thing he knows he is inside taking a deep calming breathe.
“Ah, John, there you are. I need to borrow your phone.” Sherlock is laying on the brown couch, his fingers steepled under his chin. He’s changed out of the suit he was wearing, well really just removed the tailored jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his ridiculously tight white shirt. Now that he notices...
“Do you have three nicotine patches on your arm? You know that is way above health recommendations.” He walks over to the couch intent on taking off the patches.
“It’s a three patch problem, be glad I’m not actually smoking. I would have inhaled more than five patches worth by now.” He holds out his hand palm up. “Phone.”
John looks at the open palm and is a bit irritated but he pulls his phone out and sets it into the outstretched palm. But Sherlock simply tucks it under his chin and doesn’t move. Not knowing what to do from there, John goes over to the window and looks out, only just remembering the Beta man with the umbrella. He draws back the curtain and looks into the street, expecting perhaps to see a black car watching over the flat. But as far as he can tell, there is no one watching.
“What are you doing?” Sherlock must have noticed him acting odd.
“Just looking for a friend of yours I met today.” He checks down the street a bit but still no sign of anything suspicious.
“A friend? “ Sherlock voice goes a bit funny when he says friend and his body lifts up a bit from the couch.
“Oh, which one?” He asks this so nonchalantly that John has to look at him all back to being comfy to realize he is being serious.
“Well your arch enemy of course.” He says it almost as a joke because the very notion of an arch enemy in real life is absurd.
“Did he offer you money?” Sherlock looks over.
He considers lying to him, but Sherlock has seen through everything so far. “Yes.”
“Did you take it?” He questions.
“No.” He looks back out the window.
“Pity. We could have split the money, think it through next time.” Sherlock fiddles with the phone.
“Where’s Iris?” John looks around the room.
“Night classes at his University.” Sherlock holds out the phone. “I need to you text something for me to the number I just entered.
John crosses the room muttering under his breathe about how Iris is 16 at the max, how is he in Uni already.
“It’s his third year, he would have graduated earlier but I held him back until he was a teen.” John takes the phone from the out stretched hand. “Enter exactly what I say.”
John follows Sherlock's words to A tee, typing them into the phone and sending it. The message seems oddly cryptic but that seems right in line with what he knows about the mad detective on the couch.
“Who did I send that too?” Sherlock ignores the question, choosing instead to violently remove himself from the couch and rush through the kitchen. John sits in the chair and fiddles with the pillow from earlier. He quiet likes the little pillow and the chair, its oddly comforting. Probably because his apartment didn’t have anything like it, it reminds him of home. Sherlock rushes back into the room in a flurry of motion, slamming something onto the table and then going quiet. It’s a bright pink case.
They argue back and forth about the implications of having the case, how Sherlock could be seen as the murderer if someone discovers they have it. He’s rebuked by a slew of deductions from the man that make his head hurt and next thing he knows he’s being whisked off to eat at some little Italian place.
‘It’s nice here, even if the owner Angelo seems to mistake the dinner as a date.’ John tries to explain but the man doesn’t listen and why should he. You see an Alpha and Omega out to eat, it’s only right to assume it is a romantic occasion. They stay quiet for a while as Sherlock stares out the window and John orders some food.
“People don’t have arch-enemies.” John says before taking the first bite.
Sherlock takes a moment but finally looks around. “I’m sorry?”
“In real life. People don’t have arch-enemies. Doesn’t happen.” He waves his fork around a bit.
“Don’t they? Sounds a bit dull.” That smooth voice hovers on the L and John wonders why the sound of Sherlock's voice appeals so much to him. It’s much too deep for an Omega, but maybe that’s what makes it interesting.
“So, who was that man?” He takes another bite of his food, only now realizing how hungry he was.
“What do real people have, then, in their ‘real lives’? Sherlock questions to the window.
“ Friends; people they know; people they like; people they don’t like ... girlfriends…” He hesitates looking at Sherlock's face. “boyfriends …” He licks his lips.
“Yes, well as I was saying – dull.”
“So, you don’t have a girlfriend.” He knows this statements seems illogical seeing that Sherlock obviously gave birth to Iris and he clearly needed a male donor since male Omegas and female Alphas can’t impregnate anyone.
“Girlfriend?” He sneers a bit at the word. “No, no really my area.”
John takes another bite of his food and then realizes that Sherlock sounds like he’s implying he is more traditional and his inner Alpha growls with the implication but at the same time he realizes that just because Sherlock is unbonded doesn’t mean Iris’s Alpha is out of the picture. “Oh, right. Do you have a boyfriend?” He tries to come off as casual but the sharp eyes that pin him down say he missed the mark completely. “Which would make more sense...”
“I know it would.”
“So, you’ve got a boyfriend then?”
“No.” He says sharply.
John just tries to smile politely, he wasn’t trying to pry, the Alpha in the back of his mind is happy to know Sherlock is single, but he shoves it down, realizing his Alpha really needs to calm down. “Right. Okay. You’re unattached. Like me.” He takes another bite of food and tries to ignore the fact that Sherlock is staring at him. Eventually, the mad man turns his attention back out the window. But not for long.
“John, I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work and the parenting of Iris. They are my life, so while I’m flattered by your interest, I’m really not looking for a mate –“
Looking up from his plate John sputters out a reply. “No.” Chokes a bit. “No, that’s not… I’m not asking. No.” He locks eyes onto Sherlock and speaks with sincerity. “I’m just saying, it’s all fine.”
Sherlock eyes him wearily. “Good. Thank you.”
“I was just wondering if you still saw Iris’s father, I didn’t want to make him worry that his unbonded son was around an unbonded Alpha.” John says it quietly, but Sherlock can hear the genuine tone in his voice. His face softens as he realizes that John is unlike most Alpha’s he has come across.
“Iris’s Alpha is no longer in the picture. I was - .” Sherlock isn’t sure how to explain it but John cuts in raising his hand to stop him.
“You don’t have to tell me, Sherlock. It’s not my place to know how Iris was conceived, for all I know you had him because of Mandate #25 and there was no one in your life. It’s really common for unbonded Omega’s to be single parents since the mandate, but it’s hard and I admire you for being so strong.” John can’t really look at Sherlock while he says it all, so he talks to his plate of food. “It’s all fine, I just don’t want to make anything harder for you.” John gets the courage to look at him and smiles.
“Thank you, John.” Sherlock's small smile is honest and John’s heart skips a beat with how young and beautiful he looks.
John looks away, embarrassed by how much that smile affects him. He doesn’t have long to analyze it because the next moment Sherlock is speaking quickly and rushing out the door. He gets up, running after the crazy omega.
John and Sherlock return to the flat, leaning against the hallway they breathe heavily trying to catch their breath.
“That was ridiculous.” John says, panting and clutching his knees. He’s trying to hide the slight erection he’s got going on, due to the adrenaline and the thrill of chasing a beautiful unbonded Omega across the city. It’s made him giddy with pleasure. “That was the most ridiculous thing…huff….huff… I’ve ever done.”
“And you invaded Afghanistan.” Sherlock looks over and then begins laughing, making John snicker with delight at the sound.
“That wasn’t just me.” Sherlock chuckles low and it’s that sweet dark chocolate voice that has John going harder inside his jeans.
“Yoo hoo.” Mrs. Hudson peaks out of her door, looking over the pair as they finish their laughing.
“Mrs. Hudson, Dr. Watson will take the room upstairs.” She looks delighted for a moment.
“Says who?” John questions.
“Says the man at the door.” Sherlock nods his head toward the door, just as three short knocks can be heard. Sherlock smiles and John walks over to answer it, hiding himself as discretely as possible. He’s surprised when he sees Angelo smiling at the door. He holds up John’s cane and hands it over politely.
“You forgot this.” He turns around and heads off down the street.
“Oh.” John stares at the cane, turning around to face the others. He had forgotten about the limp, hadn’t felt any pain the whole time he ran after Sherlock. He was so focused on following the coat tails and delicious smell,chasing a criminal down, his instincts alive. It had seemed so natural, almost like a mating run. He spins the cane around in his hands and sets it down by the door. He looks to Mrs. Hudson, about to let her know he will be staying. But her face has fallen and she’s speaking quickly to Sherlock, who dashes off up the stairs. John follows quickly, entering into the open flat door without stopping this time.
The alpha from before, Lestrade is sitting in Sherlock's chair and it takes all John’s willpower not to throw him out of it. The smell of his Alpha pheromones tainting Sherlock's territory has him lowly growling, a faint rumble in the base of his chest.
“What are your men doing?” Sherlock's voice is angry and his posture says he’s ready to fight.
“Well, I knew you’d find the case. I’m not stupid.” He says it a bit flatly like he doesn’t completely believe the second part.
“You can’t just break into my flat.”
“You can’t withhold evidence. And I didn’t break into your flat.” Lestrade raises his voice but Sherlock doesn’t back down in the slightest. If anything the omega stands taller, posturing at the Alpha.
“What do you call this, then?” He gestures to all the police rummaging through the flat.
“A drugs bust.” He says it almost cheerily, like he was being smart.
John bursts out a short barking laugh. “Drugs bust. This guy, a junkie. Seriously!? Have you met him?” He almost starts to laugh again but Lestrade looks away and Sherlock has crowded into his space. His Omega scent is different, subdued and as John looks at his face his own drops the smile. The man is serious, his face stern and John can’t believe this beautiful minded man would ever want to dull himself with drugs. It makes John want to take Sherlock into his arms and tell him how incredible he is, tell him how he should never try to cloud his mind again.
“You?” He says it quietly. But Sherlock just stares at him for a moment, then turns back to the Inspector.
“I’m not your sniffer dog, Lestrade.” He says angrily.
“Oh, no. Anderson’s my sniffer dog.” He nods toward the kitchen.
Sherlock locks eyes on the greasy head of the Beta from the crime scene. “Anderson!” This is one of the last things John hears before he starts to see red. He hadn’t noticed before but there are several more officers in the kitchen and all of the different scents are starting to mingle in the flat. He chest rumbles as he gets angry over this intrusion into Sherlock's territory and his future territory. He hadn’t officially claimed it yet but he was going to live here and he hated all the useless Betas knocking about, getting their stinking scents mixed in with Sherlock and Iris’s beautiful meadow grass.
“JOHN!” He snaps back to reality at the sound of Sherlock calling his name. He looks up from where he was staring at the floor. His hands unclench and he looks around. All of the Betas have either kneeled or shrunk back bowing their heads in submission. Sherlock's pupils are blown wide and Lestrade is looking ill, but not backing down. It takes a moment for John to realize that he can smell aggression pheromones all around him, his own in fact, the heavy pine forest scent trying to cover every surface. Everyone responded to the scent of the strong Alpha, instinct telling them to stop and submit, or face a fight.
“Sorry.” He licks his lips. “ Can you please tell them to be more gentle with everything they are moving. Yeah?” Lestrade nods, then signals for everyone to be a bit quieter. After a minute John has calmed down but Sherlock has started to become a bit more chaotic.
He’s yelling at Anderson about not being a psychopath and the only point in the yelling that he looks sorry is when he asks John about dying. This all continues on and on until Sherlock is telling John to track GPS on the computer and he’s doing his best to keep up. The next moment when he looks up, Sherlock is suddenly gone.
He doesn’t hesitate when he puts a bullet into the man with the pill. He’s gone before Sherlock can see him, wonders around the streets a bit, knowing Sherlock is safe. He arrives back after a bit to stand as part of the crowd. He smells the detective long before he sees him, but once he spots him he tries to act nonchalant even though he internally wants to laugh at how silly Sherlock looks wrapped in a blanket. It conjures up thoughts of him wrapped up in John’s bed on a Saturday morning. But he quickly removes the thoughts from his head. But not before Sherlock gives him a funny look and then walks over to him, flinging the blanket aside and looking posh again in that coat.
“Sergeant Donovan’s just been explaining everything, the two pills. Been a dreadful business, hasn’t it? Dreadful.” He turns and they begin walking away from the crime scene.
“Good shot.” Sherlock say quietly.
“Yes. Yes, must have been, through that window.” John says it while looking as innocent as possible.
“Well, you’d know. Now wouldn’t you?” He gives John a look that tells him the detective knows. “Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. I don’t suppose you’d serve time for this, but let’s avoid the court case.”
John tries to maintain his calm demeanor by clearing his throat, but he looks around a little nervous.
“Are you all right?” Sherlock asks and seems genuinely concerned.
“Yes. Yes of course I’m alright.” John smiles but Sherlock gets closer to him and gives him a little sniff. The Alpha smells normal, no panicked aroma detected and John rolls his eyes a bit when he realizes what Sherlock just did.
They head off to eat and end up meeting Mycroft along the way, who introduces himself as Sherlock’s brother. John can’t help but gape at the two, startled by how different they are to each other.
After some great Chinese food, which Sherlock woofed down like a starving man, they return to the flat, high off their first solved case together, John with stars in his eyes for Sherlock and the detective oddly warm from John’s gaze.
They walk into the sitting room to find that that Iris is scrubbing vigorously at everything trying to rid the place of the multitude of conflicting scents. He looks a little panicked as he rubs his half naked body against various objects scenting them anew. Sherlock runs over to the younger Omega, clearly this behavior is strange as he wraps his arms around his son, stopping him from continuing. The kid whines high in his throat and the sound has John stepping forward before he can even think, wanting to comfort the young Omega. He’s half across the room before he stops himself, watching as Sherlock begins to nuzzling his neck into Iris’s, rubbing their scent glands together. Iris reciprocates with vigor, clasping his hands into his father’s shirt and pulling him forward, thrusting his nose right into his neck.
John is stunned by the erotic scene playing out in front of him, scenting was something reserved for lovers, and seeing two Omegas scenting was akin to seeing the start of a mating, guaranteed to drive any Alpha crazy with unbridled want. If John were any normal Alpha he’d be pinning the two of them down without thinking. Lucky for the pair, he stays stuck to the spot, watching as Iris calms himself, slowing down the scenting until his head’s laying gently on his father’s shoulder. Sherlock picks his son up, gently walking him down the hall and into their shared room.
It takes a few minutes for John to process what just happened but when he comes to he can smell that Iris wasn’t finished re-scenting the territory. He grabs up some of objects and lightly rubs his hands on them, leaving behind his own faint smell. It calms him, but clearly Iris wasn’t as calmed by it as he was. The kid had gone into over drive, John feels that it’s his fault, having told Iris of his second gender might has made him more aware of his own instincts, like the territory scenting he just displayed.
Sherlock returns a while later while John is doing dishes, having finished scenting the rest of the flat, taking special time to rub himself into the chair that Lestrade had sat in. His Alpha hummed in his chest with satisfaction with the mingling of his scent into his new territory, just as he thought his rich pine mixes wonderfully with the spring meadow grass. John sees the detective enter the kitchen from the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t say anything, not sure exactly what to say.
“John.” Sherlocks voice is firm but the simple name says so much. Mix that in with the worried scent that is starting to clog the air and John feels the need to speak overcome him.
“It’s an interesting technique you used to calm Iris.” John looks up and locks eyes with Sherlock, searching for confirmation of what he thinks was really happening.
“I can explain, it only started a year ago, see we haven’t done much — “ Sherlock eyes are stricken, he’s scared and John gets the confirmation he needs.
“I don’t need you to explain, Sherlock. It’s all fine.” He echoes the words from earlier at Angelo’s. Sherlock looks at him strangely, almost confused but John just smiles lightly. “Iris was clearly displaying territory nesting behavior, he was upset with all the different smells and it drove him into a panic trying to make everything smell right again. He wasn’t in his right mind, though it is interesting behavior from someone who is unpresented, or well stunted really. You gave him the familiar comfort that he needed, worked the stress out of him by giving him a pleasure to focus on, after all the displeasure that he had experienced. Nothing more.” Sherlock is stunned, John clearly saw what happened, something that society would find disgusting and he just explained it away as if the two of them scenting was normal.
Sherlock clears his throat. “You said he was stunted earlier, is that really something you can smell on him?” He steers the conversation in a slightly different direction, but stays close enough to try for subtle.
“I know I don’t need to describe to you that an Alpha’s nose is abnormally sensitive to all scents. Iris's scent is almost identical to your own, which means that he’s never been held by his parental Alpha, only by you which is what made his body choose the same scent. If you had been mated when he was conceived he would be more likely to have his own scent and if he had been touched by the Alpha he would be guaranteed to be different. But by having neither, his scent copied yours, making you less likely to abandon him as a child. It’s a defense mechanism, it’s becoming so common that the studies are starting to be published in official medical books.” Sherlock stares, willing John to go on. So, he does as he continues washing the last couple dishes, trying to be casual.
“The stunted scent is harder to describe, it’s unnatural, like false flavoring put in sweets. It’s probably a good thing, another defense mechanism since the virginal smell he would put off by himself drives most Alpha’s wild. The combination of the two together make him safer, letting potential mates know that even though he’s an Omega and unbonded, that he isn’t fertile and ready to breed yet.” John wipes his hands on a dish towel. Officially finished with the dishes, he isn’t completely sure where to look.
“I always thought it was a myth that Alpha’s could smell it, as if something really changed when an Omega mated for the first time.” Sherlock looks away, as if he himself knows barely anything about his own second gender.
“It’s a big change, Sherlock. In fact, Iris’s scent will change completely once he presents fully, it’s likely to be similar to your own but it will change and if he ever mates with an Alpha, taking a knot will erase the virginal smell. His body will have been changed from the experience, that’s why Omega’s are taught that a first knot will hurt as it breaks their body.” John looks worriedly at Sherlock, wondering why the Omega seems so clueless when he had seemed so intelligent during their hunt.
Sherlock turns fully away from John, his head hung low and his arms wrapped around his shoulders. He’s not sure what he said but Sherlock’s scent is upsetting, sour and unpleasant.
“Sherlock. I know all of this can be a big shock, a long time ago when Alpha’s were plentiful this information would have been common knowledge, but it’s all true. And I have one more thing I need you to know, before I officially take the room.” Sherlock turns around, his expression neutral, his scent betraying his worry.
“Iris will present officially if I stay here. I don’t know how long it will take, but exposure to my scent will cause him to go into heat. You’ll need to prepare him, we’ll need to have a plan for when it happens, I have good control but I don’t know if I could resist temptation if I was caught unaware. I don’t want to hurt him or do something worse that all of us would regret later.” Sherlock feels his heart clench, John has barely been in their lives a day and he’s already saved him from a murderer, ignored his and Iris’s perverse actions, and is concerned about all their futures together. How he let John in so quickly scares him as he stands in the familiar kitchen, the flat around already mixed with their scents.
“We’ll make a plan…” It’s the closest he can come to asking John to stay with them.
Chapter 2: Scent
John takes some time to himself in the bathroom and the Omega's have some time with each other.
Hey everyone, thanks for continuing onto the second chapter. I would like everyone to again take a careful look at the tags, specifically the underage (16) and incest (father/son) tags. If you have anything against either of these tags, it is time to turn back around, I will not be offended in the slightest. My work is completely based on fiction and I do not condone the behavior in it in real life, this is all just fantasy. This story has not been beta read, please feel free to point out inaccuracies and spelling errors.
I would like to point out to those who have expressed a dislike for my interpretation of the characters, that Sherlock is an Omega by gender but he is actually a switch in terms of sexual preference. For John, he is an Alpha by gender and dominate by preference, but is conflicted due to Sherlock saying he doesn't want a mate and Iris being young.
Please enjoy the second chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
It’s only been a few weeks but John feels more at home in 221B than he ever did anywhere else. The Holmes are fascinating, intelligent, and at least in Sherlock’s case, absolutely mad. He watches the Omega’s have conversations that boggle his mind, watches them perform strange experiments that make no sense, and he loves their creative spirit. Observing them as they observe the world around them is like watching great philosophers and scientists discover the truths of the world for the first time. John itches to write about them, to document their brilliance for the world, as Sherlock tries to do in his own blog.
The whole flat smells of their combined scents now and he’s finally able to breathe it all in without it going to his groin. Now it feels like comfort, covering everything like a warm blanket, perfectly mingled, the shady forest meeting the sun kissed meadow. It’s within this perfect blanket that he sits in his claimed chair, union jack pillow at his lower back and his hands full of overdue bills. He grabs the nearest newspaper, determining it’s new enough that the jobs section would still be someone relevant.
It pains him to look over the various menial jobs, knowing what he really needs is to find a hospital or clinic to work in, something that would use his actual skills. He briefly wonders if Mike would know of any jobs, and just like that he’s calling the Beta, hopeful that he could start somewhere fast enough to get these bills paid.
“Hey John.” He hears from the phone after a few rings, his friend sounds happy to hear from him.
He doesn’t beat around the bush, doesn’t feel like he has time. “Hey Mike. I was just calling you to thank you again for introducing me to Sherlock, the flat is great.” He taps his fingers against the arm of his chair.
“Always happy to help.” He sounds like he’s smiling.
“I was hoping you would have some more good fortune for me, I’m looking for a job, know of any.” He tries to come off sounding friendly but even his own ears pick up on the desperation.
“Well, you can’t teach like I can, sorry John.” His voice sounds genuinely apologetic.
“No, no. I’m not really much for teaching, but I was thinking maybe you would know of hospitals or clinics that might need extra help?” He runs his free hand though his lightly greying hair.
“Yeah, sure John, there’s always doctors switching practices and clinics are always understaffed, but the pay isn’t always the best in those.”
“That’s okay, just need something.” He sighs, knowing he might need to get two jobs if the first can’t provide enough.
“You know John, you’re an Alpha.” Mike says, sounding like he might be implying something. But John’s not really sure what it could be.
“Yeah, been one since I was thirteen?” He waits for Mike to elaborate.
“Well, you can always go into the breeding clinics, they’re always looking for new Alpha’s for the Mandate. They pay well and quickly, if you need fast money.” Blood rushes to John’s face and he stammers as he tries to reject his friends idea, barely stammering out a no thanks.
“It was just a thought. How about I send you over a list of all the hospitals and clinics, yeah?”
“Uh, yeah. That would be great Mike. Thanks.”
They hang up after a few more minutes of friendly chatting and John is mortified at the thoughts running through his head now that he’s not distracted. Mandate #25 required all omegas to have a child before they turn 30, as a way to get the population up after the devastating wars. Mostly, it was a hope that by all Omegas being forced to breed, it would result in more Alphas being born, since Omegas were more likely to produce them, even if the other parent was a Beta. The breeding clinics came after the Mandate, as a “safe” way of enacting the Mandate while simultaneously allowing no excuse for an Omega to not breed. Couldn’t find a partner? Just go to the clinic, we’ll pair you up and make sure to document which Alpha or Beta is the father, preventing inbreeding for the future.
The clinics allowed Omega’s to register for breeding, then once tested and cleared of STD’s and any other issues, they were scheduled to come in on their next heat, the time when they would be most fertile. At the same time, Alpha’s were highly encouraged, even if already mated, to also register and get cleared to be breeders. Alpha’s that registered and successfully breed Omega’s would be paid a nice sum for each successful mating, but they would have to give up all parental rights in exchange. They would never see the children or the Omega again, no names exchanged, no chance to see the children until they were older. If the child wanted to see their Alpha or Beta they could request from the clinic the information and if the Alpha or Beta allowed it they could be contacted. It became a popular media topic to have Alpha’s shown with all of their offspring whom contacted them years later. It made the whole project seem more human, less clinical, less enforced bureaucracy.
Mike’s implication that he could become a breeder has him blushing, realizing that he could get paid to in essence, get laid a bunch. The suggestion has him hot under the collar, making him realize that he hasn’t even touched himself in months, let alone had his knot buried in something sweet. He thinks about going to the clinic, knowing that he would easily be selected, as a new Alpha for their program. They would select Omegas, ones that would smell good to him and they would be in heat. Heat sex was always the best, even with his abnormal amount of control he could sometimes lose himself in it all, the Omega’s had always loved it when it happened as he would go absolutely feral on them. His usual calm demeanor replaced with the real Alpha inside him.
The dirty thoughts have John going hard in the living room and with that his brain latches onto the Omega scent surrounding him. Realizing he’s not going to be able to calm himself, he dodges into the bathroom, intent on pretending he’s just going to get a morning shower, to start the day. He starts the water and stripes efficiently, mildly annoyed that he couldn’t gather some clothes before he holed up in here, but he’s fortunate enough that Iris had a morning class and he hasn’t seen Sherlock all morning. The first spray of the steamy water feels surprisingly wonderful over his muscles and after a minute he reaches down to gently grab a hold of himself. It’s been so long that just the small bit of pressure feels like bliss, causing him to suck in his lower lip, biting down on it and slowly releasing. He’s not sure Sherlock isn’t around the house, so he needs to be quiet, but as he begins to slowly rub up the shaft he realizes that’s going to be harder than he thought, a low growl just barely slipping out.
He tries to listen to the house, but besides the shower he can’t hear anything else. Attempting another series of strokes to get himself fully hard he begins panting lightly, his head floating in pleasure. It’s been so long and even with the less than optimal conditions of the shower, he can’t help but feel himself release a bunch of arousal scent into the tiny bathroom. By the time he leaves no one would question what he was doing in here, but with the amount of cum he produces he needed an area with an easy clean up.
Bracing himself with his arm on the wall, he hunches over, letting the water splash across his back, shielding his now leaking cock. He slides his thumb through the precum spreading it around his head, a hiss between his teeth escaping. He’s always loved to toy with himself, to drag out the pleasure, not simply wanting to get on to the main event. Life was meant to be enjoyed and as he thumbed over the slit for more to spread he knows this is going to be a moment to remember.
The precum keeps coming as he continues circling the head, teasingly, gathering more and more as he slicks it further down his cock. The base is already slightly engorged, his knot won’t fully form without an Omega to take it, but the scent in the flat drives his body to try anyway. It’s always tempting to touch the knot, he knows it’s sensitive, and if he clamps his hand around it as if it were an Omega’s clenching hole he could get off instantly. But he holds off, doesn’t even slick it, afraid to end it all to soon.
He bites down on his lip again as be begins sliding his fingers down his length, the precum doing a good job of smoothing his way. It’s delicious the way his hand fits perfectly around his shaft, large enough that his hefty Alpha cock doesn’t feel neglected with only a single hand to cover it. It’s appealing just to look at really, watching his cock slip though his hand as he instead of moving his hand, begins to move his hips to push into his grip. The tip leaks more as he thrusts, his arousal heightening with the instinct to shove into something starting to take over. He’s no longer concerned with teasing himself, moving on to the main event as his inner Alpha growls in pleasure, seeking release. His pace quickens, hips moving with determination, shoving his knot against his fingers but not yet letting it through into his fist. Still on edge he pulls his other arm down, knows he’ll leak a bunch right before his knot inflates, perfect to slick his cock through his orgasm as his other holds the knot.
His anticipation drives him to finally let his knot slip half into his tight fist and he can’t help the deep snarl that leaves his mouth, as heat condenses low in his belly and he leaks an obscene amount of precum into his awaiting palm. The clear liquid coats his fingers, dribbles down around the digits, some falling to the floor. He rolls his hips almost violently then, shoving his knot fully into his fist and grinds into it, working his fist around the knot. His vision flickers as he cums aggressively across the bathroom tile, using his other newly slicked hand he pumps his shaft fast and hard, moans dropping from his mouth as his cum keeps flowing. He’s always been good at pumping himself for all he’s worth, loving how much he can produce, knows it can fill up an Omega’s belly, leaving a bump that he can feel through their skin. Just the thought has him tightening his grip on the knot more, watching himself as he continues to work the length. The knot is only about half of what it could be, but he’ll get off at least once more before it will go down.
He waits as his stream of cum tappers off, waiting for the moment when he’ll feel the second orgasm, waiting to do something he hasn’t done in months. The anticipation kills him every time, his cock throbs between his two hands and his mind drifts to a few weeks back, the unbidden image of Sherlock and Iris violently scenting each other playing in perfect clarity.
“Fuck…” He doesn’t mean to groan it out loud but the image is so dirty and yet he loves it. Loves the way Iris took a hold of Sherlock’s shirt, rubbing into him and taking deep breathes from his scent gland, imagines instead what it would look like if Iris licked at it, his tongue smoothing over the pale neck of his own father. John moves his hand slowly across his cock again, not even ashamed as he continues the fantasy, too gone in his own ecstasy to care what society would think of him.
The Sherlock of his fantasy is smoothing his hands over Iris’s back, rushed in his need to feel up the heated skin. The young Omega is clawing at his father’s shirt, ripping the buttons and fabric, whining high in his throat with want. The shirt is quickly shrugged off and as Sherlock’s arms come back around to hold, he lifts the boy up, letting him wrap his legs around his father’s hips, wiggling his ass against a very interested bulge. The smell is overwhelming, the two Omega’s clearly leaking slick as Sherlock grinds his hips against his son. The young omega is blushing red as his father picks him up, placing him down in front of John’s chair, and turning him around to bend him over, placing his face down into the chairs cushion. Iris moans as his nose is filled with John’s Alpha scent, which has sunk into the fabric.
Sherlock moans lightly at his son does, but concentrates on removing the boy’s clothes, tugging down pants and trousers in one motion. The kid is new to this, a virgin and he tries to cover up, pulling his legs together to shield his cock from view. But hands are on him too fast, Sherlock instead spreading the boys cheeks wide, presenting his dripping hole to his father’s intense gaze. The scent of the room is now almost too much, even the older Omega seems dazed by the sight and smell, but dives in to lick at the slick anyway, overwhelming his senses and moaning at the same time as Iris does, his hole being touched for the first time.
John can see how much Sherlock enjoys it, if the way his throat works to swallow the liquid down is anything to go by. It’s too much for him though, he doesn’t waste time to open his son up with his tongue, his own arousal greater than his need to taste further. He rids himself of his own cloths and drapes himself over the younger Omega, rubbing his hard cock over the hot hole, slicking himself up, getting ready to deflower his own blood.
John’s own breathy moan breaks though as his mind shows him Sherlock, sinking into Iris, his cock fitting snuggly into the young Omega, his fluttering hole swallowing up what it’s given. Greedy to be filled for the first time and even greedier to receive it from his Omega father. A quick pace is set from the onset, their arousal too strong to stop, sinful hisses and moans filling the room as the older Omega takes the younger, slamming into him forcefully, his hands spreading his son as far as he can, letting slick run down his thighs in thick rivets. Iris’s cock bobs below him, leaking precum onto the floor, drops falling obscenely from his untouched length.
The Omega’s don’t need words to know what the other wants, Sherlock can feel Iris as he quickly nears his first real completion, his hole clenching around his father’s cock which rams into him. Sherlock leans over changing the angle, but still not touching where the young Omega would want it, instead he licks over Iris’s scent gland and then latches on and sucks hard. The kid loses it, crying out loudly, as he orgasms on the spot, his dick twitching untouched as it spurts across the floor, clear and hot where it lands. Sherlock works Iris through it, never losing his pace as he grinds into him before finally coming himself, fucking his son the whole way though, letting out growls of pleasure as he shoves himself in one last time, deep as he can go, his cum reaching deep into Iris’s body.
John barely lasts though the last of his brains conjured images before his balls are emptying themselves the rest of the way. While the first orgasm is always more explosive the second is like a steady stream of cum which leaves his aching tip. His one fist continues grinding his knot for all its worth, while he works the other for the last time across his scorching length. He growls and curses through it all, losing himself to his Alpha side. As he feels himself finishing, his cum coming out less he removes his one hand cupping it to catch the last bit of his release. It’s always been his guilty pleasure to finish with a taste of himself. He quickly brings the cum to his lips, shoving it into his mouth with his fingers, fucking his mouth with his own cum, tongue licking between his fingers to get it all. It’s just the right amount of bitter and makes his knot throb once more as the taste envelopes his senses.
He continues holding the knot but doesn’t dare move, imaging it’s Sherlock’s tight slick hole clenched around it instead. Thoughts of how full the brilliant Omega would be with all the cum he just pumped out, his body naturally closing off after the mating, holding onto the release for days allowing John to feel the bump he left, knowing he owned the Omega’s womb, no one else able to claim him while he’s stuffed full of the Alpha’s cum. Sherlock would be guaranteed to be pregnant with John’s pup, and isn’t that a wonderful thought his inner Alpha purrs to him. Images of the beautiful detective in his bed, swollen with his child, mating mark on his beautifully pale neck. It’s so strange to think about but he really likes the Omega, loves his mind and would be lucky to have him as his own. Lucky to have both of them as his own, because next to Sherlock lies Iris and now his mind sees a slightly older Iris wrapped around his knot his silky insides milking John for his seed, the teenager begging him to fill him with a pup like his father, a matching mating mark on the younger. Sherlock’s rubbing Iris’s stomach where a bump of John’s cum can be felt. The Omega’s purring together with delight, wrapped up underneath their Alpha, protected in their shared nest.
It’s takes longer than usual but John’s knot finally goes down and he releases it, too overly sensitive from the life altering experience he just had with himself. Thinking about it he feels like he should feel dirty about his fantasies, or upset with how much he wants both Omega’s after such little time with them and how they’re both male, territory which he has never in fact gone, even with his Three Continents Watson title. But surprisingly he doesn’t feel any of these things, calm after his orgasm, he actually does manage to shower like the tube is supposed to be used for, trying to get the scent of arousal off himself, even as the bathroom reeks of pine forest.
When he exits the shower, no one seems home and he quickly makes his way to his room, getting dressed and heading out. At first he’s not sure where he’s going, suddenly energized by his over indulgence, he goes walking. When he comes across a breeding clinic in his walking, he only hesitates a moment before walking in, filling out the paperwork and getting an appointment to come back for the blood work, etc. ‘He might as well get registered, even if he never decides to come back, maybe if he does he can get his mind off the twin Omegas.’ He thinks to himself.
Iris comes home early, his only class for the day ending due to an emergency on the professors part. The man had nearly fainted when the office called down to let him know his wife had gone into labor. He didn’t even bother assigning them anything, so like the rest of the class he filed out, happy to have one less hour of class.
The journey home was nothing new, but as he opens the door to the flat his nose is positively assaulted with John’s fresh pine scent. His head swims as he tries to figure out what’s going on. John’s scent had been strong for the past several weeks, slowing becoming more tolerable. Iris had had to be careful not to shove his nose into John’s claimed chair more than once and he knew the Alpha was affected just as much, if the bulge in his trousers for those weeks was anything to go by. He had been careful not to get caught staring at the Alpha over the top of his books, where he was always reading on the couch.
It was hard not to observe him, Alpha’s were so rare, the only one he knew was Lestrade and the man had been around his whole life, he was like an Uncle to Iris. But John, John was something new and interesting, Alpha but not over bearing and brutish like Alpha’s were always described as. The books he read spoke of aggressive Alpha’s, willing to take and claim Omega’s with little to no consent, always believing themselves to be the better part of the species, even if they had been 10% of the population at most in their peak. Their aggressive natures are what made them perfect for the wars, many people now believed that it was because of Alpha’s that the wars started and that everyone was better off without them.
Alpha’s were now like weird celebrities, turning heads as they walked down the street. Many had accepted the strange elevated status, becoming government breeders, paid to live a life of luxury while impregnating as many Omega’s as they could. John could have lived that type of life, but he didn’t, he became a doctor and went to war as a healer. Iris had been able to coax John into talking to him about being a doctor, mostly about medical school, he wouldn’t really talk about Afghanistan, but the stories he told conveyed just how intelligent he was in his subject. He wasn’t pompous about his knowledge and while he obviously wasn’t intelligent in the way Iris or his father was John wasn’t an idiot by any means.
The Alpha was warm and inviting, his smile was always relaxed and he watched the Omega’s with fascination and wonder where others sneered at them in misunderstanding. Iris spent his whole life watching others mistreat his father, judging him harshly for his strangeness. But not John, the strong pine scented Alpha, so unassuming in his comfy jumpers, drinking tea in his chair, it made Iris want to cuddle into his chest, lay all over him on a lazy warm Sunday. He knew that the Alpha was dangerous, his father had let him know what John had done that first day, defending Sherlock in the most brutal way you could, taking the life of another. It didn’t scare him, only pushed his fascination further, but even his fascination couldn’t compare to that of his father’s.
He’s never seen Sherlock act differently for anyone, even Lestrade could barely contain him to some semblance of normalcy on any given day, and Iris would consider him the closest thing his father has to a real friend. So, to see his dad obviously thrown off by the presence of the Alpha is a true wonder. The older Omega had become careful about his actions, not willing to walk about in nothing but a sheet, subtly breathing in when John walked by, and most concerning of all, keeping his experiments to an almost acceptable level of weirdness. His father was clearly smitten with the Alpha but unwilling to do anything about it, yet.
Accidentally taking another deep breathe is pure torture as Iris’s senses go into over drive. He slams the door behind him, dropping his bag somewhere in the living room and goes in search of the heavenly scent. It doesn’t take long for him to find it coming from the bathroom, the whole place reeking of a musky forest, so potent he drops to his knees, realizing his cock is swelling uncomfortably. From his spot of the floor he can see John’s clothes in a pile on the ground, the Alpha didn’t usually leave them behind, but they had obviously been removed in a hurry and he had forgotten to take them with him when he was done.
He crawls to the pile, grabbing the shirt where John’s scent gland would have rubbed against the collar. The dirty idea to rub himself all over with it is all he can think of and the thrilling spike of arousal that shoots up his spine is like nothing he’s felt before. But he can’t do it here, needs to get to the nest in his shared room. Up on his legs he wobbles to the bedroom finding his father laid out with only a sheet wrapped around him surrounded by the countless blankets and pillows that make up their shared nest. He’s clearly lost in his mind palace, but his body is affected by the scent of the flat all the same, if his hard cock raising the sheet is anything to go by.
Iris snickers to himself, knows his father always acts so unaffected by John’s scent, but he knows the truth, sees details just like the detective does, sees how the older Omega tries to hide his want to submit to the blonde Alpha. John is a good person, has been awed by Sherlock in so many ways, even an idiot could see that the man is special, is different than Alpha’s are supposed to be, in the best way possible. Iris himself couldn’t have picked a better person to offset his father, to keep him grounded in the way John seems to be slowly doing. But being truthful to himself, as he always tries to be, Iris knows he harbors his own crush on the older Alpha, has been only slightly disappointed that he’s young and John would be more likely to mate Sherlock instead of himself, if he even got the courage to do that.
Throwing the shirt into the nest, Iris rids himself of his school clothes, tossing them aside without care. He climbs in next to Sherlock and begins rubbing his body all over the shirt, shimmying around to get the scent all over his skin. His quick movements must have alerted his father as he hears his voice.
“Iris?” He questions, eyes blinking open, searching the room. They land on the young Omega just as he takes the shirt from underneath of him and drapes it across his chest, smoothing his hands slowly over the material. “What are you doing, what’s going on?” His questions fall on deft ears as Iris lets out a needy whine, his cock leaking clear precum onto the shirt, the tip an angry red with how aroused he is. The impulse hits him suddenly to scent himself on the fabric, he goes to bring the collar of the shirt to his own scent gland, but he’s stopped with hands on both of his wrists.
“You can’t.” His father’s deep rich voice resonates in his chest. “You can’t do that, if you scent yourself everyone will know, you’ll smell like John for weeks.”
Iris whines high in his throat. “Dad, he’s practically scented us from just being in the house. We smell like him all the time, I can’t get his scent off my clothes. I keep having people at Uni questioning me, wondering why I smell like an Alpha. Some of them even try to get close to my neck, thinking I’ve presented as an Alpha and that the Omega scent on me is just you.” He wiggles around, trying to get Sherlock to let go of him. The older Omega, let’s go but grabs the shirt, draping it over Iris to cover him up before laying down on him, his solid weight pushing the smaller Omega into their nest.
Iris lets out a small moan as he feels his father’s cock line up with his own, through the thin fabric of John’s shirt. They’ve never been this close before, the two Omega’s only crossing so many boundaries before today. It all started less than a year ago, it was a pretty normal day, but Iris had been particularly energetic, he wasn’t sure why but he had somehow gotten into a fun wrestling match with Sherlock. He won, pinning his father to the inside of their shared nest, then bent down to shove his face into the pillow beside him as he tried to catch his breathe. However, when he did so, his scent gland had brushed against his father’s skin, sending a shiver down his spine, pleasure spiking though his body.
The next thing he knew he was gripping onto his father’s shoulders and shoving his neck into the other Omegas, searching for another feeling of that sweet friction. Surprisingly, Sherlock let him, didn’t protest the strange cat like nuzzling behavior that had come over him. He would later realize it was because the older Omega was close to his heat and had himself gotten lost in the pleasure of the scenting. He had however come back in time to grab Iris’s hips raising them off him as the kid had begun to lightly grind his hips into his father’s stomach, his cock starting to fill out with arousal.
Iris was mortified when he pulled back up and looked down at Sherlock, his black curly hair disheveled, his eyes blown wide with lust but aware enough to stop his son from continuing. He had tried to quickly apologize, stammering out words, attempting to explain what he was doing, but he had been shushed and told it was okay, his father’s rich voice calm and filled with understanding. Getting up he excused himself to the bathroom, covering his front with his hands, face red with embarrassment. Attempting to calm himself down, he runs a cold shower, standing under the spray willing his shameful boner to wither away. It wasn’t working, his cock decidedly still interested. Eventually, he had simply turned the water to scalding and jerked himself off while rubbing the heal of his other hand against his scent gland. He rarely indulged in masturbating, the urge rarely cropping up his brain usually preoccupied with more academic endeavors. His legs gave out half way though, forcing him to his knees, bent over and fisting his cock like his life depended on it, he had whined and moaned on all fours like a bitch in heat as he finally found that sweet release across the bottom of the tub. Looking back, that’s the moment he should have realized he was an Omega.
The next day, he had researched everything he could on scent glands and the pleasure of them, eventually finding out that scenting was supposed to be reserved for those who were dating or mated, something not to be done between family members. His cheeks had gone red in the library realizing that he had essentially begun masturbating using his father, but Sherlock hadn’t stopped him immediately and at one point had even nuzzled back. The thought had Iris blushing further, the pleasure of the encounter still fresh in his memory.
He didn’t enter their nest for a few days, his father going into heat made it so Iris had to make his own temporary nest in the living room. He never minded doing this, he liked making his own nest, it was comforting having a little space to his own for a few days sometimes, let him be with his own thoughts. When it was time to finally see his father a few days later, Sherlock didn’t talk about it, didn’t mention it as he cleared the bed of the slick covered sheets and remade their usual nest. Iris didn’t forget though, so when he went to bed that night he made sure to sleep on the edge, not allowing a single point of contact between him and his father, whereas before he wouldn’t have even thought about it. It was really painful to stay away those first few nights, he had always been a cuddler just like his father would never admit to being as well. He would barely sleep those nights, thinking how this must be the normal progression for most children, to eventually have to leave the nest bed when they became physically uncomfortable with the thought of sleeping next to their parents. The moment they realized they wanted their own space, he was just much later than most.
Being around the flat was even worse, he couldn’t stop watching Sherlock, eyes trained on him whenever he thought the detective wasn’t watching. He knows he’s not as observant as his father, but he tries, tries to figure out how he should be feel about the encounter, how the other Omega feels about the encounter. He feels shame to admit that he liked it, hates that it eats away at his thoughts for so long and that he gets no answer in return.
He didn’t ask for his own nest, so a few weeks later he found himself lazing about in their nest, no classes at Uni that day and it was beautifully warm outside, the spring air coming in through the open windows. He had stripped down to just his pants, intent on doing nothing all day but laying in comfort and thinking of nothing for once. His father walked in at some point but he didn’t really pay attention, far too relaxed to care what the older Omega was up to. It wasn’t until Sherlock climbed into the nest that Iris tensed up, remembering suddenly why he hadn’t been able to relax in so long. He turned his head toward him watching as his father got comfortable, facing toward his son, they made eye contact for just a moment before Iris looks down, cheeks heating up in shame. But he didn’t get much time before a hand was wrapping around his neck, a thumb lightly running over his gland, teasing pleasure.
He hissed in a breathe through his teeth at the first touch his eyes shooting open to look questionably at the older Omega. What he found were eyes that looked exactly like his own, so light blue they could almost be considered gray. But it wasn’t the color that had him rethinking what happened all those weeks ago, no it was the uncertainty that radiated in them the same as his own. Sherlock was unsure of himself, touching in a way he knew was wrong but that he clearly wanted in some strange way. Iris could have pulled back, told his father off for touching him, but he didn’t, he had been craving that feeling but unwilling to ask for something so supposedly disgusting. His father had clearly read him, saw his desires and when he wouldn’t act on them, decided he would step up. Instead of backing of Iris closed his eyes and tilted his neck up into the pressure before opening his eyes back up to stare straight into his fathers with a look he hoped conveyed how much he desired more.
He must have done a good job because his father let out a shaky breathe, moving closer and laying his own neck into Iris’s, just resting the two together, testing the water. They lay there like that, not moving just barely touching, the only contact their necks, slow breathes the only sound. Realizing his father wasn’t going to move he took the initiative and moved first, just lightly undulating back and forth, letting the pressure intensify as he pushed up against his father’s weight. It was intoxicating how much just the small movements sent desire down his spine and into his belly. Sherlock moved with him causing the pleasure to intensify to the point that Iris began panting, his erection had come on fast, straining in his pants. But other than their necks they still weren’t touching and the thought of masturbating in front of his father seemed like a step too far for something this fragile. It wasn’t long after that Sherlock would slow them down getting up without a word and leaving Iris alone, the warm breeze still coming in through the window, life continuing as if nothing happened.
As soon as the door clicked shut and footsteps leaving could be heard Iris had his hand wrapped around his cock, gripping tight and flipping onto his stomach to shove his soon to be moaning mouth into his pillow. He barely had any room to move his hand between himself and the mattress but the position just felt right and it wasn’t more than a few dry tugs anyway before he was coming into his pants, his balls tight against his body, hot spurts leaving his tip, and his father’s touch on his mind.
From there their little sessions would happen infrequently, always happening at random times and never progressing much farther than that first time. It would be months later when the pleasure would become too much that Iris finally crossed the next line, reaching into his pants while still scenting. He had intended just to hold himself but had instead begun stroking and moaning, his father taking the hint and doing the same, both still confined in their pants, they came together but cleaned up separately after catching their respective breathes. At no point had they ever spoken about it, both of them able to read each other so well that words would be worthless. After John had witnessed them scenting in the sitting room Iris had wanted to die from embarrassment the next day, unwilling to make eye contact with the Alpha, afraid he was going to reveal their secret and get them in trouble. But his father was always one step ahead, he didn’t let Iris suffer letting him know that John had said he was okay with it but not to mention it to him.
Now as he lay below his father, cocks almost touching for the first time, he knows he’s ready for the next line to be crossed. He looks up at his father with lust, letting the detective deduce his wants from his hooded eyes. Oh and he wants this just as much as he wants the older Alpha, craves this inappropriate touch, his inner Omega, which he had begun to feel stronger, purred as Sherlock nodded and lowered his neck to begin their scenting. The first touch had both their cocks throbbing together, Iris’s dribbling more precum into the fabric which allowed for the head to slide deliciously when he barely thrusted his hips just the slightest bit up against the weight of his father’s lean form.
Sherlock hums low in his throat, the vibrations sending shivers across Iris’s whole body, prompting him to grind up a little harder, finding a rhythm as his father begins to push back against him rolling his hips erotically. Iris is almost stunned when all the sudden the older Omega speaks.
“Such a bad boy, trying to scent an Alpha that’s not yours.” He punctuates his sentence by removing his neck and replacing the pressure on Iris’s gland with his thumb, massaging it harshly. “So dirty, taking his clothes without his permission, rubbing yourself all over them.” Iris moans hard, his eyes rolling back as the filthy words process in his brain, he never thought he would like talking but as his dick throbs he realizes he loves it. They had never spoken during their encounters, always silent except for the light moans. Now it seems the flood gates were open as Sherlock continued, lowering his head to just barely above his sons, whispering words against his lips with warm breathes.
He takes Iris’s face in his other hand, stroking along his jaw. “How do you think the Alpha would react if he saw us with his shirt, wrapped around our cocks, rutting against each other like a couple of in heat Omegas? Do you think he would he would be bold, run in ready to knot us with how desperate we must seem.” Iris’s feels overwhelmed, doesn’t know what to say, barely stutters out a yes before his father is pulling the fabric out from between their cocks, shoving it back down so that they’re both on the same side, skin touching silky skin for the first time. It’s too much, so raw and Iris feels like he’s going to cum but Sherlock, ever the perceptive one grabs him at the base, holding the boy off and preventing him from releasing too quickly.
The young Omega whines, arching his back trying to find the delicious friction, his orgasm so close just to be ripped away. Sherlock doesn’t make him wait too long, before removing his hand and allowing Iris to rut his cock up against the silky smooth skin of his father’s abdomen.
“Not yet, just a bit longer little Omega, I’m going to make this so good for you. Make your first time the best ever.” Iris opens his eyes at those words, searching his father’s gaze which is intense and focused on his face.
“Please.” He’s not sure what he’s asking for the word tumbling from his mouth, but it just feels right to ask. The word spur Sherlock on, he reaches back and gathers slick from himself, not realizing how much had been pouring out of him, but glad to have it. He comes back and just barely moves his hips off of Iris’s, taking both their leaking cocks into his hand, spreading the slick over them both. Iris is whining and panting beneath him, never having been touched before by anyone, it’s intense and drives the young Omega wild. His hips trying to trust up, greedily seeking more friction.
“Look at you, so ready to take whatever I give you, just like a good Omega should. John would be lucky to have such a good boy to knot.” He grips harder on the last word, sliding faster along their lengths, his own cock ready to burst, but trying to hold off just a bit longer to enact his plan. “Our skins going to smell like him for days, if he got between your legs he’d be able to smell himself on your cock, it would drive him wild with want for you.” Iris is lost to the pure pleasure, his skin is on fire, unsure of what to even do with himself, his thoughts coming to him slower with each stroke of his father’s hand. He bites at his lips and fists his own hands into the sheets of the nest below them, Sherlock’s dirty words having the desired power over him. “He’d mount you right where you were, take you without hesitation, claim you as his own.” The young Omega practically howls at the thought of being pinned down by the Alpha, submitting body and soul for the Alpha to take as he pleases. Iris’s head whips back and forth, his cock throbbing, words falling from his lips, little breathy yes’s and moans, it’s so perfect.
Sherlock can’t hold himself back any longer, he leans down and locks his lips onto his sons, stealing the boys first kiss. At the same time, he focuses on his own cock, letting Iris’s go as he pulls back orgasming against the young Omega’s cock, coating the shaft in his clear cum. He detaches his lips before Iris can even begin to kiss back, he’s panting and the ecstasy of his orgasm has his head fuzzy, but he forces himself to move, sliding his own cock aside, ready to concentrate on Iris alone.
“It’s your turn baby Omega, you ready for it?” He doesn’t expect an answer and Iris gives him none, only continues to moan and squirm. Sherlock takes the young Omegas cock, now coated in not only his father’s slick but also his cum and viciously fists it. “You’re being so good for me now, I’m going to let you cum all over the Alpha’s shirt. You want to cum my baby, ready to make a mess of your already messy self. All dirty with my cum on your cock.” His voice is so deep and it send shivers down Iris’s spine.
Iris barely nods his head, letting out a whine, his balls tight as his body is played perfectly. Sherlock can tell it will only take another moment but has to get in one more comment. “Come on little Omega, show me how much you love my hand on your pretty little cock, cum for your dad.” He grabs Iris by the hair and yanks his head back exposing his pale neck then latching his lips around the young Omegas gland and he sucks for all he’s worth. Iris blacks out, his eyes rolling back and his cock pulsing out thick ribbons of cum, which Sherlock mixes with his own as he continues to fist the boys cock. The moans Iris let’s out speak of pure debauchery, he’s lost himself and it’s deliciously sinful how much Sherlock loves it, how much he loves to feel the pulses of his sons cock in his hand and it takes a lot of strength to finally stop touching as Iris whines lightly in over sensitivity.
After what feels like forever Iris’s brain comes back from whatever paradise he had gone to, and back to the reality of Baker street. “Fuck.” It’s the only thing Iris feels like he can say after what just transpired. There’s no denying now what’s happening between them, they’re so far into this sick twisted pleasure that the expletive seems like the only appropriate reaction.
His father hums in his throat before releasing his lips from their hold, giving one last long lick over his throat. Iris’s scent gland will have a deep bruise around it tomorrow, but he doesn’t really care. What he does care about is the shirt still between them, now soaked in their sweat, cum, and Sherlock’s slick. He gently eases off of Iris, getting up onto his knees to look down at the blissed out kid below him. His black curls are both wild around his head and plastered to his forehead, his eyes are bright and open, drinking in Sherlock's own appearance. The shirt below is drenched and clinging to Iris’s lithe form, laying on top of the fabric is his softened cock, covered in their drying fluids Sherlock can’t help but want to touch it again.
After all they’ve just been though, he might as well. He moves himself a bit to put his own softened cock next to Iris’s and gently takes them both in his hand, giving them a squeeze and gathering the fluids to rub into Iris’s stomach. Normally an Alpha would do the same thing, rubbing his cum on his mates body, claiming his territory with such a dominate act. It’s a weird sensation to put their most intimate parts together like this when they’re soft but it makes the young Omega giggle and Sherlock can’t help but chuckle in that baritone voice right back.
“We’re going to have to wash this shirt a million times before John won’t pick up on what happened to it. His sense of smell is way too good, I’ll hand wash it now, but we’ll have to dry it in here.” The plan forming in his head now of how he’ll get it past John that he just happened to find the Alpha’s shirt in their laundry.
“Should just throw it away, or maybe we can just keep it for ourselves?” Iris questions, finally releasing his hands from the sheets his runs them up his father’s thighs, feeling the soft hairs on his pale skin. Is tempted to keep going, to take his father in his hands, he was so overwhelmed the whole time he didn’t get to touch back. “Once we wash it of course, I’m sure it will still smell like John even after.” He’s not sure where the boldness comes from but he likes the idea of keeping something of the Alphas.
“We’ll see. Now let’s get up, John could be home at any time and we both wreak of sex. I don’t think John would believe we both got laid on the same day and don’t smell like other people.” Sherlock gets up, his legs a little wobbly as he sets
them on the floor, he turns around and gathers up the soiled shirt.
“I thought he knew about us…kind of.”
“He does, but we’ve never done what we just did, I’m not trying to advertise it either.” He helps Iris’s up with the hand not holding the shirt and the young Omega stands on two feet well enough. He looks down at the floor but the next words stun Sherlock a bit as he takes in the blushing boy.
“Even so, I really liked it. Would really like it again…” He buries his hot face in his hands and tries not to make eye contact with his father, instead quickly walking past him and into the bathroom to turn on the shower. Unlike their last times together they shower with each other, it seems almost strangely intimate after what they just did, but it’s delightful. Each of them taking turns to wash the other, running soap delicately over sensitive skin removing as best they can the smell of Alpha and each other. It makes Iris a little sad to remove the beautiful scents, he wants to have his whole being smell like them every day. At one point he turns around, a little wearily but gains confidence when he sees his father’s eyes shine and his small smile.
“You kissed me before.” He states it and Sherlock just nods calmly. “Can…can you kiss me again? Please?” Just like before it feels so right to ask, he hadn’t been able to respond to the first and only kiss they shared, so concentrated on the pleasure he had barely felt it, mind going wild as he felt his father cum on him.
Sherlock smiles shyly, taking Iris’s face in both hands and giving him a chaste kiss, before licking over his lips, getting them to lightly part before licking again, this time into his sons mouth. Iris breathes heavily in through his nose at the first contact, the new sensation so wonderfully warm. He catalogs the feeling of his father soft cupid’s bow lips in the back of his mind, sure he could get off on just the feeling of them against his own lips. It takes a moment before Iris moves his tongue for the first time, sticking it out just barely before dragging it against his fathers. He’d be getting hard again if he hadn’t just cum a few minutes ago, his quick refractory period isn’t quiet that fast. The kiss isn’t the rushed passion of lovers, even if he could now call them just that. It’s slower and makes his heart flutter and his head spin as the kiss continues, their warm tongues dancing together, a delicate push and pull that leaves them both breathless and wanting more. Let’s them know that whatever it is that’s developing between them is desired, that it’s by no means one sided or being forced upon the other. It takes time for Sherlock to finally pull back with a smile, seeing Iris completely wrecked, his eyes hooded with desire. He leans in one last time gently kissing Iris’s soft cupids bow that matches his own so perfectly.
John returns later looking chipper from his walk around London. Sherlock stares into his microscope and Iris reads a book on the couch as usual. If the Alpha sniffs the air a little too much before settling himself on his chair, the Omega’s pretend not to notice. Just a normal day in the flat.
As always, please let me know what you think by adding a comment. I hope you enjoyed. I enjoyed writing it and I'm pretty sure you could drown me in holy water now and I'd just come back up hissing and screeching. <3
Chapter 3 snippet:
“Sherlock!” He demands in a half growl, using just a hint of Alpha authority.
The Omega jumps, then recovers giving John a nasty look, eyes cutting deep as he gets up to his full height, trying to tower of the Alpha. John isn’t impressed, knows Sherlock can get away with the dominate act on all the Beta’s and Omega’s around, but he’s standing up against a real Alpha now and John lets him know, staring right back unwavering.
Chapter 3: Meeting an Alpha
Sherlock and John have their talk, a murder is on the lose and John learns more about the clinics...
Hey everyone, thanks for continuing onto the next chapter, I've had to break The Blind Banker into two parts in order to keep the chapters roughly the same length, so this is part 1. As always my work is completely based on fiction and I do not condone the various behaviors portrayed in it in real life, this is all just fantasy. Please feel free to point out inaccuracies and spelling errors and I will change them.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
The list that Mike sends over is shorter than John had hoped but he diligently begins typing up his first real curriculum vitae ever. It’s not that he hasn’t made a resume in the past, but he was a teenager applying for a summer jobs, not a professional doctor with military experience. As he chicken pecks along, writing in each of his specific qualifications Iris comes out of the Omega’s bedroom going into the kitchen to begin making his morning tea. His scent wafts into the sitting room, letting John know like every morning that he’s living with two enticing unbonded Omegas and… is that a hickey!? The Alpha does a double take when Iris turns to the fridge, a large bruise evident on his scent gland, round and clearly made by an eager mouth.
He quickly turns back to the laptop, trying not to smirk at the confirmation of his suspicions from yesterday. When John had come home last night he was annoyed to smell his own arousal still hanging around in the air, embarrassed but willing to ignore it since his two flat mates appeared to be doing the same. As he entered further in the house though, getting close to Iris on the couch, he realized that his arousal wasn’t the only one in the air. The sweet enticing smell of Omega pheromones was evident in the air and with no other scents than two the Omegas in front of him, he knew something had happened.
His Alpha rumbled to him that they liked him, wanted him as their Alpha, got themselves worked up because of his scent. He pushed the Alpha aside telling himself he’s not surprised they got excited, the flat was drenched in his dark earthy arousal, only incompatible Omega’s wouldn’t be affected by it. Sherlock and Iris just got caught up in the pheromones, Sherlock was married to his work and Iris, and Iris was too young for him anyway. But something kept nagging at the back of his mind, he’d smelled himself on Iris, their scents mingled more than usual and it was confusing because later when he walks past Sherlock it’s the same exact thing. The strong scent of pine and meadow grass mixed together, intoxicating and fresh, as if he had scented the Omega’s, oh and what strength it take taken him not to run his nose over Sherlock’s slender neck last night. To absolutely bury himself in his lovely smell and actually scent him properly, hold him down by those slender hips.
Soon enough Iris is rummaging around the house, school bag in hand, slinging books and papers in with no sense of order. His outfit is fine except that it doesn’t cover the mark on his neck and with his heavier than usual combined scent, John knows assumptions are going to be made. He can’t let the young Omega go out without covering up, feels a sense of urgency to protect him from questioning. As Iris finishes tying his shoes, John gets up and goes to the coat rack, grabbing Sherlock’s signature blue scarf. He feels the soft fabric knowing it smells like Sherlock, it will hide the mark and smell like Omega enough that maybe John’s scent will fade.
Iris walks toward the door, shoes firmly in place, but John steps in his way, blocking the door. Iris does well to hold his ground, no fear evident even with the Alpha standing in his way, his eyes narrowed and striking like when they were met.
“John?” He quirks an eyebrow, looking questioningly at the rugged face, deducing him just like Sherlock does. The Alpha’s deep blue eyes are pinched together, concerned, at the same time his nostrils are wide taking in extra air, scenting heavily, trying to determine something from the air.
Instead of answering the Alpha brings up the scarf up and wraps it around the teen’s neck, lightly tightening it and running his hand over it, smoothing it down. He leans in, speaking quietly in Iris’s ear. “Best to keep that on, yeah. Don’t want any questions.” Just as quickly he leans back, looking the boy over, the scarf adding to how much he resembles his father from his dark curly hair and pale skin, right down to the high cheek bones and light blue-grey eyes. In the next years he’ll probably grow just a bit taller and lose that last bit of boyhood charm, he’s going to be just as beautiful as Sherlock. Iris looks taken aback, his eyes changing into the softer innocent doe eyes that the teen had been giving him lately, John had noticed them more and more as they got to know each other. The teen is blushing furiously his face pooling hot blood into his cheeks, realizing that he had forgotten about the mark on his neck.
“Ah, thank you, John.” He couldn’t even look up at him, too afraid to accidentally deduce something more from his handsome face. John was observant and protected him, using the scarf was a perfect cover. The Alpha was so smart, it made Iris want to melt.
Stepping aside John wishes Iris a ‘good day’ and gets a small, ‘you too’ in return. The Alpha watches the young Omega descend the stairs, he realizes as he watches the boy walk away that Sherlock and he hadn’t been able to design out their plan for Iris’s first heat. He had been so caught up in the couple cases he had gone on since the first big one, none as exciting but John thought that was probably a good thing, if he had to shoot someone every time he might eventually get caught.
Going back inside, he gets back at his resumes, sending them off one by one, until he hears the telltale sign that Sherlock has gotten up. It’s a flurry of movement as a blue robed streak runs into the sitting room, grabbing up an experiment that John hadn’t even realized was under that stack of books before shoving it under a the large microscope. John gets up to make tea, determined to get something into Sherlock for breakfast, the detective was so thin, his Alpha instinct to provide felt like it was constantly on whenever it came to the detective.
Finishing the tea with a large helping of cream he sets it next to Sherlock who hasn’t moved from his position looking into the microscope the entire time. John thinks the man could live his whole life looking into that thing and never be unhappy. He clears his throat, intent on using the moment to finally bring about some discussion. “Sherlock.” The detective doesn’t notice him, or more likely is ignoring him. “Sherlock!” He demands in a half growl, using just a hint of Alpha authority.
The Omega jumps, then recovers giving John a nasty look, eyes cutting deep as he gets up to his full height, trying to tower of the Alpha. John isn’t impressed, knows Sherlock can get away with the dominant act on all the Betas and Omegas around, but he’s standing up against a real Alpha now and John lets him know, staring right back unwavering.
“You used your Alpha voice.” Sherlock slowly says.
“Yes.” John licks his lips. “Just a little.”
“Why?” The single word cuts like a knife, Sherlock obviously upset that John used his Alpha dominance.
“We need to talk about Iris, before you run off on a new case, or I come home to a flat full of heat pheromones.” John notices that when he says the word home Sherlock’s lips just barely started to curl into a smile but fall back to flat quickly.
“We can just find you a place to stay for a few nights, why not your friend Mike, he’s a Beta. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you kipping at his place for two days, maybe three if it’s a bad one.” Sherlock knows his own heats tend to be short, he got lucky compared to the Omegas that have four or more days, and if Iris is anything like him then he’ll be done quickly as well.
“That’s not the major issue Sherlock and you know it. I can find a place to stay, I’m worried about after.”
“After? After what, John? He’ll be back to normal and when the next heat comes we can just do the same thing.” Sherlock is mildly confused his eyes betraying it, they’re wide and searching John’s for answers.
John himself just sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, realizing he’s going to have to spell it all out. It’s awkward, especially with Iris being so young he hates that he’s so affected by the scent of the two of them, it makes everything so complicated. “Sherlock, I told you before that I can smell that he’s stunted and a virgin, that the two scents together neutralize my instincts, but once he has that first heat, he won’t be stunted anymore. He’ll just be virginal and even out of heat he will smell…” John’s not sure what he wants to say, tempting comes to mind but he doesn’t want to feel that way about Iris. His fantasies need to stay just that, as fantasies. The kid is less than half his age and has his whole life ahead of him. John would never want to tether the young Omega to himself, just an old Alpha. Well, he shouldn’t put himself down too much, he is still under forty, for two more years and the grey hair was distinguishing. He starts again “he will smell…virginal too all suiters.”
“What would you have me do, you don’t exactly find young Alpha’s roaming the streets, invite them in for a cuppa and ask them to screw the virgin scent out of your son!” Sherlock, is visibly annoyed, raising his voice and waving his arms a bit undignified, which is strange for the usually careful Omega.
John growls, anger pheromones pouring off of him as he thinks of a strange Alpha knotting his young Omega. ‘No not his, calm down.’ He blinks at Sherlock’s concerned face, he’s backed down at the outburst, the usual forest pine scent tainted and unpleasant. John takes a deep breath and calmly says “I’m not saying that at all Sherlock.”
“Then what do you want? You seem fine when you’re out in public, I’m sure you have virgin Omega’s walk past you every day and you don’t seem to be going crazy Alpha all the time, I don’t know why Iris would need protection from you. You care for him John, I know you do. You have been acting like a second parental figure since you got here. Apologizing for making him uncomfortable the first day, inquiring to where he is to make sure he’s safe, you even make sure to always bring home food for him when we are out.” Sherlock is determined to make John see that he would never hurt or do anything against Iris’s wishes.
“You’re right Sherlock, I care about Iris a lot, just like I care for you.” He gestures toward the tea, sat cool by now next to the microscope. Sherlock’s face does a funny thing when he looks at it, only just realizing it was there. His face softens a bit and he looks back at John with a bit less intensity.
“I care about both of you and I would never want to hurt either of you. I have good control of myself, I admit that I learned that through the fights my sister and I got into over the Omegas she would bring home and later in the military when I had to treat unbonded Omegas. But you both don’t smell like those Omega’s, yeah they usually smelled nice, but the two of you are different, both almost too much for me. And I don’t go crazy on the street not because I have control, but because virgin Omega’s are rare now a days.”
“How would they be rare, John, Omega’s are plentiful and there’s not enough Alpha’s around to be knotting them all.” Sherlock voice is dripping with skepticism but he’s at least somewhat calmer than before.
“Most Omegas in modern times break the scent on their own during the first heat by accident, using inflatable toys.” John decidedly looks away from Sherlock as he says it. Imagining the detective doing exactly that when he was young, but then realizing that Sherlock didn’t seem like the type, always calling his body “transport” and never taking care of himself to the point of starvation.
“What…?” John looks back and watches as his statement seems to break Sherlock’s big brain as he connects some unseen dots.
John starts talking to fill the space. “Again you’re completely right, there aren’t enough Alpha’s to go around, even if alpha’s start taking on multiple Omega’s and making packs again it would still be 15 to 1. But an Omega doesn’t need a real knot to break their body and make it think they’ve been…breed.” He says the last bit was a breathier sigh.
Sherlock is silent for a long while, his eyes wide and darting back and forth in concentration. John is almost certain he’s lost the detective to the strange zoning out he does. He waves his hand in front of Sherlock’s face but gets no response. Picking up the tea instead he goes about heating it up, hoping he can make Sherlock drink it when he comes back online.
He can hear Sherlock speaking behind him as the tea finishes, but he doesn’t know what he says. “Come again Sherlock.” He goes over tea in hand and sets it down beside the microscope again.
“I said, if an Omega didn’t break themselves, what would happen to them?” He says it so softly John has to lean in to hear him properly. It’s strange, Sherlock was typically either loud or dead silent, softness didn’t seem natural for him, even if he was an Omega.
John realizes it’s time to be quiet, so he whispers like Sherlock. “In old times virgin Omegas were kept with their families in the home until they could be mated off. They were a risk to transport and couldn’t be allowed alone, especially in the presence of non-related Alphas. Alphas could become completely animalistic if they smelled one, if they’re scents were compatible it could be even worse, stories of Alphas hurting Omegas by accident were common. Alphas weren’t taught control, most don’t learn control even now...”
“They would just take what they wanted, what they thought was theirs.” Sherlock’s face is completely blank as he stares at John’s chest, refusing to look up.
“Yeah. Yeah, they would. Which is why you need to break Iris of his scent, I know there aren’t many Alpha’s, but I want to keep him safe, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I was the one to hurt him.” His voice wavers, emotion coming through but he holds it back best he can. “God help me if I found out some strange Alpha got a hold of him and I wasn’t there to protect him.” His anger is back, pheromones and all. But to his surprise Sherlock releases his own comforting scent in return, the first time the Omega has been willing to use his second gender on John. He breathes deeply, letting the warm meadow encompass his senses and it’s not like Sherlock’s normal scent, it’s not the one that makes his gut churn with desire, it’s more subtle and soft. It makes him want to cover himself and the Omega in a sheet and sleep wrapped up in each other the rest of the day. Unconsciously he moves closer, feeling so much calmer than before, his anxiety washing away with each breath.
“I understand now. I’ll take care of it.” Sherlock says a little louder, finally breaking the whispering they had been doing. John nods, seeing the recognition in the detectives face and with that he realizes how close the two of them had gotten during the conversation. They’re practically chest to chest, John looks away realizing he would barely have to tip his head up to lay a kiss on Sherlock’s plush lips. He clears his throat and backs off gesturing to the tea without really saying anything. He’s sure now that everything will be fine, he has Sherlock’s full support and now his full understanding.
John gets a call later to come into the breeding clinic today to get his blood work done and as he looks at the bills next to his computer vs the pitiful amount of resumes he sent out, he decides it’s a good idea, agreeing to come in for a later appointment. As he hands up, Sherlock who had long ago locked himself in his room but comes bursting out yelling about going to the bank. He’s already got on his long coat by the time John is trying to slip his shoes on.
“John? Where is my scarf, I always hang my scarf right here.” He gestures to the coat rack and then begins looking around the base, thinking it might have fallen off.
John keeps a straight face, putting on his shoes, lucky this time that Sherlock isn’t just rushing off and leaving him behind in a cloud of meadow scent. He gets up calmly as Sherlock continues to tear apart various piles of stuff on the floor near the coat rack.
“I gave it to Iris.” Sherlock gets up turning around and looking at John in confusion.
“Why would you give him my scarf, he has his own scarves?”
“Yeah.” John heads for the door, but gets close to Sherlock at the last moment. “But he doesn’t have any scarves with enough scent that could wipe the smell of me off his skin and cover your mark, that were also close to the door as he almost left for Uni.” He looks pointedly at Sherlock, trying not to be accusatory but still warning him to be more careful.
“Oh.” Sherlock’s mouth forms the word, his mouth forming a small heart due to his cupids bow. It’s a cute look John thinks as he heads down the stairs first, for once.
They pull up to an impressive building and John looks around awestruck as they go through the heavy glass revolving doors. “Yeah, when you said we were going to the bank…” He doesn’t continue as Sherlock is announcing himself to one of the receptionists and they are whisked away up the fancy elevator and into an office that smells heavily of Alpha, specifically like English Walnut trees.
“Sherlock Holmes.” A tall Alpha comes into the office, bringing with him more scent and confirming they’re standing in his office. The man’s presence annoys John as he at first ignores him, going straight to shaking hands with Sherlock, clasping both hands onto the detectives. A strangely claiming gesture and if his nose is right the Alpha is unbonded as well, his own inner Alpha bristles with anger, annoyed that this man is being so friendly with Sherlock.
Sherlock seems calm as he simply states “Sebastian.”
“How’ve you been buddy? What’s it been, eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?” He smiles brightly before turning to John with questioning eyes.
“This is my friend, John Watson.” John isn’t really prepared to hear the word friend be used to describe him, we’re they really friends already. It had only been a few weeks and flat mates would probably be the better term. He simply smiles in return while shaking Sebastian’s hand, the two Alpha’s gripping tightly, asserting dominance more than needed. They release at the same time, a gentlemanly thing to do, not backing down but not starting something either. They all sit, Sebastian offering drinks and with no takers they get to it.
“So, you’re doing well. You’ve been abroad a lot.” Sherlock starts off and John instantly knows he’s deducing the man like he does everyone.
“Well, some.” Sebastian says nonchalantly, sitting back in his chair.
“Flying all the way round the world twice in a month?” Sebastian laughs and points his finger at Sherlock but looks at John knowingly.
“Right, you’re doing that thing. See, Sherlock and I were at Uni together, for the whole one semester he survived. He had this trick he used to do.” The Alpha grins a bit.
“It’s not a trick.” Sherlock says defensively.
“He could take one look at you and tell you your whole life story.”
“Yes, I’ve seen him do it.” John confirms, sneaking a peak over in Sherlock’s direction. The detective has gone strangely still.
“Put the wind up everybody. We hated him.” Sherlock looks down and John can see the tension in the Omega’s body but he can’t reach out to comfort like he wants to. Has to keep it professional and Sherlock is back up with a face neutral in a moment anyway.
“I’d come down to breakfast in the Formal Hall and this freak would know I’d been to the breeding clinic the previous night. Not that I wasn’t there all the time, being the only Alpha at the college.” His smirk beams with amusement and he looks over at John as if the other Alpha would understand, as if being an Alpha automatically made him special. John just stares at him blankly, not willing to play into his second genders stereotypes.
“Oh yes, how are your countless children? Some of them are getting up there in age, how old are they?” John turns to Sherlock, mouth almost agape at how unexpected the ‘normal’ question is to be coming out of the detectives mouth. As if Sherlock would ever care to talk about someone else’s offspring like a traditional Omega housewife at a Sunday brunch.
“Oh wonderful, I should say. The oldest is fifteen, almost sixteen, yeah presented as an Alpha a few years ago. So, proud of him, he contacted me…” John misses the last bit of what Sebastian says as his brain latches onto the age. Sixteen. The same age as Iris. And what had Sebastian said earlier, ‘at Uni together for only one semester’. John’s brain works on overdrive then piecing together bits of conversations he’s had with the two Omega’s over the past weeks. Iris had told him that he was getting a degree in Engineering, unlike Sherlock, but he didn’t blame his father for never going back since he was unexpectedly pregnant with Iris, so he had other priorities. But, the young omega had also mentioned that he didn’t live with Sherlock in the beginning, that his father had been gone the first few years but came back. ‘A drugs bust…this guy doing drugs’ he had laughed but the weird pieces fall into place as John sets a rough timeline in his head.
Sherlock at Uni, high on drugs gets pregnant with an Alpha’s child, and John knows it’s an Alpha since the Omega had confirmed it at Angelo’s. The now pregnant Sherlock leaves Uni and runs back home to have the child but leaves, doing who knows what in the meantime. But comes back, clean and sober, “married to my work and the parenting of Iris.” Not looking for another Alpha, clearly denied by the one who had gotten him pregnant, one who went to his University and was the only Alpha at the whole campus. John wants to see red, but he can’t confirm truly that Sebastian is Iris’s Alpha, can only speculate with the bits and pieces he’s gathered. He comes back to the conversation just in time.
“I’m sure you waited until the last minute to comply with the mandate. So, what do you have, a five or six year old? Bet those toddler years are mighty fun.” The Alpha scrunches his face up in mild disgust.
Sherlock stays relaxed and simply hums, not really confirming anything about Iris. But the whole thing confuses John, if Sebastian didn’t know about Iris, then he couldn’t have been the one to impregnate Sherlock. A single mating is all it takes and an Alpha can smell the change within a hours’ time. He would have had to have known that Sherlock left Uni because of the pregnancy, unless he didn’t stay and Sherlock left without ever seeing him again.
“Anyway, I’m glad you could make it over. We’ve had a break-in.”
The next hour is a whirlwind as always with Sherlock. John tries to forget the epiphany he may or may not have had and instead goes with the flow, following the Omega around the trading floor as he gathers clues in his big brain. The detective talks him through the various clues and deductions he makes. When John’s handed a cheque by Sebastian with a large amount of money on it he almost wants to say something about back pay on child support, but holds his tongue.
As they walk out together John is silent, he’s bristling with annoyance and he’s not even sure why. So what if Sebastian was Iris’s Alpha, that didn’t mean anything, the man clearly didn’t want actual children that he had to raise, just enjoyed the perks of being an Alpha, wanted by the government to breed Omegas. Sherlock seemingly didn’t notice John’s particular attitude the whole time, even during the ride to this Van Coon’s apartment, the detective was restless with excitement over the case.
Sherlock sweet talks his way into a nice Beta’s apartment and uses her balcony to break into Van Coon’s apartment. John for his part stands outside the apartment and waits for Sherlock. Always either waiting for the detective or getting left behind by him, he rings the buzzer, thinking it’s been enough time that Sherlock should have made it into the apartment.
“Sherlock?” He says through the door. He waits, leaning his ear to the wood and concentrating. He often wishes his hearing was half as strong as his sense of smell is, then again all the gun shots he’s heard would have been deafening. “Sherlock, are you okay?” The apartment is silent and if someone comes by and sees him listening up against the door they might think he’s a weird stalker or something. “Yeah, any time you feel like letting me in.” It’s still a few minutes before Sherlock opens the door, but when he does it’s to let himself out, already on the phone calling Scotland yard. John steps into the apartment and the smell of fresh blood hits his nose. Unlike the smell of death the blood doesn’t smell foul, just metallic, it lets him know that they’re too late for Van Coon.
It takes some time for the police to get there, meanwhile Sherlock is gathering evidence, rooting through the man’s bag and taking a folded piece of paper from his mouth. John forgets for a while all about Sebastian, so focused on the detective in front of him. He’s beautiful and oddly infuriating as they speak back and forth, John answering some of his questions correctly and at other points just being strangely confused by the way Sherlock speaks, asking things John would never think to ask.
Detective Inspector Dimmock, a tall Beta with surprisingly young looks gets his arse handed to him by Sherlock, his suicide theory being shot down with fact after fact laid out by the stern Omega. John inner Alpha bristles at the way Sherlock stripes a person down, aggressive in his own way, it makes John want to break that spirit and make it his, lay the detective out on his bed and fuck him into submission.
His thought are interrupted as Sherlock briskly takes off out of the room, leaving John to smile half apologetically toward Dimmock, but he smirks as soon as his back is turned. So proud of the Omega, thrilled at how the case is going, it’s gone from simple threats to actual murder and as much as he feels bad for Van Coon, he loves to see Sherlock like this, in his element, deducing and analyzing, using that big brain of his.
They find Sebastian again, having a fancy dinner with some clients or colleagues, ‘who cares’ John thinks. This time he watches even closer how the Alpha reacts to Sherlock, trying to glimpse anything that would tell him how the man really felt about the detective. The whole conversation between the three of them gets John no further in his analysis of Sebastian and Sherlock’s relationship, and it seemingly gets Sherlock no further in his analysis of why Van Coon is dead.
They go home and John leaves a little while later to make his appointment at the clinic, entering through the front doors to a happy looking Beta who lets him know they’ll be right with him. The clinic looks the same as before, it’s a clean doctor’s office looking place, complete with uncomfortable waiting room chairs and a fake plant in the corner. Everything smells like heavy cleaners and scent neutralizing spray, something that’s seriously required when working with in heat Omegas and aggressive Alphas. Speaking of Alphas, John didn’t see or smell any the last time he was here and this time is no different. There are two older Omegas both sitting quietly, to the side, they keep glancing John’s way, probably wondering if he’ll be the Alpha to mate them, if he goes through with this. Course he is sitting here, so he guesses that means he really is going through with it.
As he begins to scrutinize his real reasons for being here he has a hard time truly coming to grips with his feelings. He really likes Sherlock, finds him fascinating and gorgeous, just thinking about the svelte Omega, high cheekbones and pale smooth skin makes him feel a hunger down to his bones. A need to protect the genius, from his own impulses and from the murders who would hurt him. The problem still lies though with Sherlock himself and if he would ever let John in to be part of his life, as more than just a flat mate. Even if he did, would John really be a good Alpha for him, would he be a good co-parent to Iris or would his attraction toward Iris make him unable to truly be that type of parental figure toward the teenager? John couldn’t deny that he wanted both of them, as much as he had disregarded the fantasy of yesterday the feeling is still there, the want for both of them, just as strong.
He’s called in by a little Beta nurse in the middle of his brooding, still unsure of what he’s doing here besides the prospect of quick money and maybe something to take the edge off of living with two unbonded amazing smelling, made just for him as if heaven felt bad for almost killing him too early, Omegas. The room is typical of any clinic visit, John had hoped to work in an office like this, something quiet and mundane. Something that would ground him on the days he wasn’t chasing down murderers and give him a steady cash flow to boot.
The nurse takes his height and weight before letting him into an exam room, where she gets his blood pressure and asks him dozens of questions about his health, typing it all into the computer as she goes, with her no nonsense attitude. ‘Would have been faster if you just let me write this down before coming here' John thinks. Once she seems satisfied with all his answers, she leaves and a doctor enters, another Beta but this one much more chipper than the nurse that left.
“Hey, nice to meet you…” He looks at John's file for his name. “Doctor John Watson.” He smiles a genuinely bright smile. “I’m Doctor Evans. How's everything going for you today?” He says while sitting and rolling his still over in front of John, he holds out his hand for John to shake.
“Good, good. And yourself?” As John shakes the offered hand he watches the man carefully, as a doctor himself he knows how an exam should go.
“Wonderful, you are a sight for sore eyes my friend, a new Alpha for the clinic is a big deal, we haven’t had one in almost a year.” He puts on his stethoscope and listens to John’s heart, nodding his head enthusiastically as he goes about the exam.
“Surprising, Alphas are presenting from some of the first years of the mandate, I would think you would be getting a few each month?” John remembers just this morning hearing how Sebastian had a newly presented Alpha child.
“New rules, state we can’t take Alphas under 25, too many young men trying to earn easy money instead of becoming a real part of society first. So our breeders are still mostly Betas and the few older Alphas who are willing to come in. It’s not surprising really, with so many options for Alphas to choose it’s no wonder all of them end up bonded and their spouses unwilling to let them in the clinics.” The exam is going quickly as the doctor talks, he checks reflexes, basic motor skills, and strength without even having to instruct John, likely realizing that John being a doctor means he can do these tests in his sleep.
“Hmm.” John hums noncommittally, knowing that if he could have his desired Omegas he wouldn’t even need them to tell him no, he wouldn’t want to stray from them.
“We can do your orientation right after this, get it all done in one day so when your blood comes back we can have you in for your first official appointments.” The doctor turns around, throwing on a pair of gloves and getting out a variety of needles and tubes for drawing blood.
“Orientation?” John looks at him funny.
“Yeah, you know to go over all the rules and make sure you know what you’re doing when you get in with the Omegas.” At that John’s face flushes a light pink, realizing at (38) years old he's basically going to be given a lesson in sex.
“Sadly, it’s a necessary part of the process, as a doctor I’m sure you’re well aware of how everything works but we have rules and procedures in place to keep the Omegas safe and happy.” Dr. Evans, draws several vials of blood, labeling them and tucking them into their space to be shipped to the lab. He draws off his gloves with a hard snap and disposes them in the biohazard box. John is overall feeling positive about the whole experience so far, realizing that at least the doctor they have on staff seems competent in his work.
The Beta grabs two packets of papers from the desk and sits back down on the rolling chair. He hands John one of the packets, the top cover has the clinics name and logo, along with ‘Alpha Guide’ in smaller letters underneath.
“Let’s get started, the first page is an example of a paper you’ll be getting very familiar with, it’s the Omega’s preference form. When you come in for appointments we will give you vials of slick from the current Omegas here at the clinic.” He holds his hand up with an example vial, it looks similar to the blood vials. “Once you’ve smelled each vial and selected the Omega you wish to breed the Omega will be given a small sniff of your scent, usually we give you a cotton ball to rub on your gland, that’s more than enough. If the Omega agrees in turn then we can move onto getting you ready.”
“Me.” John looks a little worried.
“All partners are required to shower beforehand to remove any conflicting scents which could confuse the Omega, such as a spouse or friends scent which might have been on you. The Omegas have already showered before they were put in their rooms, so everyone is clean, they should smell only like themselves.” Dr. Evans points to the form. “When you are done with your shower you will enter a small separate room which will contain a few items including this form, which was filled out by the Omega before their heat, when they were in a clear headspace. It tells you their likes and dislikes for the mating session, such as preferred positions or whether they want to be knotted or not.” John looks the page over, realizing that this whole business is going to be a lot more complex than he thought. The page is detailed with different sections, each containing lots of little check boxes and one large section that is just lines for the Omegas to write whatever they want. Positions, pet names, knotting yes or no, and he was going to have to remember this for each individual session.
“When you are done in there you will enter through the other door into where the Omega is waiting. You’ll notice that the Omega will have brought their own bedding with them in order to make a nest here at the Clinic. We wash everything and then give it back so they can scent it anew. Next you’ll notice that the Omega’s all wear a special collar while they’re here, you can bite into the collar as much as you want, it will prevent accidental bonding yet you can still somewhat stimulate the Omega through it.” He turns the page and John naturally follows along. The top says rules in big bold letters, followed by at least 50 entries, several with additional bullet points, which continue onto the next two pages.
“You’ll need to memorize these rules, I suggest reading it over several times, but a few key ones include no hurting the Omega, either physically or emotionally, which means no tearing up their nest, I actually as a small recommendation always say you should talk nicely to the Omega and the best way to break the ice is to compliment them on the nest they built. It makes the whole process a bit less awkward. Use it as an ice breaker.” The doctor smiles and bobs his head in a ‘you know what I mean’ kind of gesture. John nods back.
“So, no hurting, no exchanging names or detailed information, this process is supposed to be anonymous and while you will likely see each other’s faces at some point we ask that no one give their names.” The doctor runs his hand over his face and into this hair, ruffling it a bit. “Most of the Omegas in the clinic are here because of the mandate, they aren’t here completely willingly and we need to be respectful to them, you’re not here to please yourself or even them, you’re both here to perform the necessary actions which will ensure a pregnancy.” He sighs and flips the page a few times, he looks exhausted from having to even talk about this, this prior cheeriness leaving as he goes over the details.
“With you being a doctor, I’m sure you’re aware that this program only exists because artificial insemination like we use on cattle works roughly ten percent of the time on Omegas, while physical mating is seventy percent and even up to eighty-five if they’re knotted.” John nods, he feels strangely like he’s intruding suddenly on the man’s personal thoughts but these facts are written right on the page they’d turned to.
“The rest of the packet is how to read the preferences and what each check box means and what to do if the Omega changes their mind during the mating. Such as if they marked no knotting and then during the mating they tell you to knot them. You technically have to follow their original instructions, they can’t consent to anything new once they are in that room. You understand?” He looks earnestly into John’s eyes.
“Yes, of course.” John swallows around the dryness in his throat. This might not be the thing for him after all.
“I said, “Could you pass me a pen?”” John barely hears him as he walks into the sitting room. He thinks for a moment that Sherlock must be talking to Iris but as he looks around the teenager is nowhere to be found, but he does see that Sherlock has done some work, there are pictures of the graffiti from the bank stuck to the mirror above the fireplace. He walks over looking at the images from this morning and drops his jacket and the clinic packet onto his chair.
“What? When?” He finally asks to Sherlock’s own question.
“Bout an hour ago.” The odd Omega is staring at the mirror, not even bothering to address John by looking at him. John just sighs.
“Didn’t notice I’d gone out, then.” He grabs a pen from his little stand and tosses it at Sherlock, aiming for his head and mildly smirking at the thought of what Sherlock’s face would look like if he hit him. But alas, the detective catches the pen without looking or flinching, his eyes and mind fixed on the case. “Where’s Iris?” John knows he asks this question a lot but he wants to make sure his pack, ‘no John they are not yours.’ He wants to make sure the younger is safe, his inner Alpha always too protective of the Omegas, too… possessive.
“He’s in the bedroom. Your technique with the scarf worked. Here, have a look.” John saunters over, chest puffed out with a little pride from what he did protect Iris today. He leans over the chair that Sherlock is perched in, getting into the Omegas space and those pretty dark curls. He catches a whiff of his wonderful shampoo and he could just bury his face in those soft locks. When he controls himself enough to look at the laptop screen he reads the headline “Ghostly killer leaves a mystery for police.” Sherlock turns his head back and up to look at John and John looks at Sherlock’s face, meeting light blue eyes with his deep blue, a look of intrigue in the former. They’re closer than he meant to be, luckily for him the Omega jerks his head back to the article and John turns away and reads for a moment before saying “An Intruder who can walk through walls?”
“Happened last night. Journalist shot dead in his flat; doors locked, windows bolted from the inside.” Sherlock’s eyes are wide with excitement. “Exactly the same as Van Coon.” The man looks like he could skip about the flat.
“God, you think…”
“He’s killed another one.”
They head out to New Scotland Yard, intent on getting Dimmock to let them into the dead man Lukis’s flat. It barely takes Sherlock a few sentences to convince the man, though he scowls his way through every word he says and is reluctant to even admit that the detective is right. In the end Dimmock meets them over at the flat, just for Sherlock to mystify him again. He rattles off deduction after deduction, the inspector and John listening intently, but the former is quick to laugh in disbelief when Sherlock announces that the killer is getting in by climbing the buildings. But it doesn’t really matter when the detective runs off down the stairs a book in hand and coat flapping about.
In the cab Sherlock explains the book to John and the library they enter is nice, but they’re not here to check out books. The tall Omega leads the way to the section where the pilfered book was picked up and begins haphazardly pulling out books, looking for something. John, not really sure what that something is, copies Sherlock and gets lucky soon after, finding the same markings in yellow spray paint on the back of a shelf. They take a quick picture and are off, back home to analyze they’re new information.
“Welcome home!” Iris is standing in the kitchen and something smells surprisingly wonderful. Sherlock doesn’t even spare the youth a glance before he’s back over at his laptop again, printing out the new photos to add to the mirror.
“What is that delicious smell?” John says with a smile, going over to greet Iris. His Alpha says it’s the Omegas but his belly tells him its meat and that’s just as good. The boy is wearing cute flannel pants and a simple white t-shirt which hugs his delicate frame, revealing just how small he really is. John dreams of coming up behind him for a back hug, grabbing that tiny waist and…
“I made garlic chicken. It’s kind of my specialty.” The kid shoots the widest smile at John, his eyes squinting with crinkles at the corners. He watches as Iris pulls out a whole chicken from the oven, beautifully roasted with bits of garlic over the breast. After he puts it on the table to cool, he makes grabby fingers at John with the oven mitts and the sheer cuteness of the normally more serious Omega catches the Alpha off guard. His instinct takes over and the next thing he knows he’s picked up Iris by the waist hulling him right off his feet, hugging him to his chest and twirling him around happily.
Iris gives a little shout at suddenly being airborne but quickly laughs, latching his arms around John’s neck, hands still in their mitts. “John, haha. What are you doing?!” The Alpha has him in a tight grip his strong arms holding him close and as much as he wants to be put down because he’s getting dizzy the show of strength has that voice in his head absolutely shouting “YES” at the top of its lungs. As much as he loved last night with his father, the grip of the Alpha is different, sturdy and demanding of his attention. He longs to feel that same sensation again, didn’t realize he had wanted to touch so badly, knew he had been being careful not to overstep the boundaries. Taking the Alpha’s shirt had been dangerous enough, but casual touching was something different, something that could easily become more intimate if left unchecked.
But too quickly it’s all over and Iris’s feet hit the ground leaving him standing there with his mouth open, his hair a little wilder and his face pink. His appearance probably rivals his inner feelings which are a mess of confusion and arousal, he had been expecting a positive reaction from the Alpha for his cooking but this was so much more than he had planned on. He was hoping for a smile and “Good job”, but a full body twirling hug. Oh and now his sleeping shirt smells like John, that musky pine forest scent clinging to him like it was meant to be there.
“I didn’t know you could cook!” John bellows happily, voice excitedly loud and boisterous suddenly. He has his hands on Iris’s shoulders, holding him at arm’s length.
“I…yeah, I know a few things. Dad doesn’t cook so I learned just so we had something different.” He looks away from John’s eager face, embarrassed by how much John is just staring at him with awe. Seems like the fastest way to John’s heart might end up being through his stomach, a quote Ms. Hudson had often said to him as she taught him to cook.
From the side, Sherlock watches the whole scene unfold as John finally let’s go of Iris turning instead to the food. The two begin filling up plates and chattering excitedly about the food, before the Alpha starts to chow down, absolutely demolishing the plate of food in front of him. Clearly his eating habits were from his military days if the way he shoved it all down was anything to go on. Iris for his part is cutting off small bites for himself, eating properly as he was taught by his grandmother at a young age, sitting with his back straight. He’s staring at John, a little mystified and he’s clearly still affected by the Alpha’s earlier actions, his posture is tight, unwilling to let himself relax as he overthinks the whole encounter.
It’s a strange sight to see the two together for Sherlock, he had purposefully kept his own distance from John, scared to be hurt like he was so long ago. So to watch an Alpha who could easily hurt Iris like he had been hurt, but know that the Alpha cared deeply enough not to, well it made Sherlock forget about the case for a moment. Made him turn to watch as a kind yet dangerous man sat in his kitchen, eating a meal with his son and it made him yearn for something he had never allowed himself. Long for a connection, the kind he had denied himself for protection, the kind that made him want to have been the one in John’s arms just now. He observes them for a while longer, letting his eyes linger on John, taking in the Alpha fully, his grey blonde hair, the broad chest, and the way he licks his lips, a habit Sherlock was starting to like watching. He files it all away deep into his mind palace, into the new box labeled John Watson, then promptly tries to will away the clench in his heart.
As always, please let me know what you think by adding a comment and I will do my best to get back to everyone.