Actions

Work Header

Take Flight

Work Text:

John heard the rushing sound of wings. He looked up at the sky and saw the alphas showing off above the courtyard. His own wings twitched with desire, but he knew most alphas would take one look at him and scoff. He had no good family to bring to a union and no money. He'd been lucky to get a scholarship here. John knew he needed to focus on his studies alone. He was so determinedly looking at his feet that he nearly ran into a tall Alpha.

Tedious. There were feathers absolutely everywhere and the courtyard was excessively crowded with thickly-pheromoned omegas watching the May Day Flight Dance. Sherlock's wings were rustling in agitation, caught between the desire to just take flight to get to his rooms and the understanding that he would be pulled into the inane ritual if he did. Slinking around the edges to avoid the majority of the madness, he stepped around a pillar and almost collided with an omega who was, surprisingly, resolutely watching his feet rather than the display that some would say was being put on just for him. Even more surprisingly, unlike the other omegas he'd been unable to avoid coming in contact with, the small man's wings didn't drop and spread, but puffed out like an alpha's would prior to an attack. Fascinating.

John had his hands up as if expecting a fight before he realized the alpha was just looking at him. He took a breath and tried to move out of the way, only for the alpha to step the same way with the same apparent purpose. They took a few more steps like that before John broke into laughter. "This is ridiculous."

It was new to have someone, much less an omega, not only catch his interest, but keep it. But this omega had certainly caught it with his nearly anti-alpha behaviour. And then he'd kept it with three words in breathy laughter and the surprising relaxation of golden wings. Sherlock smiled down genially at the other student, expression not quite fake but not quite real either as he grabbed onto shoulders that felt slimmer than they looked under the bulky jumper. The omega inhaled sharply, pupils dilating rapidly at the touch and likely the sudden flux of his scent, not even seeming to notice when Sherlock turned them. With that same smile, the alpha began to pull away, unsurprised at the tilt of a golden head to scent at the inside of his wrist as he pulled away.

"Hey, what's your name?" John shook himself free of his intoxication. This alpha was far too interesting to let him go without a word. Normally John wouldn't bother, but this one was different, he could tell.

It seems he wasn't the only one whose interest had caught. "Sherlock Holmes," he introduced, wondering if the omega, obviously a new student, had been there long enough to be warned away from the black-winged alpha with the sharp tongue who haunted the school's labs and library. "And yours?" he murmured, low enough that the shorter man stepped forward to hear him better. With the motion, the omega's scent wafted gently towards him and he took a deep breath, enjoying the hard undertones to a deceptively soft scent. It was an absolute shame they weren't in private rather than this mess where they could scent properly.

"John Watson." He ruffled his feathers a bit. "I'm new here." Sherlock's eyes were gorgeous. "Don't suppose you know somewhere quieter than this mess?"

"Come on," he said as he started to turn away, one wing extended just a little to hover over gold ones, not unlike extending a helping arm, only brazenly more intimate. "There's an atrium over here not many use," he said, guiding the omega aware from the crowd and through external corridors. The walk was short and silent and in no time, they were in the small, empty courtyard.

John shivered, and not from the cold. This was the most delicious alpha he'd ever smelled. Still, he wasn't the sort of omega to just bend over for anyone. He puffed his wings up again. "This is certainly quiet and secluded enough."

It amused him to no end to see John's feathers fluffing, an alpha move for defense, attack, and posturing alike. But for the moment... "Yes, it is quiet," he agreed in a low hum as he breathed deep the unpolluted air and spread his wings wide. The span of each wing was as long as he was tall, and he relished in the rare opportunity to stretch them to their greatest extent. He shook his wings, relaxing at the feeling of air shuffling through his feathers. He'd been on a frustrating case the last week, one that had him cooped up in closets near every night. In some ways, being able to stretch his wings was as pleasurable as cocaine or orgasm.

John couldn't help but be impressed by the gorgeous display. "You aren't like most alphas," he said. The wings wafted and he got another lungful of that delicious scent. He moved closer, sensing danger and welcoming it. After all, he was no stranger to living on the edge.

Sherlock chuckled. “I should hope not.” John was moving closer to him and there was a sweet scent hiding in the air that he knew was coming from the omega. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he curled his wings inwards, the tips of black feathers just barely brushing against gold pinions. “You should stretch as well. It has been too long since you’ve last done so,” he deduced with encouraging pushes of his own wings into the furled shape of John’s.

John kept his eyes fixed on Sherlock’s as he stretched his wings. The strange alpha was right, he didn’t often let his wings stretch. Too many years in close quarters. He let his wings brush Sherlock’s, pushing him a bit, testing. Golden feathers entwined for a moment with black. This alpha was gorgeous.

He had never before offered to sift his wings with another’s before, though that hadn’t stopped some from trying to do it anyway. And yet, here he was, mesmerised by the the shimmering shift of gold through blue-black. Somehow, his little game to see how much the strange omega would let him get away with, what he would allow and what he would reject, had turned into its own little courting dance: coy words and almost-movements and now the melding of their wings. He was beginning to see why some would spend every spare time in the sky, why they would practice their dance even when they weren’t. Curiously, cautiously, he stepped right into John’s space, bringing their chests to almost-touching and their wings flush against one another’s. Slowly, he pressed his down, not quite forcing the omega’s into the submissive position, wondering if he would be accepted or rebuked, and his heart pounding in his chest from the excitement either way.

John’s breath caught. He didn’t submit, never had. But now, this alpha? This man he only barely knew the name of? He wanted to. His scent was heady and his arousal clear. Slowly, John lowered his wings to submit, leaving them extended, though. Not going to give up that easily. And he kept his gaze steady. He wasn’t going to simply bow and curtsey to the first alpha that really caught his attention.

His breath caught in his throat at the not-submission. Lowered wings to indicate bodily acceptance, but wariness and rebellion clear in the held gaze and the raised chin. “Fantastic,” he breathed, dropping his head to press their lips together. He waited for the omega to relax before he slowly wrapped him in his arms and his wings, pulling him deeper into the kiss that he was sure to keep gentle and unthreatening. His catch was the type to spook easily and he couldn’t let him get away now that things had gotten interesting.

Moaning softly, John returned the kiss. He could feel his own body’s desire, growing damp, readying himself. He felt strangely safe, wrapped up in Sherlock’s arms and wings. And it had been a very long time since he’d felt safe anywhere. He relaxed a little more and raised his hand to run it through the soft curls. Experimentally, he gave a small tug.

The moan that erupted from his throat caught him by surprise as much as it did John. He hadn’t had anyone’s hands in his hair since he was unable to comb it himself, and certainly it had never been pulled. His arms and his wings tightened and he loomed over the smaller form, panting heavily and attempting to resist rutting his sudden erection into the soft curve of a hip. “Do it again,” he rasped, right before he began to attack the tanned neck with teeth and tongue

John grinned and complied, dragging his own teeth along the pale throat in front of him. Sherlock was inexperienced, he could tell. Wondering just how much he could get away with, John pulled away and pushed on Sherlock’s shoulders, wanting the taller alpha on his knees. When the man hesitated, he made it an order, heart thumping in his chest. “On your knees,” he barked, tugging his hair in that direction.

Startled and entirely aroused, the taller man’s knees bent like aluminum. He barely noticed the pain of his kneecaps landing on hard ground beneath the grass, he was so entranced at the sight of John looming over him. His face was also right on level with John’s waist, and more specifically, his mouth was on level with John’s cock. It was a split-second before he was leaning forward, pressing his nose to the denim and greedily inhaling the muffled musk that made his mouth water with what felt like a sudden and untenable hunger.

Panting, John kept his fingers in Sherlock’s hair. He wanted that sinful mouth on his cock. But he was also aware they were fairly exposed here and it was public. He curved his wings about his would-be mate, shielding him. God, he wanted this worse than anything else in a long time. He yanked Sherlock’s head back, forcing him to look up at him again. “Will you fly with me?”

As much as he knew bossy omegas had to exist, he’d never met one. Apparently he had one of his own now and that was fine. It was really, quite fine. Sherlock nodded eagerly, causing the fingers still in his hair to pull at the roots in a way that lit his scalp up with pained pleasure. “Yes,” he gasped, lurching back to his feet to devour John’s mouth in hungry, desperate kisses. “Yes, please, let’s fly!”

John chuckled and wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s waist. “Well then, let’s go.” He arched his wings and was glad when Sherlock collected himself to follow his lead. In a moment they were in the air, John wrapping his legs around Sherlock’s slender waist and kissing him as they moved together as one. The air rushing through their wings was the best thing he’d ever felt.

His wings were moving without conscious thought, carrying them higher and higher into the evening sky. His mouth was too busy with John’s tongue and his hands were too busy shoving his own trousers down his thighs, closely followed by the omega’s. Somehow, the angle was perfect without effort, and his questing fingers immediately encountered the slick pouring from John. Giving him no warning, he plunged two inside the slick channel, delighting in the way John’s mouth broke from his with a sharp cry.

John growled as he caught his breath. “Fuck me,” he ordered, shifting himself and keeping them in the air. His heart was singing from the adrenaline. He’d never really expected to take mating flight. But this was perfect.

The omega’s breathy demands only served to heighten his arousal, making his cock throb with every syllable. There was barely time for a heartbeat between when he pulled his fingers free and replaced them with his cock, pressing into that slick heat. The pressure around him was so beyond delicious that he had no words for it. His wings shuddered where they were draped over John, and then folded, sending them back down towards earth as he began to thrust.

John’s heart was in his throat, arms wrapped tight around the alpha’s neck, trusting that he’d catch them before they crashed. His wings fluttered a moment before Sherlock’s, but then they were rising again. John moaned as Sherlock thrust deep and hard, frantic. He was getting close himself and bared his neck, anticipating as he felt the knot swell.

The movements of his wings, raising them before letting them fall fall fall and then woosh, raising them right back up again, were as instinctual as the movements of his hips inside of John. The omega in his arms was baring his neck, offering his scent gland to Sherlock, and he had no other plan than acceptance. The gravity of their rise and fall was helping press just the beginning of his knot into John but it wouldn’t be enough to pierce him fully. Feeling his orgasm approaching, Sherlock folded his wings over John’s, and entered them into the final dive.

The dive let gravity drive the knot into him. John cried out, going nearly boneless with his own orgasm, body automatically latching tighter to his bond-mate as his seed filled him and the pleasure-pain of the bite coursed through him. He knew, medically, what it was to bond, but he was unprepared for the overwhelming sense of us. He moaned, wings moving automatically, hoping they’d be landing in Sherlock’s nest soon. No doubt the alpha would need to rest too.

He'd never knotted an omega before, much less mid-flight, and the experience was, as they say 'religious'. The heat of John wrapped around his knot was more perfect than anything, and the way his walls convulsed around him made his eyes roll back in his head and his jaw tightened around his omega's throat as his wings spread open before they could crash back into the private courtyard. The sudden and abrupt change of direction forced his cock even deeper into John and they both moaned as he released another wave of seed into his new mate. In a daze, he carried them to his nest, his rooms strategically positioned on the corner of the furthest building (anything to keep him away from the other students). Now his quirk gave them privacy as he landed on the extended perch, the sudden stop jarring him, still-knotted, inside his mate.

John's heart still pounded as Sherlock carried him to his bed. His wings tucked close automatically and anxiety spiked up his spine as he looked up at his new alpha. What on earth had he been thinking? Sherlock seemed to be watching him as well and the bond bite stung, reminding him what exactly he'd just done. Willingly. He didn't even know this alpha.

His still-inflated knot tugged against John's rim as he stepped up onto the bed and carefully sat in the corner to keep himself propped up, spreading his wings out along the wall and draping them on his bed. John was nearly a ball of gold feathers in his lap, smelling faintly of growing anxiety. Making sure to only exude pheromones of calm and safety, he unwrapped his arms, only to use them to draw John's wings out. His fingers were firm but gentle as they began to preen his new mate's feathers as he softly licked the new bond mark. In the calm moment, his mind felt blissfully still and he gave a light hum against the tan neck.

Slowly, John began to relax under the alpha's ministrations. It had been a very long time since anyone but himself had preened his feathers. He rested his head on Sherlock's shoulder "So... tell me about yourself?" It seemed a rather backwards way to go about this.

"I'm a consulting detective," he said proudly, the feather's on his wings puffing out with pride. At the omega's questioning look, he elaborated. "I solve crimes. And when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they call me." The alpha's knot was finally beginning to deflate but John remained where he was, letting Sherlock's cock soften inside him. John looked and felt a great deal more relaxed, in direct contrast to Sherlock who was getting more and more excited at the memory of his latest case and the high of solving the puzzle.

John smiled, intrigued. "Sounds fascinating. And you do that as well as school?" He was feeling drowsy now. "I'm pre-med." He could picture the alpha moving around a crime scene, sharp eyes and wings peeling back mysteries.

Sherlock snorted. "I'm only at school because my brother is forcing me. The teachers here are idiots and they have nothing I wish to learn from." He leaned back a bit, running a critical eye over the omega. "And yes, pre-med with an interest in joining the military and an protective family member. Likely an older sibling."

John blinked, wondering how he knew that. He nodded. "Yes. But I suppose the military is out now." He touched the still-fresh bond bite. "At least my scholarships weren't contingent on it."

"Military is only out for as long as you wish to retain our bond," his heart gave a funny twist at the thought of breaking what they'd just created, "and should you ever require money, my family has plenty." He almost laughed at the thought of money as an issue: being a Holmes meant he had more money than he knew what to do with, and being Sherlock meant he had contingency plans on his contingency plans for getting money when he needed it. "I'd rather you continue your education, though. A medical mind would be of great value to my work."

John flushed, wings flaring. "It is good to know I bring something to this union. And I've never bonded before, I'm not looking to break this."

He couldn't help but smile at the sight of his omega flushing even as relief flooded him at the promise. "Good. That's uh... good." He felt heat rising to his own cheeks, and to distract John from seeing him blush, he darted forward to press their mouths together, sliding his tongue between already-parted lips.

John moaned, couldn't help it. He reached up to tug the alpha's hair again. This wasn't heat, so they wouldn't be ready again so quickly, but he wanted to remind Sherlock of why they'd chosen one another.

He was still flaccid but the yank on his hair had him moaning and bucking his hips anyway. He'd been ruffling his hair for years, but it had never felt like the way John did it. When they finally broke apart, he didn't mind the cause of this flush, or the way he was panting into his omega's sweet mouth. "Very good," he whispered before diving back in for more addictive kisses. Improbably, he began to harden inside of John again and he pitched them forward, the sheets puffing up under their weight.

Kicking his trousers free and growling, John rolled them over so he was on top, slowly riding the hardening alpha cock. He'd never wanted anyone this way. Leaning forward, he pinned Sherlock's wrists next to his head and mantled his wings, showing in every line and sinew, mine.

“John!” Sherlock shouted as his mate began fucking himself on his cock, golden wings spread over him and caging him in. He wanted to help, wanted to wrap the omega back up in his arms and his wings but both were trapped by that same omega and it was fantastic. He pulled up his knees and planted his feet, thrusting up into that delicious heat. John gave a small cry, pace stuttering as he threw his head back, exposing his throat subconsciously to his alpha. This time, as his knot started to swell, his omega’s position helped the swelling knot get even deeper inside, gravity once again at work. Soon though, it was too much for even his strong mate and John was coming, come spurting across Sherlock’s, regretfully, still-clothed chest. The feeling of his mate’s release echoing in his internal muscles had the alpha’s knot distending rapidly and then he was coming as well, aching to put his teeth back in his mate’s neck.

Dropping his head, John looked into the storm-gray eyes, panting. He’d never had an alpha like this, and would never want another one. He knew that with rock hard certainty. Still keeping Sherlock’s wrist pinned, he leaned down for a kiss, worrying his mate’s lip in his teeth. Now he just had to figure out how to tell Harry. And he had no idea about Sherlock’s family. Well to do, apparently, so they’d probably have a fit.

“You really are quite interesting, John,” Sherlock managed between sharp nips to his lips. He groaned as the shifting of his hips wrung another weak orgasm from him and he dropped his head back on the mattress. “Mummy is going to love you.”

“Yeah?” John pulled back and watched his face. “They’re not going to disown you?” He was only half joking.

Sherlock frowned. “Why would they? Mycroft may try but you’re none of his business and he can keep his fat nose out of it.”

John chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, wings ruffling. “I don’t know much about you. But solving crimes sounds interesting.”

Maybe... “They’re usually just murders but... would you... like to join me on my next one?” He tried to keep the hopeful tone from his voice but he wasn’t sure he succeeded.

“Sure, sounds interesting.” John moaned as Sherlock’s knot slid free and he rolled onto his back next to Sherlock, staring up at the ceiling. He entwined their fingers and wondered just how life had brought him here, to this place and this time.

.oOo.

A week later he knew his life had changed irrevocably. They'd spent most of the week chasing down a criminal and John had proved his worth in, at least, keeping Sherlock from getting injured. Their nights not chasing criminals were spent in Sherlock's bed. John found he enjoyed pushing his alpha, to see how much pleasure and pain he'd endure. Just thinking about it made him shiver.

Right now though, they were eating outside the cafeteria. Sherlock sighed as a black car pulled up.

"Go away, Mycroft," the alpha snapped at the black windows. Defiantly, the door opened anyway and the beta's brolly appeared shortly before his leg and then the rest of him did. Frustratingly, his brother stepped from the car, leaving the door open as he approached. John simultaneously tensed defensively and moved closer to his mate, though Sherlock wasn't quite sure if it was in a protection-seeking or a protection-giving move. Considering the last week spent both mating and solving crimes, either was possible.

"Mummy has requested I bring you both for supper." John looked up at the stiff beta. His wings were black-grey and held close to his ramrod-straight spine. He was older than Sherlock and carried himself with an officious air. John could also feel the tension in his alpha.

He by no means wanted to go, but if he didn’t, Mummy would come get them herself. And if she did, it wouldn’t be pleasant. The first time he’d ignored a summons from her after he moved out, she’d appeared at his crime scene an hour later and dragged him away by his wing. Most undignified. Attempting to keep from frowning, he curled a wing around John and guided him wordlessly into the car, attempting to keep him from his brother’s gaze. He was sure Mycroft already knew everything about his mate that existed or had existed on paper, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t discourage further looks. Or conversation.

John twisted around Sherlock to get a look at the beta. He wanted to smack the black wing aside. The man was looking at his mobile. “My name’s John Watson,” he said by way of greeting.

The beta raised his head. “Mycroft,” he said with a tone like ice.

“Don’t bother, John. He likely knows more about you than you do,” Sherlock informed, curling up on the seat and into his mate’s side. He brought his other wing up, enclosing them in the darkness of his scent and his feathers and blocking out the scent and sight of his brother. In the darkness, there was an aggravated sigh from John, but as he curled up against the other man, a small hand found its way into his hair and began to stroke, continuing to do so in silence until the car stopped and the door was opened for them.

John extricated himself from his alpha’s wings. Mycroft led the way into the house. “Mummy, this is John Watson.” John looked at the omega. She held herself a certain way that was echoed by the way Mycroft held himself. Sherlock was sulking. John gave a slight bow. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Hello, John. My name is Violet. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Violet Holmes introduced herself, smiling as she moved forward to embrace her youngest’s mate. There was a moment of stiff surprise before he returned the hug and when she pulled back, Sherlock was scowling. He tried extending a wing to wrap around the man and with his own scowl, John batted it away. The un-omega-like reaction had her trying to hide a smile. “I can see why Sherly likes you.”

Sherly. John stifled a giggle. They were shown into a parlor where Sherlock planted himself on a couch, still clearly in a huff. John ignored him and accepted the tea, answering Mummy’s questions about school and his plans. He noticed Mycroft watching him but the beta said nothing until he suddenly walked over and grabbed Sherlock’s arm, dragging him out of the room in a haze of feathers that left John blinking in surprise.

Mycroft waited until they were out of earshot. “Does he know about the drugs?”

Sherlock stiffened. “It has been a topic of discussion.” That was putting it lightly and he knew from the look on his brother’s face that he knew. The blowout when John had found his stash of clean needles and powdered goods had been, well, explosive, to put it lightly. For one soul-crushing day, he thought he was going to lose his mate, the only person with which he’d ever been so enamoured. Sobriety had been enforced and despite the way it dragged on his mind, he’d been sober for five days. He would get past it eventually (perhaps he’d grown more dependent on the chemical than he’d realised), but John had promised to remain with him through it, to be there for him as he kicked an addiction even he hadn’t quite realised he’d had.

Mycroft relaxed, just a hair. “Do you know what you’re getting into with him? Has he told you about his family?”

Sherlock frowned, turning his head to catch a glimpse of his mate through the open door. A second later, John's head perked up like he'd sensed his alpha's gaze and turned to meet his eyes. A tentative smile pulled at tan cheeks, turning more confident when Sherlock responded with his own. "I deduced a protective sibling when we met and there have been hints of... other things. Which he has refused to discuss with me," he admitted surly.

"His father is a waste of a man, but he does have his fingers in several unsavory things. His sister has tried to shield him from the worst of it, but there is a reason he's chosen to go to school far from them."

Mycroft's words were vague, but his eyes held Sherlock's eyes with purpose and gave weight to what was carefully left unsaid. The alpha's wings rustled against his back, a mate's desire to protect his treasured omega from the things in the world that he didn't deserved to be subjected to. As much as he cared about John's body, his mental and emotional health were infinitely more important. Bodies could heal. Hearts were not always so lucky. "Will there be someone coming for him?"

"It's possible. I am keeping an eye out." Mycroft gave a rueful smile. "Of course you would pick a difficult omega."

"One could argue that he chose me and I simply did not fight him on the matter." Mycroft's expression was distinctly unamused.

"Tread cautiously, brother," Mycroft's tone was grave but he allowed his younger brother to return to his omega.

John reached out and took Sherlock's hand, seeing the scowl. Mycroft returned a few moments later, sitting stiffly.

Dinner was delicious. And no doubt expensive. John was still surprised there had been no objections to their bonding.

Sherlock scowled at nothing in particular throughout the meal, mind stuck on the apparent problem that was John's blood relations as he pushed his food absently around his plate. Despite his brother's words, the alpha knew nothing would have been said at all if nothing was coming. Hence, trouble was approaching, either in the form of his mate's abusive, alcoholic father, or in the form of his protective, alcoholic older sister. As John, Mycroft, and Mummy ate silently, Sherlock immersed himself in his mind palace, barely noticing when his omega pressed forkfuls of food against his lips or fed him by hand.

They finally headed home. Mycroft did not come along this time. “What’s wrong?” asked John, tucking in against Sherlock’s chest. He reached up and wound his fingers in a stray curl. It had to do with his past, he was sure of it. And Mycroft knew, if not all of it, at least some of it. And he’d hoped it was behind him.

“Tell me why you moved so far away from home,” he demanded, his mate tensing against his side at his words. “I want to know why you refuse to tell me about your family.”

"Not here," said John. He'd been afraid of this. "When we're alone I will tell you. I promise." He'd had no contact with home and hoped it would stay that way.

The ride back to their nest took an excruciating amount of time, and as soon as they arrived on campus, he immediately pushed and prodded his mate through the halls. Once in the door, he didn't even give John the chance to take off his coat before he shoved the omega into a chair and promptly climbed into his lap, ignoring the annoyed and fond huff of laughter. Now he couldn't leave until he'd spilled his secrets. "Talk."

John curled his wings around them, protective. "My father is an asshole. He spends money fast as he makes it. And he makes his money working for bad people. I never wanted to know who they were and Harry tried to protect me from it anyway. When I said I was going to college he said no. When I insisted he beat the shit out of me." John trembled slightly. "I made arrangements quietly and here I am."

Despite John’s wings already around them, Sherlock’s reaction was instant and visceral. His wings snapped out, shoving John’s out of the way to cover the smaller golden wings with his own, wrapping his mate up in the protection of his feathers. “I won’t let him near our nest. I won’t let him near you,” the alpha promised in a growl, threading his hand through golden hair and pulling the omega into a brutal, possessive kiss.

John put a hand on Sherlock's chest to push him back so he could breathe. "I think he had an alpha in mind for me. That's why he didn't want me to leave. But no one knows I'm here."

The wave of absolute fury and possessiveness that swamped him at the idea of his omega belonging to another’s was so intense that his vision went black. When it cleared again, John was on the floor, knees to his chest and pants and trousers hobbling him as Sherlock loomed over him, fingering him roughly. “Mine,” he snarled, diving down to replace fingers with tongue.

John hadn't expected Sherlock to react that way. If he had any doubts about his alpha, they were gone as they landed on the floor. John cried out as Sherlock fingered him, changing to a moan as his alpha switched to tongue. He got his own clothes off and lay back, legs spread wide, wings submissive.

John hadn’t had a heat yet since their mating, but Sherlock imagined that the urgent need to ownfillpossesmine that drove him now would be what it would feel like. In seconds he had his own pants and trousers off and was pushing into his mate, wings pressing down into his mate’s; utter dominance. It wasn’t by any means slow or gentle, his near-feral needs removing all need to be gentle with his omega. But if John’s cries as his knot grew and stretched his mate with every thrust were anything to go by, it wasn’t minded much at all.

It was impossible; it was amazing. Maybe even the best yet. It felt good to submit, to surrender. John's eyes screwed shut, focusing on the pleasure, on the feel of his mate inside of him. He briefly wondered what it would be like to carry his child.

His mate’s eyes were hidden from him, but his head was thrown back and tossing from side to side, his neck arched and showing glimpses of Sherlock’s bondbite with each shake. He didn’t renew it every time they had sex (John didn’t always allow him), but he was going to now. He couldn’t not. His orgasm was so close, his mate’s too, judging by the fluttering of muscles around his cock and the cries that were turning breathier and higher. His knot was almost full and with a snarl, he shoved it past the tight rim and bit down into his bondbite, renewing it as he came.

John came loudly, the sharp pain of his alphas teeth and the stretch of the knot piercing him. He whimpered and went lax under his mate. A moan escaped his lips. He loved this so much.

As he filled his mate with his release, he held himself carefully over John, arms trembling with the effort. Slowly, he pulled his teeth free and gently licked the teeth marks, his needs temporarily sated by his omega’s submission. He began shuffling his wings, allowing his feathers to meld with John’s, comfortable enough in his staked claim to allow some of the omega into the cooler air of the nest outside of his protective form.

John opened his eyes slowly. He ran his hands down Sherlock's chest, enjoying the moment. But there was fear deep in his heart, of the life he'd tried to escape from. He knew Sherlock would fight and he'd fight too.

A few days later, John was walking back from class, when he felt a shadow. Looking around he saw an unfamiliar alpha watching him.

It had taken some work to track down his promised omega, but once he did, he thought that the wait had been well worth it. The man was small, but there was a confidence in his walk that said ‘compact’ rather than just ‘runty’. He liked that. And it was nothing like the picture Hamish Watson had painted of his son in their talks. ’Still,’ he thought as he held up the crumpled photograph, ’that’s definitely him.’ Throwing back his shoulders and adopting a cheeky grin, Sebastian Moran began exuding ‘come hither’ pheromones as he approached his omega.

John's wings went up defensively as the alpha approached him, puffing up to make him look bigger. He held his books in front of his chest and wondered if he could get away from the midnight-winged alpha.

Aw, the omega’s wings were puffing up. How cute. He grinned and puffed out his own, the black feathers rustling with the movement. Still, Johnny’s wings didn’t lower and he didn’t become more submissive, even as Seb’s body began to pump out pheromones in excess, trying to cow the omega into submitting to him. If anything, it only made him more defensive, and oh, wasn’t that fun.

"Get away from me," growled John. "I don't know who are, but I'm bonded." His heart beat faster. Part of him did want to submit to the obvious power of this alpha. But he resolutely ignored it.

He hadn’t noticed it before, but sure enough, there was a bondbite on the omega’s neck. His lip curled at the thought of some other alpha getting to his omega first, and then promptly shoved it away. “For now,” he simply said, his hand shooting forward to clamp over the recently-scabbed scar, grinning at the shudder that rolled down the smaller man’s spine. “But your dad sold you to me and I’m not going to give up what’s mine. I’m sure my bondbite will overwhelm whatever pathetic alpha you let mount you’s mark.” With firm fingers over the scar, knowing the impact it would have, Seb pulled the smaller man up against the hard planes of his chest, his wings raising in preparation to press John’s down and hold them there as needed until the omega submitted to him.

John struggled and kicked and tried to beat his wings but the man was stronger than him. Failing that he started yelling, trying not to panic.

The sound of his mate’s cry across the grounds hit him shortly before the scent of his fear and panic did. Sherlock had already been on his way to collect his errant omega when he’d heard his cry, and he immediately broke into a run. Turning a corner, across the courtyard, he saw his tiny mate being bracketed by a large alpha’s wings, a large hand clamped over his mating mark and making his omega tremble. The alpha practically flew across the yard, his coat billowing out behind him as his wings aided his haste.

John felt rather than saw his alpha. But he did see his attacker snap his head up. Taking advantage of the distraction he brought a knee up, trying to break free. His father may have sold him, but he wasn't going to go quietly.

His mate broke free of his captor with a knee to the groin a split second before Sherlock barrelled into the stranger, sending them both tumbling through the air, only their wings keeping them from crashing into the ground. Both alphas landed on their feet, postures defensive, teeth bared, feathers fluffed, and wings spread wide. He couldn’t risk a glance backwards to his mate, couldn’t take his eyes off his challenger, but he spent a long minute just breathing the air, picking out his omega’s emotions from the scents he was letting free, listening carefully for the sounds he was making. There was anger and fear, but also stubbornness. But no pain. John was fine.

John was breathing heavy, but he moved next to his alpha. He saw the stranger sizing them both up and sneering. "He's rightfully mine. I paid for 'im."

“It’s a shame buying omegas isn’t legal any longer,” Sherlock snarled back. “And John is not yours. He is mine, and he is mine willingly. Leave.” His mate had moved to his side, hovering just behind his raised wing. It was a good thing he didn’t attempt to duck under it because the alpha had only the barest clues as to what instinct would drive him to do to keep his mate as far away from the challenger as he possibly could. “Leave!” he snarled again, wings raising even higher.

The strange alpha gave a cruel smile and launched himself at Sherlock. There was a clash of fists and wings. John looked for an opening. There, he grabbed a wing and yanked.

Sebastian howled in pain, immediately following the tugging on his captured wing backwards to relieve the pain. Even in fights, people didn’t touch wings, the limbs powerful enough to keep them in the air, but not powerful enough to withstand any sort of attack. The hand on his wing had no such compunction. And as the hands yanked hard, pulled him farther away from the other alpha, he realised it was the small man manhandling him. Instinctually, he turned, needing to put the omega in its place, but it left his back open for his other wing to be ensnared by larger hands. The pressure on his second wing was even more excruciating, more knowledgeable in ways to cause pain with the least amount of effort. In short order, he was forced, snarling, to his knees.

Mycroft was suddenly behind them with a police officer. "Sebastian Moran," he pronounced. "We've been looking for you a long time."

As much as the sight of Mycroft continued to annoy him, he was pleased to see the intruder in cuffs in short order. The other alpha was practically dragged away, snarling all the while. Sherlock didn’t move until he was out of sight and then he promptly wrapped his omega up in his wings, kissing him as he growled with arousal. Seeing John like that, taking control and exerting it over an alpha, was a beautiful sight, and he wanted to see it again. Even more than that, he wanted to drop to his knees right here in the courtyard and worship the short-but-thick omega cock until his mate came down his throat.

John grinned, breathing heavy. "Come on. Nest. You can wait a few minutes."

Sherlock returned the grin and nearly dragged his mate away from his frowning brother. Sure, they could fly back, but the half-run they were returning to his rooms in only amplified his arousal. Judging by the growing scent of slick in the air, it was doing the same for his omega. They barely made it inside the door before they were all over each other, clothes being ripped away without care, and before either of them were fully undressed, the alpha was on his knees in front of his mate, tan hands threading through his hair and holding his head in place as John fucked his mouth.

"Oh yes," growled John, hips thrusting. "You're all I need. You're mine, Sherlock." He hoped Sebastian would go away for a very long time. Of course his father would try to sell him. Asshole.

His mate was far from gentle with him as he took his face roughly. It was all Sherlock could do to moan encouragingly and curl his fingers around taut thighs. He cock was so achingly hard where it bobbed freely between his legs, and he knew there was nothing he could do to alleviate the sensation other than to stroke it. But for that, he would wait. He didn’t want to come until he was inside of John. He extended one long finger, pressing urgently and rhythmically against his omega’s prostate from the outside. John’s hips jerked at the onslaught, forcing his cock down Sherlock’s throat as far as it would go until he was gagging from it. Even still, he refused to stop, loving the way his mate was filling him, dominating him. He pressed harder.

John cursed and yanked Sherlock's hair, producing a delicious moan. This was what Sherlock loved. He wanted John to dominate him. And damn if that wasn't a fantastic sensation. This was why Sherlock was the only alpha for him. The long fingers pressed against his prostate again and he moaned, so wet and ready. He roughly pulled out and pinned Sherlock with another growl, sinking onto his cock.

The alpha’s groan of loss (he’d wanted John to come down his throat so he could taste him for days) became a strangled moan as a tight, wet heat enveloped his cock, gravity pulling his mate onto the small bulb of his growing knot. Hands pinned his wrists to his wings and wings were draped heavily over his legs, keeping his entire body immobilized as John fucked himself on his cock. All he could do was toss his head back and rock it from side-to-side as his omega took his pleasure from them both.

"God, Sherlock, you're amazing," panted John, riding him hard. He slammed down on the growing knot. "No one else could handle me as their omega." He gave a cry as the full knot pushed inside him and he came across Sherlock's chest. Shaking, he let up one hand so he could drag fingers through his come and give it to Sherlock to suck.

If the feeling of John’s muscles convulsing around his cock and his knot weren’t enough to make Sherlock come, then the come-covered fingers pressing between his lips were. The alpha groaned at the taste and he came deep, body straining against his immobilisation as his cock pulsed out wave after wave of seed. The fingers pulled from his mouth and he whined, only to stop when they swept through the mess on his stomach and pressed between his lips again. For a long time, it was just that: John feeding him his come and Sherlock ejaculating a little more at each fresh taste. Out of nowhere, he was struck with the wonder of what would happen should his seed take root? He didn’t even realise his hand freed by his omega’s actions was palming his mate’s belly, stroking it contemplatively, until a smaller hand laid over his and he looked up to meet wide, wary eyes.

"I don't think I've caught. Haven't had heat yet." He searched Sherlock's eyes. "Course we can use protection, if you'd rather." He wasn't sure himself if he wanted a child right now.

The alpha curled inward, extending his neck to nuzzle his omega’s belly slowly, taking a moment to just breath in the scent of him and them. “You’ve not caught yet, no,” he murmured, trailing the tip of his nose in lazy non-patterns. “But I look forward to the scent of you when you do.” He lay back down to look his mate in the eye, snagging a hand and pressing a light kiss to the palm in his grip. “Whenever you are ready to be caught, I will catch you,” he promised, a quirk to his lips at his own double meaning.

"I want to finish school, if you don't mind waiting for me." He squeezed his alpha’s hand and ran a hand through the curly hair.

“I will wait for however long you wish, John Watson,” he promised. “I know you mock my impatience frequently, but I can be patient when it matters and nothing has ever mattered more.” The hand in his hair stilled and he turned his head to press a kiss to the sensitive skin of his mate’s wrist.

John moaned softly. "I couldn't have chosen anyone more perfect for me."

Sherlock smiled at his mate and tugged him down for a proper kiss, rolling his hips up into his alpha’s and enjoying the pulsations caused when he swirled his tongue just right in John’s mouth. When he finally released his mate’s lips, the warm body straddling him shuffled and settled, laying over him, breathing deeping as John slipped towards sleep. “No, you could not have,” he agreed, wrapping his arms and wings around his mate and letting them fall asleep on the floor of his nest, where they were warm, safe, and most of all, loved.

FIN