
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2662835.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_Holmes_&_Related_Fandoms
  Relationship:
      Sherlock_Holmes/John_Watson
  Additional Tags:
      Omega_Verse, Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Oral_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Fluff
      and_Angst
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-09-15 Words: 1791
****** Secrets and Desires ******
by VincentMeoblinn
Summary
     John and Sherlock share a night of passion, but then Sherlock pushes
     John away. It turns out he has a secret that could break them
     forever.
 
 
 
It had started the way John had imagined it would while tossing off in his
bedroom late at night. They’d come home high on adrenaline from a case, stumble
through the door laughing and shoving at each other, shoved a bit too hard, and
then ended up apologizing as they picked up something broken… then the look…
then the hunger… then the frantic snog on the couch. What had happened after
that was a surprise, to say the least, and John had nearly convinced himself he
was dreaming. Sherlock had tugged down his trousers and sucked him into
oblivion while fingering his arse. John had come over and again, shouting
himself hoarse as Sherlock took things a step further and forced one more
orgasm from him than John thought he had in him. He’d laid there limp and giddy
with pleasure, but when he’d tried to reciprocate Sherlock had gently pushed
him down.
“That was for you, John,” Sherlock had whispered, kissing him gently, “To bed
with you- your own bed. Goodnight, John.”
“You can’t throw me a cliché romantic line one moment and then tell me to go to
my bed alone the next,” John had slurred, pushing himself upright as Sherlock
headed for his room.
He’d gotten no response and the next day Sherlock had told him firmly to ‘leave
it’ every time he’d tried to bring it up. So he’d started asking him out.
Daily. He’d tried to initiate their intimacy again after a case and been
soundly pushed away, though with a rather sad smile from Sherlock. It made no
sense. Sherlock was the sort to deny himself only when he thought it was
beneficial to ‘The Work’. He was otherwise a hedonistic bohemian with the taste
of the English gentry- as full of contradictions as he was his own high opinion
of himself. So John stubbornly decided not to give up until he had his Alpha on
top of him where he belonged.
The result was surprising.
Sherlock asked him out.
“Sorry what?” John blinked.
Sherlock sighed, “I said, meet me at Angelo’s at eight for a date.”
“I’m working tonight,” John frowned, “I’ll have to head straight there…”
“I see you every day, John: both when you are attractive and when you are hung
over. Your work clothes will be fine provided you haven’t been vomited on.”
“Okay… good point… still, we could push it back to-”
“Or I could change my mind.”
“Eight it is, and aren’t I just a little bit pathetic for caving in to you
immediately,” John sighed.
“Pathetic? No. Pathetic would be asking a sociopath out on a date for eight
weeks straight.”
“You will never let me live that down will you?”
“No.”
“You know what I won’t let you live down?”
“My sappy, movie cliché response after our pathetic excuse for copulation eight
weeks ago?”
“Hey, I came six times! That was not pathetic.”
Sherlock winced. Actually winced, and then fled the room with a grumbled
excuse.
XXX
Angelo was no moron. He owned a restaurant that prided itself on two things:
his cooking and his status as an unbonded Omega. Angelo brought in Alphas by
smelling like a potential mate, Betas by smelling like a matchmaker’s dream,
and Omegas and children by smelling like ‘mother’ and ‘home’ and ‘comfort’.
People who came to Angelos came with heat in their eyes and empty stomachs and
left with happy smiles and their belts loosened.
Except John.
John was annoyed. First Sherlock had left him waiting at the restaurant until
9- which meant he could have gone home and freshened up- and then he showed up
smelling odd and behaving like a complete arse. Angelo spent the first hour of
John’s incarceration in his restaurant reassuring him that Sherlock was just
bound to show up at any second, and the second hour trying to slip Sherlock
wine so he’d loosen up while throwing John apologetic looks. John for his part
did his best to refuse to be pushed away.
He tried to hold Sherlock’s hand when the berk refused to eat. 
Sherlock pulled his hand away and started fiddling with his phone while
alternating between talking to John and ignoring him.
He slipped out of one shoe and rubbed at Sherlock’s ankle.
At first he’d shivered and blushed, but then he’d pulled his feet back and
stuffed them under his seat despite his long legs making it undoubtedly
painful.
So John had tried to woo him with words, asking about past cases from before
they’d met and buttering him up.
Sherlock had taken the bait for a full twenty minutes until he’d caught on,
given John an angry look, and decided to call Lestrade out of the blue and chit
chat. Lestrade was so baffled he’d texted John while talking to Sherlock to ask
if Sherlock was high.
Good question.
“Sherlock, are you using?” John asked, pocketing his own mobile.
“What? No!” Sherlock stammered in surprise, “Why would you even… Damn it,
Lestrade! I’m not high!”
Sherlock hung up the phone and glared at John sullenly, arms folded like a
surly toddler. John sighed and rubbed at his forehead before facing him solidly
and deciding to get it over with.
“You’re trying to push me away. I get it. I respond better to direct statements
than hints, and you know that. So spit it out. What is this? Was it a one-off?
Because that’s fine, but I need you to tell me so I can put you behind me
because I still bloody want you right now.”
“You shouldn’t!” Sherlock snarled, “I’ve spent the last eight weeks rejecting
you!”
“Without giving me a reason and while looking like you didn’t really want to,”
John shrugged, “Did I misunderstand you?”
“I spent the entire night on my worst behavior with no cologne on!”
“A resounding ‘yes you did’ to the first and ‘who cares’ to the second.”
“Your instincts should care!” Sherlock snapped, then stood up and came round
the table.
John stood and found himself nose to… well, neck… with Sherlock. That was
apparently where he wanted him because he pushed John’s face against his neck.
Someone cleared their throat and a glass was dropped. They probably looked like
they were about to bond! John ignored it and placed his hands at Sherlock’s
hips and… stopped cold in shock. Sherlcok didn’t just smell off, he smelled
like… nothing.
“Why…” John backed up, licking his lips and frowning in confusion, “Why do you
smell like a Beta?”
Sherlock sank into his seat with a sigh and motioned for John to sit as well.
He did and then watched as Sherlock motioned him silent before waving to Angelo
to bring over that wine. Angelo poured them both a glass and then watched
discreetly from his kitchen. Once the other diners had gone back to their meals
Sherlock began to speak.
“It is imperative that no one finds out, John. No matter how much you hate me
for this you must know that.”
“Finds out what, Sherlock?” John asked in confusion.
“That I’m a Beta.”
“But you’re not. You’re an Alpha. I’ve lived with you for three years now.
You’re an Alpha. You smell like one, you act like one, you blood stomp around
like one, and you trigger all the Omega responses in me that an Alpha would.”
“That was all to get into the Yard, John!” Sherlock hissed, “Do you think
they’d take a Beta seriously? That’s an All-Alpha Club! They barely respect me
even with the shampoo, body wash, and cologne that stinks of Alpha!”
“So… your scent… the one I associate with my best friend and flatmate… the one
that permeates our flat and declares your territory… the one I’ve tossed off
to… it’s artificial?”
“Yes,” Sherlock replied miserably, “But you weren’t supposed to ever know
either. John, I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry,” John repeated, his tone disbelieving.
“I just wanted your respect!” Sherlock hissed, “I’ll understand if you want to
leave…”
“Sherlock, I’m pissed off you lied, but heaven knows you do that all the damn
time so I’ll get over that eventually. So no, I’m not moving out. I might tell
you to make your own damn tea for a while, though.”
“Yes,” Sherlock sighed, “But this changes everything. John. You weren’t
supposed to find me attractive. You can’t. No one ever was. That’s why I’m such
a consummated bastard.”
“Yeah, you’ll never convince me that’s fake,” John snorted sitting back and
folding his arms over his chest, “And this changes nothing.”
“I can’t give you a family,” Sherlock replied miserably.
“Don’t want one,” John shrugged, “I’m past my prime for bearing children,
Sherlock. My eggs were donated years ago.”
“I can’t knot you.”
“I’ve got toys and there are other ways around that.”
“I can’t… fill you… and I’ll not… ahem… enjoy…”
“I’ll do Keigel’s until I’m tight enough.”
“I… that’s a bit… really?” Sherlock swallowed hard.
“I’ve been with Beta’s, Sherlock,” John snorted, “It’s not rocket science.
Hell, it’s not even secondary school science. It’s sex. Plain, everyday, sex.”
“Your instincts will drive you away from me,” Sherlock replied softly, “I’ll
not commit myself to you only to be abandoned when you find an Alpha.”
“I’m not looking for one and any who come sniffing around can eat my Browning.”
“I’ll try to match you up with one. It’s my instinct!” Sherlock moaned, sitting
back and rubbing at his face.
“You haven’t yet.”
Sherlock peered from between his fingers and then dropped them into his lap,
giving John a disgusted look.
“John… why do you think you always go on the cases involving Lestrade?”
“Lestrade?” John asked, wrinkling up his nose, “Really? Bloody hell, Sherlock,
he’s all wrong for me. If you’re this shit of a matchmaker we’ll have no
problem.”
“I know,” Sherlock sighed, “He’s right for my brother, but the bastard refuses
to be matched up so I keep throwing Lestrade at you since he’s the only worthy
Alpha I know.”
“Again, sounds like it’s not a problem.”
“You really think this could work?” Sherlock asked, peering at him curiously.
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” John asked, then leaned forward and placed his hand
palm-up on the table.
Sherlock hesitantly took his hand, smiling softly as he gave John a shy look
beneath his eyelashes. John prompted him to eat and even managed to get desert
into him before taking him home to show him his toy collection. They took it
slowly, working their way up to sex as Sherlock was still very hesitant with
his heart. It wasn’t long until they couldn’t imagine life without the other
and couldn’t recall why they had taken so long to wind up in each other’s arms.
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