"So, you and Lestrade, eh? I didn't expect that." John Watson's voice came through the speaker of Sherlock's mobile. "Of course, I also didn't expect you to call me up in the middle of the night to tell me you are actually an Omega and that Lestrade was with you during your Heat, which apparently happened last week. It's quitea lot to take in."
Sherlock shrugged, "Yes, well, as we've established, you're an idiot, John." He paced the length of the sitting room of his flat, restlessly.
"Right," John replied, drily. "Thanks for that. Any other reason for this call, besides interrupting my sleep and insulting my average intelligence?"
"Above average, John, I don't acquaint myself with any old goldfish." Sherlock flopped into his armchair, wincing slightly. Greg had not been wrong about his arse being sore. It was a delicious kind of pain; his body forcing him to recall the various ways Greg had taken him apart and brought him to peaks of ecstasy over and over.
"Goldfish?" John echoed, snapping Sherlock from his reverie. 'What was John talking about? Ah yes.'
"Never mind, something Mycroft said once. Anyway, I called you because Ineedyouradvice." He ran the words together to get to the point as painlessly as possible.
Of course, John seems to have another plan in mind.
"Oh, ho, my advice, really?! What could I, a mere goldfish as you say, possibly advise the great Sherlock Holmes about?" Sherlock rolled his eyes. Heaven forbid John make this easy for him.
Sherlock coughed. "Right, well, like I said, Greg and I -"
John cut him off with a chortle. "He's Greg now, is he? Know his name now, do you? I would hope you would, considering. Look at you, you're quite the smitten kitten."
"Yes, thank you John, for reminding me why I so rarely seek another's input on matters regarding my life. Love to Mary." Sherlock quickly pulled the phone away from his ear and made to thumb the disconnect button when he heard John shouting through the small speaker. He raised the phone back to his head.
"- I swear if that bloody pillock hangs up on me before I can apologize, I will punch him right in the ovaries. Which I now know he has, thank you very much, 'Mister I Lie to My Friends on a Regular Basis about Extremely Important Things'!" John blustered.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow and interjected, "Well, I must say your apology is going swimmingly, John. Really, what with the insults and the character assassination."
John spoke up, "Sherlock, listen, I'm sorry. That was rude of me. Seriously, how can I help you?"
Sherlock took a deep breath.
"Yes." He paused.
Best to just get it out there, like ripping a plaster off.
"I may have asked Greg to Bond with me at one point during my Heat and I want to ask him again now that both our minds are free of hormone induced stupor."
He closed his eyes. Now it was out in the open. He told John, now if he could just figure out how to talk about Bonding with Greg, the one he actually wanted to Bond with, that would be lovely.
It had been a week since Sherlock's Heat ended. He and Greg had parted amicably, if you can call the Alpha pressing the younger man against the door and giving him a thorough snogging merely "amicable." Both men had been busy in the interval, Lestrade at the Yard while Sherlock caught up with a backlog of emails and posts to his website. They'd stayed in fairly constant communication via text, but those messages had been innocuous. Merely one checking in with the other. No mention of the conversation Greg had wisely suggested they put off until clearer heads prevailed. Sherlock had not wavered in his conviction that he wished to Bond with the older man but could not bring himself to mention something so monumental in a text.
"… and you're not even listening to me, are you? Probably off in your mind palace. For the love of God," John's voice broke through the detective's musings and he started, sitting up straight in his chair.
"Er, sorry, yes, I'm here. You were saying?" Sherlock focused on the unbelievably awkward conversation he was having with his best friend. His Conductor of Light. John would help him figure out what to say and how best to say it. John always set him right.
"I was saying, you should just invite him over and talk about it. Obsessing over how the conversation will go won't make broaching the topic any easier. What did he say before?" John asked.
Sherlock quickly gave him the PG rated version of his heat and his and Lestrade's conversations regarding Bonding. While part of him would have delighted in making John as uncomfortable as possible with the explicit details of his Heat, the larger part of him wanted to keep it private, something that belonged to him and Greg alone. It was special and it was theirs.
John was quiet for a brief moment, absorbing what Sherlock told him. "Right then. I'm sure Lestrade's feelings haven't changed. He told you he wanted to Bond with you. He wouldn't lie to you, especially during a Heat. Medical journals have suggested that both Alphas and Omegas tend to be brutally honest during a Heat regarding how they feel or what they want. They may not normally want to be so open with their emotions but with the hormones surging their mental walls tend to crumble."
Sherlock absorbed this. "Thank you John, you have been most helpful. I'll contact Greg at once."
"Great! Let me know how it goes. Not you know, the specifics, just um, generally." John sounded a bit uncomfortable.
Sherlock chucked drily, "I will. Love to Mary." He hung up the phone before John could respond.
He immediately opened his text messages and composed a text for Lestrade. He clicked send and sighed.
Come to Baker Street for dinner. We'll get takeaway and talk. - SH
All he could do was wait.
It turned out he didn't have to wait long. Five minutes after he sent the text, he received a message from Lestrade.
I'll be there with bells on, my luscious Omega. ;-) - L
Don't call me that. - SH
Try and stop me. :-) - L
Stop winking at me, it's ridiculous. - SH
That's my luscious Omega. I'll see you at 8. xx - L
*sigh* - SH
Sherlock couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. Things were going to be alright. He couldn't wait to see his Alpha.
One Year Later
Lestrade shuddered as his orgasm ripped through him, his Omega clenching around him, milking his knot. He pressed a kiss to the Bond mark on Sherlock's skin and rolled over, keeping them pressed together as his knot connected them.
Sherlock snuggled against his Alpha and sighed with contentment. "I love you, Greg."
Greg nuzzled the nape of Sherlock's neck and hummed in response. He pressed a series of kisses on the younger man's glistening skin. "I know. I love you too…"
Sherlock was drifting off to sleep when he heard Greg speak.
"… My luscious Omega."
Sherlock smiled and hugged his 'Big, Strong Alpha' closer. He'd never tell Greg he called him that in his head or that he loved the ridiculous endearments the older man peppered into his speech when they were alone.
He'd never been happier.
The two men soon fell asleep, wrapped in a loving embrace.