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John ran the washcloth over his skin as the hot water soothed his aching back. It was week 35 and his oversized stomach was becoming a challenge.
Still, life was good and he happily reflected that things were going so well. It could have been so different. It could have been disastrous, he thought; his first pregnancy, unplanned, twins and not knowing how Sherlock would react - not knowing how he himself would feel as his omega nature - and Sherlock's alpha one - inevitably emerged. Yet it was all working out brilliantly...
He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of someone moving around the flat. Sherlock was back. John felt an extra little jolt of happiness with the realisation.
The door cracked open a moment later.
“Almost finished?” asked Sherlock ducking his head inside. His eyes immediately gleamed as he took in John’s wet body.
“I was, but now I think you should join me, love.” Grinned John.
“Not now. Come out quickly…” John could see Sherlock’s lust and kink quickly grabbing hold of him - his thoughts beginning to drift. The tiny bathroom was full of steam-infused omega scent. Sherlock sneezed - a surefire sign that John's pheromones were already making a mess of him.
The sight of his normally ultra composed mate coming apart sent a wave of excitement through John. It was all new territory between them and the exploration of it was thrilling.
“You come in!” He insisted, moving his hands to the underside of his immense stomach. John stared at Sherlock intently, beckoning him.
Sherlock squinted like a drunk trying to read an eye chart. Widened them again, a little too much.
“I want to shag you senseless.” He rumbled candidly. His pale eyes had become glazed and hungry.
“I want you to. Come here. Do it.” John insisted. He swayed back and forth, smiling, showing off the roundness and heft of his belly. Sherlock sneezed again and shook his head, his face abruptly meeting the doorframe with a loud thud. He grabbed his nose with a moan.
“!!! Are you alright?!”
“Come out now!” Sherlock growled into his hand and ducked out hurriedly.
+++
John quickly finished rinsing and turned off the shower. He examined himself in the mirror; his short, wet hair stuck up randomly in a way that pleased him. He pulled on his favourite now-slightly-too-small flirty red pants after a minimal amount of towelling.
He knew it would drive Sherlock crazy to see his enormous belly looking swollen, slick and glistening; he left the surface of it wet and added some soap dribbling down the front for good measure.
John tripped through the flat in a blissful haze; in love, ready for love.
“Where are yoooouuuuuu, sexy beast?” He called, “You smell amazing!”
He inhaled deeply. Sherlock’s alpha scent permeated the flat … almost uncharacteristically… it possessed an edge of something new and intriguing, and pushed his brain even further into a happy place.
“Everyday something's new…” he mused as he strolled into the parlor, “I think knocking me up is the best thing you’ve done in ages, love… certainly the best thing you’ve done with that monster cock of yours… not that we can’t try to top i-”
John stopped dead in his tracks. A woman was seated in Sherlock’s chair.
For a brief moment, John reeled in horror at the thought that she was a prospective client.
Instead he reeled in horror at the truth of the situation; as he registered the pale skin and eyes, the long slender body, the ample helping of cheekbones and mouth. But most of all the scent. So much like Sherlock’s, blending perfectly with it in fact, enhancing the effect of it and yet...
“John, this is my mother.” said Sherlock sombrely. He was seated across from her, a look of trapped misery on his face.
The two of them held teacups. A neglected tray of finger sandwiches lay between them.
“Hello there, little darling.” said Mummy smiling broadly.
John felt himself looking stupidly at her, a deep blush enveloping him neck to head. He moved his hands over his crotch in a hapless attempt at modesty.
“Oh my! I see John’s decided to join us post-haste...” said Mycroft entering from the kitchen.
“Yes, “ said Mummy, “But so far he hasn’t said a word. You do talk don’t you? He does talk, doesn’t he, darling?”
“Occasionally.” Answered Mycroft, “But you know Mummy, its normally Sherlock who does the blathering… John can be quite shy… when he’s not been freshly bathed of course...” Mycroft mused.
“I, um, yes. I’m sorry. Hello.” John finally stammered. He was feeling quite odd; mortified, yet very safe and very submissive at the same time. It was a struggle not to look away.
“Shy you say. Well, it certainly doesn’t seem like you two have had that problem. ” Mummy said looking between her younger son and John’s bulging middle.
“I do not blather.” Sherlock snarled at his brother. Mycroft reached for one of the sandwiches.
“I-” John began,
“What is that on your stomach, darling?” Asked Mummy, leaning forward and sliding her glasses down to inspect his belly. She raised her eyebrows slightly.
“Shower Gel…” Mumbled John.
“Shower Gel! Is it supposed to look like-”
“Come! Come! Mummy… you’re embarrassing poor John.” said Mycroft with a small laugh.
“Am I?” Asked Mummy innocently, “John, darling, am I embarrassing you?”
"No…” said John clearing his throat. “No more than I've done myself anyway..." he muttered. Mummy looked pleased. Mycroft looked amused. Sherlock looked agitated.
“Because I do think a hand cream or some kind of moisturizer would work better - that gel is too opaque to be convincing as seme-”
“Mummy, perhaps we’d better let John put some clothes on.” Suggested Sherlock sulkily. His eyes flickered over John. He crossed his legs and looked away.
“But darling, do you normally allow him clothes?” Mummy turned suddenly from Sherlock to John, a look of concern. “Poor thing… just look at you. Do you have anything, or does he usually keep you like this?” she tsked.
“I - Yes, of course! I mean - no! What!?!? He doesn’t - I mean, it’s not like that -” Stammered John.
Mummy’s eyes gleamed, a self satisfied look of mischief in them.
“Well, you young people… who knows what you get up to these days for pleasure… Why just the other day I read of an alpha woman who reportedly kept several omegas in captivity; wandering around her estate… The poor things were all illegal immigrants and sex slaves, and of course broodmares. And do you know? When the authorities finally intervened it turned out they all wanted to be there!” She said with scandalous joy. Sherlock slid lower into his chair.
I‘ll just go put some on now, shall I?” said John.
“Only if you’re cold, darling.” Mummy said looking at John’s belly approvingly. As he moved to go, she suddenly reached out, stopping him. Mummy’s hand paused before it met his stomach.
"May I?" She asked.
"Oh, Uh yeah, of course I-"
Sherlock's tea cup and saucer began to rattle in his hands. Mummy hovered just above John's flesh, captivated. John thought he heard the beginnings of a very soft growl.
“Well, this is something…” She mused. “One really had no expectation that the Holmes family tree would thrive on, at least not in this branch of the family!” She smiled sweetly at her sons. “Mycroft has been so busy with his career. It seems like the only thing he ever thinks about… besides food of course. That’s enough, darling.” she tutted as Mycroft bit into his second sandwich.
Mycroft winced. Sherlock snorted in weak amusement.
“And Sherlock… well as proud of him as one is… I’m sure you know he’s remained chaste all this time.” Mummy said lowering her voice as if to confide.
“One thought he’d be a virgin forever, John," she said, "Really. We all did. I even suspected he might prefer the company of alphas! Just imagine!”
John smiled helplessly between Mummy and Sherlock, who was suddenly holding the bridge of his nose and making an odd humming sound. Mummy smiled back at John lovingly.
“Well! I suppose you’re quite experienced, being a military man. You didn't mention that part, Sherlock, darling! And a war hero too, oh my! Aren’t you the lucky one, to have someone who knows their way around the bedroom! John, you’re really going to be quite good for him, I can already tell. It’s high time, why past high time - he learned the ways of love...”
“I could have done earlier had I wanted…” scowled Sherlock half looking up. Mycroft nicked another sandwich, grinning.
Mummy picked up the tray and swiveled to John. “ Though it seems like he’s decided to make up for lost time now. You’re very big, John. Is there more than one in there?”
“Yes...twins, boys...”
“I thought as much. More boys! Well well. John that’s marvelous, you’re really something! Allowing Sherlock to do this to you… he’s really very lucky to have you. Now have something to eat darling, and tell me all about your plans.”
“Plans?”
“A natural birth, I assume?”
“Oh. Yeah. We thought that-”
“You two are having lots of intercourse, I hope?”
Sherlock groaned. Mycroft moved to the window, tea in hand, a small smile on his lips. John opened his mouth, unsure of what to say.
“It’s very important,” she stated with great authority, “That the two of you copulate frequently and consistently, or you won’t get an orgasmic birth, darling. And you don’t want to miss that! Not with two on the way!”
“Of course not…” said John. He looked in wonder at Sherlock; who sat with arms crossed, pouting and squirming in his chair at the sound of his mother’s voice.
“No, of course not! You’ve got to let your bodies communicate with each other. It’s imperative that alpha and omega swap enough hormones over the pregnancy so the alpha’s penis can enlarge and his body can produce enough prostaglandins and such to stretch and trigger you properl-”
“John’s a doctor,” whined Sherlock, “and I’m a genius. We know all this Mummy.”
“Well! It’s often the case that both kinds think they’re exempt from it all…take your father now…so much like your brother over there...”
“Mummy,” interjected Mycroft hastily, “what about the other point you wanted to discuss?”
Sherlock shot Mycroft a dirty look. Mycroft smiled triumphantly.
“Yes Mycroft darling, thank you for reminding me. Now John dear?”
John looked at Mummy.
“Yes?” he asked with anticipation.
“You know the scent an unbonded, pregnant omega produces is a very specific one.”
“Oh, um… I know…”
“One of fertility and need…”
John cleared his throat, nodded. He felt himself blushing again and glanced down where his feet would normally be.
“One that attracts people - especially alphas.”
Sherlock huffed, slamming his cup down impatiently.
"We don't want to be bonded right now Mummy! I've already told you this! Pestering John won't change matters!" Sherlock shouted. Mycroft chuckled a little, no doubt at something outside.
"Well now, darling I just thought I'd ask John how he felt... I'm sure I don't know what all you young people do for pleasure these days… I suppose sharing is in… the more the merrier…”
"What? No! That's not why-" began John,
“Oh, enough with your obscene implications you mad old bat!” Sherlock roared.
“Well, really! I don’t know what you mean… implications! You’re the one with a heavily pregnant, unbonded omega wandering around the flat in nothing more than a pair of red hot panties. There’s very little to imply here darling. Only given that he’s obviously quite a strong willed little thing, one assumed you needed assistance reeling him in.” Mummy suddenly looked at John.
“Incredible,” Mummy smiled a wolfish grin, "you don't ever drop your eyes when I look into them, do you darling? I think you’re just lovely, John. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Um, thank you. And you.” said John. He suddenly felt himself smiling at the absurdity of it all.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Snapped Sherlock.
“Is your back hurting you, darling?”
“A little.”
“Poor thing…oh dear oh dear, of course it is, just look at you. You poor, sweet thing. We’ll need to get you a massage right away.” she tsked. “Sherlock’s got you into quite a predicament.”
“He always does.” said Mycroft bemusedly.
“Oh dear oh dear. My poor baby...”
A deep growl emerged from Sherlock.
“Stop flirting with my omega!” He suddenly boomed.
“Sherlock, I am not flirting with your omega. I am fawning over John, who is carrying my grandchildren and is technically unbonded. Surely you don’t take issue with that!”
“I do!”
“Well, in that case you’re allowing your alpha side to get the better of you. One thought you were beyond such base behaviour, quite frankly.” Mummy took out a handkerchief and began to wipe the surface of John’s belly.
“There you are sweetie, all nice and clean…” she cooed.
An unexpected wave of happiness rippled through John at Mummy’s touch. He suddenly wanted to curl up in her lap and go to sleep. The babies inside him began moving as she continued to rub. John gasped in surprise.
“Feel that! Oh! John, my sweet darling!” she cried happily.
Sherlock jumped to his feet.
“MINE!” He screamed eyes blazing, “JOHN IS MINE!!!"
"Sherlock!" said John, astonished.
“Of course he is darling.” said Mummy calmly.
“You always do this!” Sherlock cried pointing wildly at Mummy.
“Always do what, darling? This is your first… your only mate…he is, isn’t he... Mycroft? Your brother doesn't have more omega love slaves hidden somewhere does he?” She winked at John and Sherlock dashed his teacup against the wall. It shattered spectacularly.
"Sherlock! It's okay, love!" Cried John.
"You stay out of it! Always needing to be the centre of attention every single moment!" snapped Sherlock, glaring jealously at John.
John blinked in confusion.
Sherlock whipped back around to glare at Mummy.
"And you! You... You're always trying to cut into my territory!" He sputtered.
"I'm not a love slave..." John said to no one in particular.
"To be fair, I was here first, being your mother. Perhaps it's you that’s doing the cutting in."
"...I just got out of the shower... misread the situation..."
“You did NOT need to try and take credit for my miniature working hadron collider when I was twelve!”
“Well! I was just proud of my son’s achievement…”
"...a massage would be great… please stop arguing now..."
“But it was MY achievement!”
“Well! What about when you upstaged my British Ladies of History and Science Luncheon with your pirate shenanigans?”
“Are you still talking about that? It was ages ago!”
“But it was only last year, darling!”
"...anybody listening?"
"You keep smiling at John!"
"...I think I'm in labour… "
"Well, someone's got to take proper care of him!"
John sighed and shuffled into the kitchen with the tray. Mycroft followed.
“Now you see why I favour suppressants.” he said reaching for a cucumber and butter. “Let’s hope your twins are betas for the sake of this family’s sanity.”
“Is it always that bad?” Asked John.
“I suppose your condition is making it worse, all the extra pheromones flying around.” sighed Mycroft. “She babied him until he presented. Since then she’s competed with - and babied - him. Often simultaneously. I must say, his jealousy does seem to be running high and in both directions today.” He sipped his tea. “She quite likes you, though.”
“That’s good,” said John biting into a sandwich. “Mm. Fig.”
“We’ve also brought biscuits…” Mycroft nodded towards the Fortnum and Mason bag.
“Brilliant. Let’s finish this lot off and crack those open,” Munched John. “Fancy a fresh cup?”
“Please.” Mycroft watched as John moved over the hob.
“Were you going to put any clothes on?” He asked lightly.
“I was, but… it seemed beside the point after a while.” John shrugged.
“Indeed.” said Mycroft.
The kettle whistled, its shrill tone mixing quite well with the sound of squabbling that drifted over Baker Street.