Chapter Text
The fact that Mycroft Holmes was an omega had become incidental to his life. He kept things carefully structured, had a three day heat every four months he carefully scheduled around, and any alpha who thought he could be cowed or intimidated quickly found out just how wrong they were. He was content with his lot in life and, other than the thorn in his side that was his younger brother, saw no reason his life wouldn't continue along the same path. Until the day Sherlock dragged alpha Gregory Lestrade into his life.
"I thank you for calling me," he told the Inspector as they headed down to the holding cells. In his mind, he was already gathering facts as he looked at the man: handsome, unbonded, alpha, promising career, patient.
"Not the first time I've dealt with Sherlock," said Lestrade. "I'm sure the assault charges will vanish by next week." He gave Mycroft a critical eye.
"As long as he stays clean," said Mycroft. "I understand he's been helping on some of your cases."
Lestrade stopped and pulled him into an alcove. Internally he braced himself for the slightly shorter alpha to get in his face and try to intimidate him. Tiresome really. He was so busy with his thoughts he missed that Lestrade was actually speaking. "...so I'd appreciate you keeping that aspect quiet."
"I must apologize Inspector," Mycroft couldn't keep all the surprise out of his voice. "I missed part of that."
Lestrade chuckled and stepped back. "I only said that I'd appreciate you keeping your brother’s involvement quiet."
Mycroft shifted his umbrella. "Of course. I can't imagine your superiors would be happy to know of his participation, even if he does do your job for you."
Lestrade raised an eyebrow. "Solving the case isn't the same as prosecuting the crime. Come on." He moved past Mycroft and back down towards the cells. Watching him, Mycroft knew he had to do more research on the Inspector.
Sherlock eyed the pair of them as Lestrade unlocked the door, quickly shuttering his gaze, but not before Mycroft saw the curiosity. "Come along, Sherlock. Good evening, Inspector Lestrade."
"Evening, Mister Holmes." As they walked away, Mycroft felt the alpha’s eyes on him and suppressed a shiver. Simple biology, that was all. The man intrigued him.
"You like him," smirked Sherlock when they got to the car.
"Nonsense. I'm only pleased we've found a way to keep you clean." Mycroft got in after him.
Sherlock looked out the window, smug look firmly in place. Mycroft briefly considered letting him face the assault charge, but decided against it. More trouble than it would be worth, and Sherlock didn't belong in jail. Besides, perhaps he would see the Inspector again.
**
A week later a rather irritated Inspector Lestrade walked into the office where Mycroft was working. "This better be good. I am not in the habit of getting into unmarked government vehicles."
"I am only a minor official. Sit, please, Inspector." Mycroft poured him a cup of tea.
"Rather stand, thanks. Ever heard of the bloody telephone?" Lestrade was clearly resisting the urge to pace. "Is this about Sherlock?"
Setting the tea in front of him, Mycroft leaned back in his chair. "As my brother rarely speaks to me, I was thinking perhaps you might be convinced to report on his behavior to me. You'd be compensated of course."
Lestrade ignored the tea and leaned over his desk. "Are you offering me a bribe?" His tone turned dangerous, stirring something dormant in Mycroft's belly.
Mycroft's smile never faltered. "Simply compensation for something you're more or less doing already. I just wish to be certain of my brother’s activities."
"Try talking to your brother then. I am not your lackey," Lestrade growled at him and walked out.
Mycroft rubbed his forehead, wondering if, for once, he'd made a serious miscalculation. Why did Gregory Lestrade get under his skin? He picked up one of the folders on his desk and looked again at the policeman's record.
**
It was another month before he saw Lestrade again in person. He kept an eye on him, of course. Learned his movements. All so typical for a man of his age, it should have been dull. But something about the man fascinated him. Mycroft was waiting outside the pub when Lestrade came out after the football match. "Care to save a cab fare?"
Lestrade eyed him, but shrugged and followed him to the waiting car. "Sherlock is still clean."
Mycroft licked his lips and got the door for him. "I thought perhaps I'd make a more social call." He got in the back seat with him.
Drunk though he was, Lestrade still had his faculties. "You're an unbonded omega. And you've been watching me."
Mycroft folded his hands on his lap. "Perhaps a bit," he admitted.
Lestrade looked him. "Take me home," he ordered.
Mycroft was surprised by the tone, but gave the address to his driver, aware Lestrade was watching him.
Lestrade stayed silent as they went, dark eyes on Mycroft. Under the detective’s gaze, he resisted the urge to adjust his collar or loosen his tie. But he could smell the alpha in the close confines. Finally they pulled up in front of Lestrade's flat.
Getting out a bit unsteadily, Lestrade turned around to meet his eyes. "I told you to call me next time." He slammed the door shut, leaving Mycroft with the lingering scent.
He took a breath and rolled down the window. "Inspector." No response. "Lestrade?" The man kept walking. "Gregory!"
That made him turn and stare at Mycroft all over again. "Nobody's called me that since my Grandmother..."
"Gregory, perhaps I made an error. A drink, maybe?"
Lestrade licked his lips, considering. "Next time call or text," he said, digging out his key and heading again for his flat.
**
The following Saturday, Mycroft sent a text, wondering at himself. Perhaps we could watch the football match? Pub? - MH
He stared at the mobile until it chimed. Come to my place. -GL
Mycroft let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding. I will be there in an hour. - MH
Dropping the phone on the bed, he went to the closet and browsed for a while before picking out a blue-gray shirt that would set off his eyes and a pair of charcoal trousers. He tried not to think too much as he dressed, checking himself in the mirror twice before going down to pick a bottle of wine, pulling on his coat and heading out to the car.
Forty-eight minutes after texting Gregory, he was knocking on the man’s door. Lestrade opened the door with a smile. “Thank you for coming,” he said, letting him into the small flat. Surely he could afford better on his salary? Something smelled delicious as he offered the bottle of wine.
“Oh, good year. This will go perfectly with dinner.” Lestrade smiled at him and led the way further into his flat.
Before long they were sitting down to an excellent dinner. “I must admit, I am impressed,” said Mycroft, sipping his wine. “Perhaps you are in the wrong profession.”
Lestrade chuckled. “I would be a terrible chef. But cooking for myself or….others, I don’t mind.”
“Well, I am grateful to be the object of your attentions this evening.” Mycroft realized what he’d said and looked at his wine glass, blushing a bit. He carefully pushed it away from him.
Lestrade reached over and touched his hand. “Thank you for not kidnapping me this time.”
Mycroft’s blush deepened. “Perhaps I should apologize for my earlier behavior.”
“It’s okay, I take it you’re not accustomed to this sort of situation.” Mycroft could feel him watching him.
“That would be correct Le… Gregory. I have always been something of a single-minded individual. My status as an omega has only been a hindrance, something to be managed.” He looked at Greg’s fingers gently stroking his.
“I think you’ll find I’m a fairly easy-going alpha. I have no desire to claim you against your will. I’m not going to take you to my room and ravish you or something foolish like that. Come on, let’s go watch the match.” He turned his palm over and offered his hand.
With a shy smile, Mycroft took it and they retired to the couch. Lestrade refilled their wine glasses after a little while, but they spent a pleasant afternoon in front of the telly, making small talk as they watched. He found himself relaxing for the first time in ages. Lestrade’s arm rested on the back of the couch, but he made no attempt to crowd him and kept an otherwise respectful distance. Mycroft found himself watching the Inspector out of the corner of his eye, half-waiting for something to go wrong. But nothing did and at the end of the night Lestrade walked him to the door, still holding his hand, and seeing him out with a smile.
**
The following weekend Mycroft had Gregory meet him at a small movie theatre. Gregory held his hand again as they watched the film, something artistic and German. Afterward, they went to one of Mycroft’s favorite restaurants. It was private and expensive, but Mycroft never minded the cost, even less so when he was sitting across from Gregory Lestrade.
“You didn’t have to go all out like this,” said Lestrade, touching his foot under the table. “But I appreciate it. The film was interesting.”
“I am glad you enjoyed it. I don’t usually…” he faltered.
Lestrade reached over and took his hand again. “I know.” He raised Mycroft’s hand to his lips and gently kissed the back of it, watching his face.
Mycroft’s heart skipped, but he didn’t pull away. “Gregory,” he said softly, wetting his lips.
“I am very glad for you company,” he put his hand back down, smiling warmly at him. Just then the waiter came with their meals and he let go so they could eat.
Lestrade frowned a little at the light salad on Mycroft’s plate. “That’s all you’re eating?”
Mycroft shrugged. “I need to lose weight,” he said quietly.
“I don’t think so,” Lestrade said, watching him. “You’re fine where you’re at.”
“A good tailor can hide a multitude of sins. Do not let it trouble you.” Mycroft gave him a smile and dug into his meal.
Lestrade’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he ate quietly. Mycroft got up to use the restroom towards the end of the meal and when he came back there was a large piece of tiramisu on the table and two forks.
“Gregory,” he said, looking down at him, not yet taking his seat again.
“Please,” Lestrade offered him a fork.
With a sigh, Mycroft sat down and poked at the dessert. Lestrade took a forkful and offered it to him. “You’re easy on the eyes, Mycroft Holmes.”
Mycroft gave him a smile and took the bite, squeezing his free hand. “Thank you,” he said as he swallowed and licked his lips.
“Anytime. Did you want to come back to my place?”
Mycroft studied his face, heart skipping. He bit his lip. “No...not tonight, thank you.”
Lestrade squeezed his hand again. “Okay. Let me know when?”
“I shall.”
**
It was almost a month again before they were able to find time to get together. They attended an after-hours exhibition at a local museum. Mycroft was surprised and delighted that Lestrade had an interest in art as well. The museum had a small cafe where they ended up after they walked through, engaged in such a lively discussion that for once Mycroft didn’t pay attention to what he was eating.
Lestrade laughed at something he said and leaned back. “This has been wonderful.” He squeezed Mycroft’s hand again. “Tonight will you come back to mine?”
Mycroft smiled warmly at him. “Yes, I will.”
“Good. I drove.” Lestrade led him outside and opened the door for him. It was a little odd to be in the front seat, but Gregory was a careful driver and soon they were back at his flat. Lestrade let him in and went to pour them some wine. He handed Mycroft a glass. “May I kiss you?”
Mycroft was surprised, but he nodded, clutching his glass. Greg leaned in and kissed him tenderly, again being careful not to trap him. Warmth flooded his belly and he could almost taste the alpha’s pheromones. It made him want to do things…
Shaking his head and stepping back, he put the glass down. “I’m sorry Gregory, I need to go.” He turned and fled the flat, texting for a car as he hurried down the stairs.
Greg came out as he was pacing, waiting for the car. “You’re safe with me,” he promised, leaning on the rail.
“It is not you I mistrust,” said Mycroft, looking down the road, willing the car to arrive faster.
“Whenever you’re ready, I’m here,” said Greg. His tone was sad and Mycroft looked up, but he’d already gone back inside. Mycroft silently cursed himself and wondered just what he was doing.
**
The following week Mycroft was working late at home, unable to sleep. He’d be going into heat soon, so he was trying to get ahead. Suddenly there was a loud knock on the front door, followed by the bell. Wondering what on earth was going on at this late hour, he tied his robe tightly around his waist and went to the door.
To his surprise, Lestrade was on his doorstep with Sherlock. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late. He’s pretty drunk and insisted I take him here since it was closer.”
Mycroft’s lips formed a thin line as he looked at his little brother. “Bring him in; he can sleep it off in one of the guest rooms.”
He was sharply aware of Greg’s alpha pheromones as he half-carried, half-dragged Sherlock up the stairs. “Let me guess, for a case?”
“That’s what he said,” sighed Lestrade as they got him into the room. Mycroft turned down the sheets while Lestrade got the younger Holmes’ shoes off .
Stepping back, Mycroft let Lestrade put him into the bed proper before tucking his little brother in. “He’ll be fine by morning. Thank you for bringing him.”
“You’re welcome,” Lestrade looked at him in the dim light of the room. “It’s...good to see you.”
Mycroft bit his lip, wondering if the alpha could smell his oncoming heat. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
Lestrade smiled and Mycroft’s heart skipped. “I’d love one, thank you.”
They went down to the kitchen and Lestrade sat at his kitchen table, looking around at the understated opulence of the place. In a few minutes they were sitting together, sipping their drinks. Lestrade chuckled. “We’re so civilized.” He reached over and took Mycroft’s hand.
Mycroft closed his eyes, smelling him, feeling the warmth from him. “I’m….going into heat, Gregory.”
“I can tell,” Lestrade’s voice was gentle. “Do you want me to go?”
Mycroft shook his head. “No...but I need a few promises from you.”
“Name them?” Lestrade squeezed his hand again.
“Do not bond with me. Do not breed me.” He looked at the table instead of meeting Lestrade’s eyes.
“Okay.”
Mycroft looked up at him, startled and wary. “That’s okay?”
Lestrade reached his other hand over to trace his fingers along his jaw. “I am here for you, Mycroft. If those are your conditions, then so be it.”
Swallowing, Mycroft leaned across the table and kissed Lestrade, moaning softly into his kiss, his body reacting already. Standing, Lestrade came around and put an arm around his waist, kissing him again. “I’ll text work and let them know I won’t be in.” He broke the kiss and scented Mycroft’s neck
Mycroft angled his head, offering his throat instinctually. “Where is your room?” asked Lestrade.
“This way,” Mycroft thought his heart might beat out of his chest as he led the way up to his chambers. He looked at Gregory and loosened the tie on his robe.
Gregory stepped to him and gently cupped his face, kissing him again. “Only if you are certain,” he said, looking into his eyes.
“I never have been more sure,” said Mycroft, putting his hands over Greg’s and meeting his eyes.
He kissed Mycroft again, pushing the robe from his shoulders before stepping back and unbuttoning his own shirt. Mycroft sat on the bed and watched him undress. His cock stirred and he could feel his heat begin in earnest as he bit his lip. Gregory’s scent filled his senses and he shifted as he grew wet.
“You’re beautiful,” said Greg softly, dropping his trousers.
With another deep breath, Mycroft pushed down his bottoms, making some effort to cover himself. Greg shook his head and moved to the bed, kissing him again and trailing a hand down his chest. Mycroft leaned up to kiss him, tangling a hand on his hair.
Greg growled and pressed Mycroft back onto the bed. “You smell divine,” Greg purred.
Mycroft’s fingers reached down to touch his entrance. “I need….” he panted.
“Let me take care of you.” Greg kissed him again before moving down to lap at his cock. Mycroft arched against him and spread his legs for him, growing wetter by the moment. He gasped and moaned as Greg’s fingers probed him. He wanted this, and with that realization, he started to truly relax.
Greg smiled at him, sucking the head of his cock as he pressed in a second finger, stretching him. Mycroft’s eyes closed as he gave himself over to the pleasure. “Please, Gregory.”
Moving up, Greg kissed him again. “Let me just get a condom, I’ll be right back.”
Mycroft watched him dig in his coat. “I’ll need more to get through your heat, but this is enough for now.”
“Take me, please,” panted Mycroft.
Greg cupped Mycroft’s cheek. “I am honored to do this for you.” He moved between his legs, kissing Mycroft as he pressed against him.
He groaned as Greg pushed his way inside, tossing his head as his body accommodated him. He was being stretched, but it felt good and he knew the alpha was being gentle as he could. Greg’s teeth scraped along his neck before he pulled his head back and looked down at him.
Mycroft opened his eyes and met his. He gasped as he felt Greg’s knot against his entrance. He was wetter than he’d ever been as he met his lover’s eyes and gave a nod. Greg growled and pushed forward. There was an explosion of pleasure and pain as the knot slipped inside. Mycroft cried out and came suddenly between them, his body clamping down around Greg.
There was a loud growl, but no teeth marked Mycroft’s flesh as Greg filled him, holding him tightly through their orgasms. Mycroft’s skin tingled, craving the bond bite, but it faded as they both started to come down. Perhaps with time. Greg rolled them over so Mycroft was on top and held him tenderly, kissing his lips and his jawline as their bodies remained tightly bound together.
“Thank you,” panted Mycroft, dropping his head to Greg’s shoulder.
Greg smoothed his hands down Mycroft’s back. “Thank you.” he whispered.
There were still a few more days of heat to get through, but Mycroft knew Greg would see him through. Everything he needed was here, and they would work it out, together.