This story starts with John receiving a card, on which the summary is printed. Due to FFN restraints, I am unable to share that image with you on here, but I am able to make the bee on the stationery as the story image. To see the image, please visit the story on AO3 (/works/1692707) or visit my tumblr themadkatter13-fanfiction. Thank you.
Chapter 1 of 8.
That was all that had been in the matching envelope John had been handed half an hour ago. The woman who'd hand-delivered it, a smartly-dressed beta with a Blackberry attached to her hand, had been accosted by his father seconds later to be force-fed tea and biscuits, giving John the chance to escape up to his room to process the momentousness of what he'd been presented. He knew his dad had done it on purpose and it was one of many reasons he was thankful for the beta.
As far as things went, arranged marriages and courtship proposals weren't as common now as they had been in the past, but they weren't exactly uncommon either. And they were only ever formed between families with equivalent social and economic standing. In fact, right after presenting as an omega, dad had convinced mom to enter John into one with a well-off family and their slightly older alpha son. But then again, that had been before mom died, and before John had broken off the engagement. But this arrangement, this proposal, there was no question to the wealth gap. There wouldn't have been one even if mom hadn't died either. So why were they interested in him? For fuck's sake, the stationery in his hands felt more expensive than the laptop on his desk.
His laptop... Maybe he could look this alpha up? He preferred to spend his time outdoors and he still tended toward paper and pen when it came to his schoolwork, so it was a slow, but steady, process to peck in 'Sherlock SW Holmes'. But as soon as he did, the results that popped up tugged at the corners of his mouth and kept pulling with each one he opened. What had emerged from his search was a plethora of mating announcements, announcing 'Alpha Sherlock SW Holmes's esteemed mating to the beautiful, wealthy Omega [...]', each with a different omega's name. But that wasn't all that was turned out. For each mating announcement, there was an announcement of that bond being broken less than two weeks later. There was four years worth of it all.
Emotion was building in a slow burn in his heart: anger that this alpha had yet to be arrested for doing something not just illegal but also unthinkably heinous, and horror that the Holmes family wanted for him to be the next reject. He didn't realise his jaw and hands were clenched painfully tight until an arm wrapped around his waist and his computer was slid from one lap to another. Harry was quiet for a long moment as she scanned through the pages John had opened. At last, she let out a deep sigh, closed both browser and computer, and put it on the bed behind them.
"You know how bad off we've been since mom died," she started, voice soft and arm delivering a comforting squeeze to his middle. "But dad and I aren't going to force you into this, especially if that prick isn't right for you. We're just asking that you at least give meeting him a go."
"Yeah," he said after a minute of silent contemplation. "Yeah, okay."
.oOo.
If the stationery hadn't been quite enough to make the differences between their families clear, the hotel his family had been instructed to did. Even in their finest, the Watsons were still shabbier than the doorman, and the decor in the top floor's hallway had to be more expensive than all of their wardrobes combined. John's hand was steady but his palms were damp and he wiped them on his trouser legs before raising a fist to rap sharply on the door directed by the concierge. His father and sister were comforting presences flanking him as the door opened to reveal the same beta who'd delivered the proposal. The same Blackberry as before was still just as attached to her hand as she led them into the sitting room where he was greeted with the sight of an alpha male and omega female around his father's age, a beta male with an umbrella around Harry's age, and a stupidly gorgeous alpha male who looked about his age... and also looked to be in the midst of a massive, childish sulk. All four of them were dressed in suits just as fancy, or fancier, than those they'd passed in the lobby. John had never felt more out of his league.
"Hello, John, how are you today?" the omega woman greeted, warm, polite smile gracing her beautiful face. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips before he could answer.
"Uh, good, ta. You?" He didn't really know where to look. Should he be eyeing the alpha he suspected was Sherlock? Or did this clearly traditional family expect him to keep keep his head down? Well, he was fine with doing the former, but if they expected the latter, they had another thing coming.
"I am also well, thank you. And this must be your sister, Harriet, and your father, James?" John didn't bother correcting her that his sister prefered 'Harry' and that dad prefered 'Jim'; this woman couldn't get more formal if she tried. Harry and dad smiled Watson-polite at her, murmuring greetings as they nodded, and they both received the same warm smile from the woman.
"It's lovely to meet you all. This is my alpha, Sigger, my eldest son, Mycroft, and my youngest, Sherlock." The older alpha and the beta nodded their greetings politely enough, but the younger alpha pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, glaring. John blinked in surprise. Sherlock couldn't have been more clear that he didn't want to be here if he'd just shouted it. Was there more to those articles than what he saw? Or did the alpha just take offense to his family's choice in a poor, plain-looking omega like John? "Sherlock, don't be rude. Go greet John. Properly." John almost smiled at the hard edge on the command, and he was sure it would have been worded more threateningly had the two been in private.
The alpha stood suddenly, the grace of the movement and his unexpected height sparking the smallest embers of attraction in John's belly. And he was (distractingly) attractive: dark curly hair, intelligent grey eyes, high sharp cheekbones, all long lines and slim muscle, pleasantly unlike the beefhead alphas he's more accustomed to seeing. Harry and dad sidled away from him to sit on the sofa opposite the other Holmes as the alpha approached, John doing nothing to meet him halfway, even going as far as raising his chin challengingly; he hadn't forgotten the research he'd done. The action earned a raised eyebrow from each of the seated Holmeses and Watsons and a look of sudden interest from the approaching alpha rather than the annoyance John had anticipated. It was... pleasantly abnormal.
Neither of them said a word to each other when Sherlock stopped a hair's breadth from him, just simply spent a moment sizing one another up. This close, the slimness he'd found attractive a moment ago he began to find a bit more concerning with the realisation that the other looked underweight for someone of his height. The rest of him was even more impressive and intense at this range, those eyes bright and focused, pupils unusually small in a way that made him frown suspiciously. But fuck, he was beautiful; beautiful in the kind of way that made John, normally a confident bloke, feel self-conscious about his looks.
By now, Sherlock should have bent his head to scent John and to allow John to scent him in return but he was still just staring and it made the omega want to fidget. He held still for no other reason than pure stubbornness to not reveal any weakness. He knew a predator when he saw one.
"Sherlock Holmes, you will scent your guest properly and you will not say a word." The snapped words made John blink in surprise at what had previously seemed to be a mild-mannered omega. The look on her face was tense, and he remembered again the announcements he'd come across. His own face tightened at the memory and he wondered what kind of trouble her son had caused her throughout all of this. Sherlock's head tilted, eyes becoming more intense as if he could suss out the cause for John's sudden shift in mood.
Knowing it was going to get done before he left, whether either of them liked it or not, he swiftly unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt and shifted it to expose his neck. This part always made him nervous, having a strange alpha's teeth that close to his scent gland, even when he knew it was a biological fact that a bond could only be laid during intercourse. When Sherlock failed to follow suit, John didn't bother trying to stop the annoyed sigh as he reached up to undo the alpha's top buttons for him, shifting the shirt and suit jacket to fully expose the long pale neck that made his mouth dry. Grey eyes searched his for a long moment before that dark curly head finally bent down and a nose pressed against his scent gland. It was about dame ti-
He let out an involuntary moan as Sherlock's position forced John's nose to the alpha's scent gland, and he accidentally, and quite unpreparedly, took a deep whiff straight from the source. There were a great deal of archaic traditions still in play nowadays, and while John wanted most of them abolished, scenting on the first date was one he approved of. Scenting ensured compatibility: if your mate didn't like how you smelled, the less likely it was that the bond would stick, much less the pregnancy; more than that, the more your mate liked your scent, the larger and more frequent the litters you would carry and birth. And Jesus Christ, if he smelled to Sherlock anything like how Sherlock smelled to him, then he could end up with massive litters, and a lot of them. Fucking hell, he'd never smelled any better scent in his life, and even Sherlock was still running the tip of his nose up and down John's neck like he couldn't stop. Still, even if they were 100% compatible on both ends, he had words that needed saying. Slowly, discreetly, he broke away from that perfect scent and stood on his toes as he tilted his neck and chin so that his lips were pressed against the curve of a delicate ear in a butterfly's kiss and the other man stopped scenting him immediately.
"I've looked you up, Sherlock Holmes," he whispered, "and if what the papers are writing about you are true, if you plan on treating me the same way, you will regret it. Immensely. I am not rubbish and I will not be treated as such. Do you understand me?" In the split second it took for John to drop back to his heels, a burst of alpha arousal hit the still air of the hotel room and the room's other occupants, his family and Sherlock's, were on their feet in seconds, eager to remove him from what smelled like an alpha diving towards feral. As soon as someone took a step forward though, two arms, stronger than they looked but not as strong as they should have been, wrapped tightly around him and the alpha growled at anyone who attempted to get closer, pupils sluggishly struggling between constricted and dilated.
"I never!" Violet gasped, expression one of shock as her son snarled at her. "Sherlock has never reacted this way before!" John had had a hypothesis growing in the back of his mind ever since the alpha currently wrapped around him had first stepped into his personal space. With no small amount of effort, John managed to dislodge one arm enough to roll up the sleeve past the elbow.
There weren't track marks in the crook of Sherlock's elbow. There was a track mark. Just one. But it had seen frequent use. And it had seen recent use. His lip curled in disgust as his body went rigid in the snarling alpha's arms. Suddenly, the feral alpha quieted, attention drawn from the potential threats by his omega's abrupt change in demeanour. His arms loosened and his hands moved to John's hips, stroking lightly as he made a questioning sound and tilted his head in clear puzzlement. Just as that curly head dropped down a second time, cold fury made him numb and John stepped away from the long-fingers and the pretty face and swung his hand.
SLAP
Sherlock's head snapped to the side with the motion and red bloomed across the pale skin in the wake of John's palm. Before anyone could do anything else, John had a bony wrist enclosed in his fingers and he twisted it painfully, turning the alpha's back to his chest and bending the elbow, forcing the captured hand up between just-as-bony shoulder blades.
"Shower?" he inquired softly, tone no indication of the utter anger and betrayal he felt because of this proposed-to-be-his alpha. Sherlock's brother was watching him with knowing approval, but Sherlock's parents and his own family just looked shocked and confused. The beta woman appeared again to point him to his request and, silently, he marched the idiot right into the beautifully tiled stall and promptly turned it on, temperature: arctic. The cat-like way the man in his grasp responded to the water, hissing and spitting, would have been funny in any other situation, but all of John's patience had evaporated in the face of his discovery and he shoved the alpha to the floor, forcing him to endure the spray.
"I am beyond insulted that you felt the need to get high just to meet me," he said, trying his best to keep emotion from his voice. Sherlock stopped struggling at his words and pulled up to his chest, his one free arm wrapping around them as he dropped his head to his knees, not unlike like how he'd attempted to sulk on the sofa a few moments ago, but John had the impression he was actually being listened to. "But I told Harry and dad I'd make an effort. So if you're still interested in... this, us, then get sober before you call on me again." Quite finished with the situation for the moment, he released the taller man and walked out of the toilet. Behind him, as he saw in his peripheral when he turned the corner, Sherlock was still where he left him, a drenched ball of shamed alpha.
The two older Holmeses were pictures of class as they sipped tea with their other son, but their body lines were tense and they started when John emerged from the hallway.
"Thank you for having me," he said without stopping his direct path towards the door.
"What happened, Johnny?" Harry called as he opened the door. He bit his tongue to keep back a scathing report as he passed over the threshold and kept going. Behind him, he could hear Harry cursing as her and dad scrambled after him.
The ride home, seemingly in the same limo with the same driver that had picked them up only a short hour ago, was thankfully quiet. John kept his head turned towards the window the entire time, and when they arrived home, he was the first inside, striding purposefully for his room and locking the door once inside before throwing himself face first on his bed.
John had never before had such mixed feelings. On anything. On one hand, there was not wanting an alpha in the first place, nor wanting a junkie for one if he took an alpha, and those announcements were incredibly concerning. On the other, he'd be blind if he didn't find the alpha attractive, he'd definitely smelled compatible, they really hadn't gotten a chance to get to know one another, and, possibly most importantly, John had first-hand experience of being on the wrong end of a story told by an unhappy twat twisting the facts. He honestly knew nothing about Sherlock from Sherlock, and it was that more than anything that helped him decide to give the alpha a second chance. If he even wanted it.
TBC
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