John Watson paced the floral patterned carpet of the hotel room as he waited for his companion. He was anxious, his skin seeming to crawl and itch over his muscles, demanding attention. For the sake of over preparedness, John rechecked the supplies in the room making sure he was ready. The mini-fridge was stocked with bottled water, sports drinks, and fresh fruit while the top of the dresser contained boxes of his favorite biscuits and snacks. There was a stack of fresh flannels next to the bed and several sets of clean sheets that housekeeping provided without even having to be asked. They knew why he was there since he had to request an omega suite to keep out any unwanted alpha attention.
Hidden in a dresser, John also had a box with toys – dildos, vibrators, and plugs – in case his companion decided not to show up; however, John somehow knew he would never need them, whatever alpha he invited, no matter how young, successful, or beautiful, always accepted the invitation. The idea of spending three days with an unbound omega in heat was a chance no sane alpha would ever pass up even if it was only a one time affair. John never slept with the same alpha twice and never gave his real name, far too risky for an omega that wished to remain unbound. Instead, John would conjure up a fake name and arrange a rendezvous in a hotel.
Although he could go into heat once every three months – usually lasting three days – John was a cautious man and only allowed himself to indulge once a year. And an indulgence it was. Since puberty, John kept meticulous records of his heat cycles so it was only a matter of abstaining from his hormone suppressant drugs for two days before his predicted heat cycle, and for the next 72 hours, he allowed himself to become the omega that roiled under the surface. Sex during omega estrus was a mind blowing, excessive ordeal that defied all logical thought. During the three days, John would turn away from his carefully cultivated beta persona and transform into a sex god, insatiable and irresistible.
Also hidden from sight but easily accessible was John’s Browning he had kept after returning from Afghanistan. John’s greatest fear since the time he had learned he was an omega was to be bonded to a man he didn’t love. Even though the temptation was always there – damn hormones – John knew his own sense of independence would stop him from initiating a bond, but there was always the looming threat of force bonding. Although highly illegal and punishable by death, force bonding still occurred sometimes with seemingly sensible alphas. At his age, John was not taking any risks. The older an omega was the more pheromones his body produced in hopes of snaring a suitable mate. Essentially John was at war with his own instincts. While his brain and heart earned for a simple, independent life, his very essence craved the power of a dominating alpha.
Having learned long ago that the alphas didn’t care about his appearance when he was in heat, John didn’t bother dressing up. Instead, he wore simple track pants and a snug white t-shirt since they would be ripped off him almost immediately. In fact, he wondered why he bothered with the clothing at all, in his bothered state they felt impossibly cloying and hot, just another layer between him and his alpha. John groaned loudly, he was already losing control imagining himself as a helpless prince waiting for his brave knight.
With a shake of his head, John pushed away that image and reminded himself not to romanticize the alpha. He struggled to remember the man’s name and basic facts about his life. They had met in a pub last week and struck up a conversation on T.S. Eliot. John had been charmed by the alpha’s – no, Glenn’s – thoughts on Prufrock and decided he seemed kind and gentle enough not to be a threat. Glenn preferred German beer, indie rock, and wore a green cardigan. He was young, probably only 24, but John knew that was safer. While he actually was more attracted to older men, John chose young alphas to couple with because age only brought with it an increased desperation for omegas.
Suddenly, John was startled from his pacing by a hesitant knock at the door. With a flourish of the fingers on his dominant hand, John set his shoulders, took a deep breath, and turned the handle. He was greeted by the sight of Glenn, the young alpha, fidgeting nervously and clutching a small bouquet of flowers. John could barely suppress his grin; he always found it endearingly ridiculous when alphas brought him flowers. The antiquated tradition of courting an omega was so heavily ingrained from childhood stories that first time alphas could hardly seem to help but try to impress him.
“Are those for me?” John asked Glenn who was standing stock still, eyes comically enlarged.
In a hushed, almost reverential voice, the young man sputtered, “It’s true, you really are an omega.”
John smiled in amusement before taking a step back and shedding his t-shirt. Glenn gulped loudly and drank in John’s compact, military toned physique.
“Why don’t you step inside and close the door. I don’t think I can hold out much longer,” John purred shamelessly.
The alpha jerked into motion and fumbled inside, practically slamming the door behind him. In his haste, he threw the flowers toward the dresser quickly followed by his duffle bag, shoes, socks, and cardigan. John braced himself as Glenn, already overwhelmed with lust, launched himself at the doctor and began his enthusiastic assault. Almost instinctively, his mouth went to John’s neck, sucking, kissing, and biting, trying to take in every taste and smell of John’s overpowering pheromones.
John moaned loudly and allowed himself to revel in the feel of the young man’s strong body and smooth skin. Like most alphas, Glenn’s tall frame was accented by lean muscles procured through the most minimal efforts, a look that betas could only achieve through the strictest diet and exercise regime. Being an omega, John was small but with his years of military service he developed enough musculature to easily pass as a fit beta at first glance. No one had ever noticed his natural grace and athleticism was far superior to what a beta would possess, but that was all part of John’s well crafted illusion. In fact, the only person in the world that knew his real name and that he was an omega was his sister who understood and respected his desire to keep his secret.
“Oh Paul, you taste so amazing,” Glenn moaned with a low rumble.
John’s fuzzy brain struggled to understand who Paul was until he remembered that was the fake name he gave. In response, John grasped the back of the alpha’s head and took a moment to stare into his dark, lust blown eyes before bringing him into a crushing kiss. As he sucked on the alpha’s tongue, John let out a small whimper that seemed to make his partner grow even bolder and grab roughly at John’s ass. Soon John felt himself being lifted and tossed onto the bed behind him.
In an almost panicked motion, Glenn ripped away the rest of his clothing and stood at the foot of the bed, his erection furiously stiff. John swallowed at the sight and instinctively spread his legs in invitation. The only barrier remaining between them was John’s track pants that Glenn removed by grabbing the ends and pulling them off in one swift motion. John snaked his hand down to finger at the rim of his hole, already wet and leaking, twitching in anticipation.
“That is the sluttiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Glenn said with a low growl. “You’re just dying for my cock, aren’t you?”
“Oh God, yes,” John replied, all sense of modesty completely evaporated.
The alpha frantically crawled onto the bed and kissed his way up John’s left thigh. Once his mouth reached the junction of leg and hip, he dipped his shoulders and lifted John’s legs onto them to bring himself closer to John’s soaking entrance. When he felt his partner’s tongue laving and exploring his hole, John scratched at his back and bucked wildly, begging for more. Eventually, John found himself being effortlessly flipped onto his stomach making him raise his hips in response and press his face into his pillow, his hands fisted tightly in the sheets.
When John felt the young man’s engorged cock finally thrust into him, all remaining attachments to his rational mind disappeared. All that was left was the desperation to be filled and held by the strong body above him. He was no longer a decorated war hero, a respected doctor, and beloved brother; instead he was the perfect complement, a piece of a whole to the man pressed inside.
Glenn’s thrusts began to increase in pressure and go deeper when suddenly he began to expand. John moaned happily at the feeling but the young alpha began to whine in panic. Although it took a few moments, John realized it must have been his first time knotting.
Gathering what wits he had, John spoke, “Don’t worry, love. That’s just your knot.” When the alpha tried pulling out and found he couldn’t, John tried calming him, “We’re joined now . . . push in deeply and you’ll start coming . . . that’s it, relax . . . we’re going to stay like this for a while.”
When Glenn’s coherence caught up with him, he followed John’s advice and made short, deep thrusts until he began to spurt inside John. The sensation of the hot liquid pouring within pushed John through to his own orgasm, spilling onto the sheets. The alpha wrapped his arms around John’s chest and pulled him up to lean into his body. With his right hand, Glenn clasped John’s cheek to turn him so their mouths could connect.
Unlike the crazed kisses from earlier, they took their time and lazily explored each other’s mouths. John let loose a keening when his hole began to flex and contract around the alpha’s knot. Glenn dropped his head to lightly bite John’s neck as he began coming again at the omega’s urging. After the alpha’s second orgasm, John moved his hand back on the man’s hip and guided their connected bodies to lie on their sides. Once they were comfortable, the blissful young man wrapped his arms around John, holding him close as he peppered kisses along his neck and shoulder, whispering sweet words.
John always preferred it when alphas used endearments as opposed to the heated dirty talk some employed. Although he would never admit it, there were certain times John found the terms slut and bitch a turn-on especially when he was feeling particularly raw and primal, but particularly as he aged, the doctor found himself desiring the intimate words of a lover.
‘Dad, I don’t want to be bonded.’
‘It’s what everyone will expect, John.’
‘You’re not bonded!’
‘No, but I’m a beta and I chose to marry your mother.’
‘Why do betas and alphas and women get to choose whether they marry but I can’t?’
‘You’re special, John. You’ll be able to choose any alpha you want when it’s time. You could bond with an athlete or a millionaire or even a prince!’
‘But they won’t want me, they just want an omega. That’s all I’ll ever be.’
‘John . . . I suppose that never occurred to me.’
‘Of course not, it never occurs to anyone.’
‘Listen . . . I swear that you will never be forced to bond unless you want to. I’ll figure something out and you won’t have to bond until you’re truly in love.’
‘Yes, I promise.’
Stepping into his miniscule flat, John sighed and thought to himself, back to normal. He thought his three day sex marathon would do something to cure his boredom but it came crashing back almost instantly. Since returning from the war after being wounded, life seemed to have turned down the volume. Not only was there the fear of death and injury, the adrenaline of saving lives in Afghanistan, John also had the constant worry that he would be discovered.
Omegas were forbidden from serving in the military for three main reasons one of which was the constant presence of alphas. Because of their size, intelligence, and dominating personalities, alphas were aggressively recruited for the armed services. Many people believed that throwing an omega into the mix would cause a frenzy among troops. There was also the fear of capture. It was a cold hard fact of life that black market omega trading still occurred and an omega captured during battle was likely to be sold to the highest bidder, never seeing home again.
However, the main reason omegas could not serve, the reason people did not talk about, was that alphas could not stand the idea of harm coming to an omega. Although times had changed and the world was supposed to be equal, alphas still held most of the power and their concerns were the nation’s concerns. The old ideas still persisted that alphas were natural protectors, betas were their inferiors, and omegas were their prizes. As a pretend beta, John detested being treated as a second class citizen, and as an omega, he resented being treated like a precious flower. He believed that despite only making up about 1% of the population, omegas were still citizens and possessed every right to fight for their country.
If anything, John had proved it was entirely possible for an omega to have a long military career and not cause the unit to collapse or an international kidnapping incident. He supposed now that he was invalided, he could go public, become a military omega advocate, but he quickly pushed that thought away. Above all, John was a private man and did not want the media frenzy that would surely follow, not to mention the inevitable stream of alpha suitors that would come wanting to bond. Young Glenn had been clingy enough and had John not snuck out while he was sleeping, the alpha would have probably resorted to begging or worse.
Over the years, John had relationships with betas and even a few alphas but they never lasted more than a few months. He supposed it came down to trust issues. Since there was no one he had ever considered telling his big secret to, John walled himself off and made it clear that he was not willing to fully commit. For the sake of thoroughness, he even tried it with a woman but that was a complete no go. Omegas were incapable of sexual attraction to women. Why? No one had ever figured out, but it was how things were.
After two days of being back on his medication and pacing solemnly around his sad, little flat, John felt it was time to venture outside. Grabbing his cane and a light jacket, he made his way to the park where he happened upon an old friend from med school.
“Afghanistan or Iraq?” The young man asked with an almost nonchalance.
“Sorry?” John asked, hoping he had misunderstood.
“Which one was it: Afghanistan or Iraq?”
Once realization dawned on John, he stole a quick glance at Mike who was barely concealing a bemused grin. You bastard, John thought viscously. Stamford was always known to be the school’s matchmaker and it seemed that some things hadn’t changed. As if his life weren’t difficult enough, John was being invited to live with not only the most beautiful alpha he’d ever seen but apparently one possessing a whip-sharp intellect as well.
“Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you-”
“Ah, Molly, coffee, thank you,” Sherlock interrupted when a young woman entered the room. “What happened to the lipstick?”
“It wasn’t working for me,” Molly replied sheepishly. John had seen a variation of this exchange a thousand times; a woman pining for an alpha and being harshly ignored.
The alpha certainly didn’t help matters when he added, “I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth’s too small now.”
The man’s attitude was just another sharp reminder of why John had remained unbound all these years: alphas, when not trying to woo an omega or a beautiful woman, were generally arrogant assholes.
“How do you feel about the violin?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
As the man rattled off his impressive deductions, John felt a flare of danger he hadn’t felt since he was back in the desert. Only alphas, the smartest, most intimidating alphas were able to raise that sort of excitement within John. His common sense and dignity hated them with their massive intellects and egos, but his basest instincts craved their attention.
"The name’s Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker St." With a smug wink and grin, the alpha disappeared, leaving John breathless. Although it was foolish and would probably end horribly, John knew without a doubt that he would be sharing a flat with the man.