letalkingmime had a request for alpha Sherlock and beta John, so I wrote it:
John’s Alpha – Sherlock’s an alpha, John’s a beta. They always knew they would bond.
teaser below the cut
John had known from the moment of meeting him that Sherlock was an alpha. He’d known within the first hour that the man wanted to mate with him, despite his not being an omega of any sort. And he realized he wanted to give himself just as much as he was wanted. Of course it took them some time longer to actually get to that point, taking the long way round.
Now here they were, ensconced in Sherlock’s bed. John was no virgin, but he felt nervous as a blushing bride as he sat naked against the headboard. He knew they’d planned this out as well as they could, that he was physically capable of taking his lover and that before the night was over he’d feel a knot inside of him. He also knew beyond any doubt that he loved Sherlock and was loved in return, and that the image of a bride wasn’t so far off. After tonight they’d be mated, as if they weren’t practically bonded already.
Sherlock closed the door. He’d stripped down to his pants, but left them on for the moment. The room was dim, with candles making an effort at romance. John smiled at his lover as he came to the bed and crawled to him, leaning in to capture his lips in a heartbreaking kiss. Moaning softly he parted his mouth, smoothing his hands down Sherlock’s back, relaxing underneath him. They’d done plenty of kissing in the months leading up to this moment.
“I do want you,” breathed John as they broke apart, looking up into Sherlock’s eyes. He ran a hand through Sherlock’s hair as his kisses moved lower, mouthing the side of his neck, hands turning John and laying him down on his back. John’s cock stirred with interest, but he was content to let the alpha lead, warm breath tracing down his chest.
“Obviously,” answered Sherlock, opening a bottle of lube and warming it in his hands. John ran a hand down his arm, needing to touch, feeling the muscle and sinew of Sherlock’s arm. Leaning down, Sherlock mouthed John’s hip as if savoring the taste, tongue dipping down into the hollow. He moaned softly, spreading his legs as he watched Sherlock, the undercurrent of nervousness keeping him on edge while those amazing pale eyes watched him.