Chapter 33 Companions
Greg swore under his breath, demanding to speak to a supervisor after being strip searched.
His clothes were returned to him, and a man entered stammering a quick apology. Lestrade didn't want to hear it at this point, he just wanted to return home. Yes, home and take a long hot shower and soak in a bath of bleach. He winced, tucking his shirt into his trousers, he ached from such rough handling.
"I'm getting too old for this shit." He grumbled, ignoring the continued apologies.
"Please sir on behalf of the department accept our apology. If you'll just-"
"That'll be all." A familiar posh voice snapped, causing the Beta agent at Lestrade's side to flinch.
"Mycroft?" Lestrade growled, "Where the hell have you been? You know what don't answer that. Just know I'm going to kill your little brother."
"Something I've been promising myself for years. I do apologize Gregory but you will have to get in line. As the saying goes."
Lestrade was dehydrated and too frazzled to laugh, although that was pretty humorous, well at least for Mycroft.
"Please come along Gregory and I'll see you are returned home unmolested."
"Too late." Lestrade snapped gesturing for Mycroft to lead, "After you, your majesty."
Greg gave up trying to button his shirt or straighten his tie, his hands were shaking. Three men had overpowered the room with a scent of Alpha before one circled him with questions.
Greg started to laugh pulling out of this memory, recalling just how he first met John Watson. "That bastard Sherlock orchestrated this, I have half a mind to-"
"Gregory are you alright? You aren't making any sense." Mycroft snapped his fingers and some minion in black was holding a cool bottle of water out for Greg.
"Karma Mycroft, Karma is a bitch. " He accepted the water, leaning against the wall of the building. He took a deep breath of freedom, the crisp night air cleansing his lungs.
The group had made it through the many security doors and metal detectors without question. Greg, smirked recalling how Mycroft had growled at one Alpha security guard that asked for credentials. That was all Mycroft Holmes needed, because his group circled behind him and the young Alpha nervously took a step back.
"I apologize sir. I-I-mean. Please go on."
What a day, Greg sighed, what an odd couple of months this had turned out to be. And when did Mycroft Holmes get into town? How did he know Greg could use some help? The poor man looked just as exhausted as Greg felt.
Mycroft's sharp eyes continued to focus on the silver haired Alpha. "Perhaps we should have a doctor look you over. Have you eaten?"
"I've been in that room for over thirteen hours, I'm starved, tired and I need a drink. Come on Mycroft. You owe me a pint."
To Mycroft's surprise the DI was taking his arm and leading him towards the waiting car. The British Government had just returned home from overseas, and he found the idea of a drink very much appealing. That and there was a warmth spreading through him. The idea of sitting in the security and privacy of his black sedan with a disheveled Alpha male who was squeezing his arm, was a fantasy come life.
Mycroft didn't like the idea of his Greg-rather of his acquaintance stinking of other Alphas. They had tried to intimidate the DI and from the look of him they hadn't broken his resolve. Not that he was guilty, however interesting enough he hadn't given Sherlock up during questioning.
Mycroft leaned closer, he could help Greg get the scent of lesser males from him.
"You look like you had as good a day as me. So go on tell me." Greg pulled Mycroft in after him, very much unaware he was still holding the taller man's expensively tailored forearm.
He slid over to Mycroft offering him a drink from his half empty water bottle, Mycroft was unable to reply. Greg smelled delicious, and he was grinning, how disarming the man's smile could be. And then there was that teasing bit of skin just under the unbuttoned collar of his shirt.
The sunkissed skin underneath, spoke of holiday's on the beach or perhaps some kind of outside activity spent devoid of a shirt. Greg wasn't the type of conceded Alpha that would use a tanning bed. No this was a far more natural thing, the man's arms were a testament to some form of manual labor. What hobbies did Gregory Lestrade partake in? Mycroft knew he had such information somewhere in the rather large file his assistant had once compiled.
What control it took to not reach out and smooth the coarse hair peeking out from the opened shirt, his hands itched to wander.
"Mycroft you alright mate? You're looking a bit flushed. You sure you don't need any water?"
The car was moving, how did Mycroft miss the sound of door shutting? This impossibly handsome man was closer now, a well placed bump in the road could send Gregory toppling into his lap.
And as if right on cue that was what exactly happened.
Agent A was happy to be back in London, after the wild goose chase she had been sent on. A quick text was sent to Grandmere Holmes, she smiled to the driver directing him towards a less smoother part of the road. Quietly and carefully she closed the privacy window separating the driver from his passengers.
"We'll take the long way to the Diogenes." Agent A leaned back in the seat, it was good to be back home.
It was shy, moving through the open door, Sherlock held it open and stood aside. John had practically run from the place this morning, and now here he was. The sitting room was just as it was that morning a bit cluttered, the carpet had been cleaned of the blood stains from-he took a deep breath.
This was Sherlock's home, he needed to get over the memory of his attack.
"John, I'll move. I'll move right now. If you are too haunted-because of what happened."
"No." John shook his head firmly turning to the beautiful man now at his side. "No, I'm fine. It's just, it's just human nature."
"Sentiment?" Sherlock whispered with his warm baritone.
John nodded allowing himself to be taken into the tall Alpha's arms.
"Ah, sentiment. I'm not very good with these things."
"Right." John giggled burying his face in Sherlock's chest, taking a deep breath. "It'll take some time. I won't lie to you, I'm still not completely over it." John stepped away his hand resting on his scarred shoulder, eyes not meeting Sherlock's.
"John." Sherlock growled pulling the soldier to him, "John, so brave." With the grace of a violinist, long fingers stroked and petted John's short blond hair.
The Omega allowed this, it was slow and gentle and started at his hairline, moving down to cup the back of his head, and the Alpha nuzzled him.
John relaxed and those hands did their magic make quick work of his uniform and just as quickly the two men were laying naked in Sherlock's room.
The Alpha not accustomed to going slow when it came to intercourse forced himself to focus, he wanted his Omega to feel safe and protected. He fought his own instinct to take and claim, instead he allowed John to straddle him, he held back as the blond Omega explored his body.
The Alpha wasn't hiding the fact he found this a very pleasing experience, John had a dominating streak, and Sherlock rotated his hips up when John held his hands behind his head.
"Let's just see how good your restraint is." John kissed down the Alpha's neck swirling his tongue over one taut nipple then the other. "You don't touch me till I say."
Sherlock grinned, "We have all night."
John moved up to kiss the beautiful man, enjoying the play with tongues, the rich taste of coffee and was that tobacco?
The Omega wanted to concentrate on this, on the scent of arousal, on the taste of the willing Alpha, not the scar that was etched deep in his skin. Of all his scars this one weighed heavily on his mind. The monster's words haunted his dreams and for a minute panic started to take hold, last night he worked through this with a little liquid courage but no-
"John." Sherlock arched his back, wanted to feel friction, to feel John against him, "There is nothing about you that I find disgusting or disfigured. You are brave, clever and far from boring. And right now you are torturing me with your lack of touching."
The deep growl was enough to snap the Omega back from his wandering thoughts. This was what love felt like, he loved Sherlock and for the night he could pretend the Alpha shared the same feeling.