Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4116313.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_-_Fandom, johnlock_-_Fandom
  Relationship:
      Sherlock_Holmes/John_Watson
  Character:
      Sherlock_Holmes, John_Watson, Mycroft_Holmes
  Additional Tags:
      Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Alpha_Sherlock, Omega_John, Love/Hate,
      Teenlock, More_tags_to_be_added, Possessive!Sherlock, Smut_towards_the
      middle, bottom!John, top!Sherlock, Mycroft_is_kinda_a_dick, Self
      Confidence_Issues, Sherlock_Being_Sherlock, Not_Beta_Read, Slow_To
      Update, Hate_to_Love, Slow_Build, True_Mates
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-06-11 Chapters: 3/? Words: 3778
****** Two Sides To Every Love Story ******
by FandomTrashCompactor
Summary
     Betas are the mass majority, while Alphas make up 15%
     The omgea are now a rarity, making up only 5% of the Earths
     population.
     It is a set law, that an Omega child with be sent to a training
     university before their first Heat Cycle:
     John Watson finds himself met with an intriguing stranger, Sherlock
     Holmes.
     All the while, Sherlock finds himself intrigued by a youth, with the
     name, John Watson.
     CURRENTLY DOING MAJOR REVISION. UPDATE SOON
Notes
     Hey guys! This is my first
     Alpha!Sherlock Omgea!John fic.
     I really hope you enjoy this, and if you do, leave me a comment or
     kudo if you suggest I should continue with this story.
     Many thanks! XOXO
     (Btw. This story is solely written by me. I am just addressing this,
     due to a recent comment.)
***** Dorm 221B *****
John planted his head firmly on his knees. Resting his qwivering brows along
wet denim, as Johns short legs are tucked securely against his torso. Tears
flowed gently off waxy, puffing cheeks.
A single, tender knock erupted from the outer-side of the door.
John remained still, catching strained gasping breaths in his lungs.
The stained wood door creaked open, exposing a cream skined women, sun colored
hair bright in the darkness of the room.
Her voice, sweet as caramel, poured from Marys red painted lips.
"John, baby,..." She questioned solemnly "...What did those boys say to you?"
Intensive worry trailing her vocal path.
Johns matching golden hair shook side-to-side, above a redened face. His fist
compacting the loose material of his dirty denim pants. While his feet shifted
anxiously above one another.
In hopes to maintain his sniffling, in order to constrain the flood gates
threatening to breech completely, he counted.
1...
2...
3...
He could hear to shuffle of slippers against shag carpet encroaching towards
him.
4-..
A compassionate hand draped his shoulder in warmth.
Pulling his sobbing face to the Beta females chest, visibly unsettled by her
sons actions, she cradled the teen boy in her arms. Never once faltering in her
rhythmatic sways.
John drew a shallow breath. A calming maternal sent bathed him in heat,
cocooning him in comfort
Gathering himself, John pressed his palm against his mother's upper chest.
Allowing the sweet heart-beat of his mother to transfer to his trembling body.
Two electric blue pools, waterly gazed at his mother's frowning expression.
"Why did I have to be born like this mum?" Tears running out of his burning
eyes, as lips pressed into a desperate pout.
" Why an Omega!?" Voice crackling uncontrollably.
Whole-heartily yelling now, as low pitiful growls escaped his lungs. Although
in attempts of random aggression to Mary, she just held tighter.
John felt a pang in hus chest, resting his head in the crook of Marys neck, he
practically whispered.
"Do you really have to send me off as well?"
A sympathetic smile crossed her now smearing red-lips.
Marys mouth hung ajar for several seconds. Pondering the correct response.
"John, destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice." She
smoothly assembled her words, running her fingers through the youths disheveled
hair.
Brows furrowing, He pusged himself from his mothers chest, stumbling too two
feet. He shot venom with everyword, "To hell with destiny!" Panting from
outburst, he softened (slightly) to the twinge of a pain echoing in his
mother's azure eyes.
"My boy..." She gasped.
Emotion weld in her eyes; They dropped to earth, smashing against the stained
wood floor in sad puddles.
Cuffing John slender neck, she pulled him close once more. Joining him in a
buffet of whines, gentle caressing and heartfelt words. Two Coral lips then
leafed over Johns ashen ears.
"I'm sorry..." she gagged, covering her mouth with a shaking hand to stiffen
her cries. " I'm so sorry..."
John wished he could tell her it wasn't her fault, he wanted to take the blame,
but alas, he never asked to be born.
-----
Three messily packed travel bags sat upon his twin-sized bed, filled to the
brim with freshly ironed clothing and foot wear.
A family photograph, sat torn to peices along the unwelcomely cold foor.
 
________________________________________
"Sherlock Holmes!" A powerful voice reverberates down the marble Halls. Echoes
of expensive shoes driving down the drawn-out pathway.
An alabaster form moved from under red silken sheets as Inky hair is expose
from under the comforter, a second mass shifted beside Sherlock, extensive long
hair caressing a feminine body, lay bare.
With slight warning, a man in his mid-twenties burst through the lofty door.
Eyebrows fixed permanently in a scowl.
A shrill squawk roard from the unknown blonde as she pulled the covers to her
chest. day old make-up smudged unattractively across her 'stupidly-confused'
face.
Sherlocks mind was reeling, alcohol sending him into a grey haze. His lids
snapped open aggressively, he than began ripping the covers from her grasp, she
so desperately pulled over herself.
"Oh, just shut up." The younger man growled, baring his teeth in a hostile
manner. Wrapping his raw body In comfort. He shifted away dramatically from the
'bothersome intruders' of his slumber.
Two elderly ladies emerged from behind Mycroft, curtaining the young lady in a
very dispensable set of white-wool-sheets. Excorting her from the bitter
atmosphere of the room.
A soft click of a latching door sounded from behind the finally dressed man.
Before he tampered with his cufflinks, speaking in a posh manner.
"Brother of mine, I am well fed up with these supercilious actions." Mycroft
vocalize while lacking most all vocal emotion.
"To think, an Alpha, of our stature..." His voice now breaking somewhat in
frustration.
Massaging the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index. Mycroft lifted his
head to the high ceiling, breathing in deeply, relieving some tension.
"Your accommodations, have been arranged." Mycroft publicized breathlessly, an
irritating sting engraved into his words.
Body contorting, sherlocked ripped the covers from is transparent skin.
Barefeet gliding across the bitter cold marble floors. Rugs removed do to
Sherlocks most recent "Great Escape" from his the fourth story bedroom terrace.
Moving closer, Sherlock than grasped Mycroft wrist painfully tight.
"Accommodations?" he repeated, as if he misheard. Although, he knew that would
be hogh improbable. His Icy glare secreting from his pupils.
A slight smile cracked in Mycrofts blank expression.
"Accommodations." The fine posture man reassured as he lowered to Sherlocks
ear.
Slight smirk of amusement awning his face.
 
Sherlock unwrapped his clutches, taking two stumbling steps rearward, his
expression held betrayal. Eyes glaring, transfixed on the older man. Vision
turned faintly to the extensive, opened window. Sherlock considered briefly,
the fall, if done right would not be enough to end him. If only he had an-...
Mycrofts sneer down-turned. He barked quickly, "Don't bother, we have armed
guards in preparation of that exact idea, Sherlock."
Turning his broad, unbending back, Mycroft spoke deeply; "Well brother of mine,
I would suggest you commenced packing."
He turned on his heel, practically skipping to the massive door.
Latch sounding once more the young alpha was left alone, bare, and utterly
bewildered.
_________________________________
John's dusky brown leather loafers pressed hard against the concrete padding.
As a bearded (obviously) beta taxi driver, that smells oddly of old wood and
rotten fruit, Waddles his circle body to John. uncaringly he removed Johns
belongings from the odorous trunk.
John gawked at the wondrously large university. Fingers nervously kneading
behind his neck.
"Your folks must be loaded, m'right kid?" The cabbie chuckled, voice rusty,
lack of sleep was visible in his drooping, dull skin.
"No, not at all.." Johns eyes fixated on the menacing building before him. He
swallowed rocks that sunk to his stomach as anxiety.
The Beta stilled. Confusion loomed over him. Silently demanding an explanation.
John then sighed a forced breath. As casually as he could manage, he turned his
body towards the puzzled cab-driver.
"I'm an Omega." John uttered. Attempting to sound as pleasant as possible.
Although he felt very uncomfortable admitting this to a stranger.
Dropping Johns belongs, the Cabbie gasped at his clumsy behavior, apologizing
profusely.
A smile was painted on Johns thin lips, while, behind the painting, he was
appalled by the reaction the man produced.
"Wow, I've never met a Omgea. . ." The cabbie blushed, handing the previously
damaged packing-cases to Johns ready hands.
The man then, began speaking again, his clammy hands still holding Johns
belongings.
"Should have guessed, you are to pretty to be a beta..."
John stepped back subconsciously, extending his arm to gift the Cabbie the due
amount of money, the mans fingers lingered on Johns far to long.
Laughing anxiously, John (hopefully) unnoticeablely winced at the Betas touch.
Vaguely waving a good bye, John breathed in. Many smells assaulted his
nostrils.
John took a solitary step before taking notice to a mid-night colour car,
traceing along the cement.
A lanky, pale figure emerged from the leather Upholstery. Broad shoulds hung
angrily under dark, curling locks. Icy greys Frantically darting along the
campus.
A gust of musk and something indescribable penetrated Johns nose. Furiously his
heart banged on its cage begging to be set free..
"Alpha..." His inner-omega sung.
Biting his lip, Johns gently shut his lids taking in the intoxicating aroma
this stranger produced.
In a slow pace, John opened his eyes-lids sleepily. His lashes dragging along
his flushed cheeks.
Two piercing, eyes glazed with awe, stared back with a cocktail of emotions.
Puzzlement, curiosity, longing, and lust.
***** Spoiled Boy *****
Chapter Notes
     Sorry, this chapter is rather short...
"Have you gathered your belongings?" Mycroft questioned casually, his hooded
eyes blank, fixated on the print resting below his nose.
Silence fell from the mouth of the pouting Alpha. His body curled into a
defensive ball, snarling at his brothers nonchalant voice.
"Oh hush now..." Mycroft mocked, momentarily tearing his eyes from the paper to
shoot a glance, his lip upturned slightly. Infuriating Sherlocks quite growls.
A smartly dressed young lady entered the stinging cold room. Hand clutched
firmly on a BlackBerry.
"Sir's..." She gently spoke. A familiarness in her formal speaking manner. "The
car is prepared to leave now."
Sherlocks snarls of displeasure grew more obvious, as he pushed his head to his
knees. Tightly squeezing with his fore-arms.
"Come now, brother of mine, the car awaits." He whimsically spoke, hid
amusement angering Sherlock, to the brink.
 
A comfortable breeze sheathed Sherlock's milky skin. His body shifted lazily
above the expensive upholstery, leather sticking to his exposed skin.
Mycroft licked his Index, and flipped thin news-paper, Eyes sternly following
the print.
 
"Here we are, Sherlock." The amusement seemingly dead. Eyes still tracing the
ink.
A large marble building, surrounded by what could only be expected as dorms sat
in Sherlocks peripheral vision.
Countless appalling scents attacked his nostrils. Taken aback, he attempted to
roll the window shut.
A breeze slipped through the closing window, bombarding Sherlock in a sweet
aroma of honey suckle and...
"And..." Teeth scraping hesitantly against his lips.
Subconsciously his toes tapped impatiently. Eyes darting to where this
marvelous scent is originating from.
Suddenly, grey eyes locked firmly too a short, blonde youth waving
unenergetically to a passing Cabbie.
The sent, now stronger, sweeter, bit at him. Pupils dilating, he roared, "Stop
this car!"
A muted screech rolled along the cement.
Mycroft grasped his iron-straight paper. Indenting his clutch marks.
Dampened hands wrapping around a heavy, metal handle. Steping from the car.
Sherlocks eyes darted directly to the teen.
His lids shut wearily, nostrils flaring in a sensual manner. His thin shoulders
slowly shift down as he exhales. The blondes drowning pools of blue, engulfing
Sherlock entirely.
As if instinct, Sherlocks body intensively, strutted towards the equally as
suprised and nervous teen.
The space in between them closing in, as the world around them began to cease
to exist.
"Sherlock!" Mycroft spouted, shambling out from the black car. Thin, already
silvering hair sway from the breeze.
"You!" Sherlock shouted, brows furrowing. Breathe heavy and arm extending, as
his finger point incredulously.
The omega Stumbled back due to shock. Eyes widening anxiously.
Sherlocks long, boney fingers shot towards the boy, captured Johns wrist.
Pulling the boy to his gravitation seamlessly.
"What, is your name?" Sherlock smoothly spoke, eyes burrowing into the teens
face.
"Uuh.." The boy shuddering, staring at the sharp features this, gorgeous,
delicious, alpha-... . Catching himself in the act of allowing his inner-omega
to take surface, he straightening his back. John raised his eyes. Meeting the
once icy eyes, melting above him.
"John."
 
_____________________________
 
The Omegas face flushed. The hand wrapped around his wrist tightening
with every breath.
A older man rushed from behind the mysterious, ebony hair man.
The greying man angrily gasped, "Sherlock! Let go of that boy!"
"Sherlock..." Johns mind hummed.
Sherlocks eyes broke from his 'target'. A frustrated snarling, broke from his
pale lips. Wrenching Johns feeble body to his chest. He shifted his vision to
the man, jogging in their direction.
A shallow growl escaped Sherlocks lips. Causing Johns body to rumble along.
Johns ear was pressed securely against the expensive, cotton shirt. Delicious
sent engulfing him.
Mycroft pulling his hand back in a defensive manner. His facial features
scrunching.
"My word" Mycroft huffed baring his teeth, "Mind yourself, brother."
He brought his hand from his hip, and in a delicate snap. Four men emerged
from the car, pistols clearly protruding in their holsters.
Johns heart thumped loudly from both excitement and worry for his Alpha-...
John mentally wrapped his hands around his throat. His owns thoughts causes
John to whimper.
With a snap of his neck, Sherlock's gaze was now locked with Johns. His head
tilting with worry, returning a concerned whine.
With this distraction, the men were able to encroach easily, pulling Sherlock
from the omega.
The warm embrace of this man was removed. Sherlocks nails gripping into his
skin, leaving crest shaped marks. As the weight disappeared, two lips echoed
through his redened ears,
"You're mine."
The strong, hands of Alpha men hauled Sherlock to the main entrance. His eyes
still immersed in their recent interaction.
A faint smile crossed his lips. As if he was saying.
"Ill be back, soon."
 
John tracked down the dormitory halls. His heart not calming, as Sherlock's
sent was now engrained into his cotton shirt. (Not that John minded...)
'221B' writen in New-Romans font sat upper-left corner of the other wise, blank
paper.
Dragging his bags behind him, he spotted a young Omegas, tears spouting down
his tawny face, as his belongings were thrown from the room, like garbage.
"A couples dispute?" John considered turning his back, but the Omegas pitiful
whines were too terrible to ignore.
Feelings of anger boiling in John, burning him. Dropping his bags suddenly, he
stormed to the open room.
221B the bronze room plate read.
Placing his palm on the sorrowful Omegas trembling shoulder. He glared
menacingly to the lanky form standing middle of the dim room.
His eyes widening suddenly.
A cocky face stood. Lips curling happily.
His voice ran smooth like a fine wine.
"Hello John."
Two men in black, packed in hands bags of various nick-nacks, and clothing.
One young lady, dark hair and a lovely face, began pulling the sopping wet boy
up-wards, leading him down the long hall. Wipping his tears with a embroidered
hanky.
Snapping angerly, John shifted his glare to the man, now alone in Johns room.
"Make yourself at home." Sherlock gestured inside the room.
"You do realize this dormitory is for Omegas, right?" John faintly growled.
Raising his burning blue eyes.
Sherlock cocked his head playfully. Legs moving smoothly, he glided to John,
wrapping a arm around his thin, resisting hips.
Moving his face to Johns neck, he Inhaled loudly a slight moan escaping his
clenched teeth.
Pulling back slightly, a fierce yank directed John towards sherlock.
Two lips whispered, unfalteringly,
"When you're an Alpha, John." He spoke, eyes still partially closed in ecstasy.
"You can get what," voice slowing. He opened his eyes, smile down-turning,
"Or, Who ever you want." He clicked his tongue.
Johns lids twitched with anger. Pulling his body forcefully away. He screamed,
teeth snarling,
"The hell with that!" Johns voice was changing pitch rapidly, "You-...Knot-
head!"
He stormed out of the bitter room. Slamming the heavy wooden door behind him.
Leaving the bold Alpha alone and utterly confused.
***** Waiting *****
Chapter Summary
     A revalation tumbled in John's mind that he would have to return to
     dreaded 221B, while Sherlock sat, anticipating his return.
Chapter Notes
     Oh my gosh.
     I was so upset with this chapter, it was ment to be much longer, but
     to a horrible revalation, it seemed more then half was deleted.
     I'm sorry its not longer, stay tuned for longer chapters and ...*
     whispers * smut. (;
Dark leather loafers slapped angrily down the clean, unsoiled dormitory halls.
Mind a whirlpool of anger, bewilderment, and many other indescribably
uncomfortable emotions.
Okay, that was not his most sufficient insult earlier but with the smell, and
that face-...
Shakig his head, John sighed, slowing his pace slightly.
Clutching his mangled travel-bags firmly, he continued down the extensive
hallway.
Heart pounding, and cheeks a red shade of frustration.
Sherlocks stinging voice nipped at Johns ears, begging to be heard.
John shut his lids, in hopes to control himself, body still continuing down the
marble path, pushing his weight forward down the hall.
Then, a mass hit John's puffing chest, causing him to fall to his rear. A gasp
of surprise escaped his mouth, as well as the other party.
Johns eyes darted open and paid notice to a tawny boy, his hair a silvery
blonde. The youths lips were pursed, and his eye lids were clamped tightly,
signalling discomfort.
"Bloody idiot..." he spoke In a hushed utter. Hand rubbing his aching rear.
John abondoned his surprise and pushing his fore-arms to the floor, lifting his
mass, and stumbling to his feet.
The silver omega sat annoyed and in obvious discomfort.
John then stumbled to two feet, and extended his hand, smiling warmly.
The older teens frustration seemed to melt with Johns kind gesture. Clasping
his hand, the boy pulled himself to Johns eye level.
The smile remaining on John's face brought forth a returning smile from the
other omega.
The boy smelt oddly masculine, with notes of burnt sugar.
"John" He said voice firm yet a twinge of familiarity in his word.
Hands began to shake, into a nice-to-meet you gesture.
"Lestrade." He smiles.
 
_________________________________
 
A dark cloud hung over sherlocks inky hair, his ashen face pressed solemnly
into his palms, slouching his mass into an Green, leather down recliner.
Two long, drawn-out legs exit from the white bathroom. Sizeable hands wrapping
around a freshly-cleaned towel, wiping away the wetness ceaselessly.
"First day, and you're already considering bonding with some Omgea." Mycroft
spoke blandly, tounge clicking at the end of his sentence.
Mycroft stood, shoulder leaning against the door frame, arms crossed in a
scrutinizing manner, anticipating Sherlock to return his teasing with a
"witty"/sarcastic remark.
Painfully silent moments passed, before Sherlock mouth was even set ajar.
"M'not..." Sherlock uttered, hands sat over his lips, causing a muffle. His
pale skin was a lively shade of red. Causing Mycroft to jolt in surprise.
A puff of carbon dioxide escaped Mycrofts well-moisturized lips. As the corners
of his mouth up-turned to a smile.
Amusement rising in his blood, a chance of delicious mockery was present, and
Mycroft whimsically spoke,
"That child's smell was rather intoxicating.. if I had caught wind first, I-"
Sherlocks body contorted, as a sharp flash of alabaster skin flew across the
dimming room. Sherlocks hot breath inches from Mycrofts face. His fist grasping
the expensive material of Mycrofts suit, he snarled, teeth baring aggressively.
A low growl rumbled from his chest.
Mycroft smiled, eyes filled with amusement. Prying Sherlock fingers away, he
leaned a short amount to his brothers furiously red ears,
"It seems, even the greatest liars, have their off days." Mycroft hummed, feet
clicking to the front entrance. A goodbye was gestured. As the heavy door
latched behind the grey suit.
Slumping back into his chair, sherlock inhaled. Johns sent was still present,
but fading. His chest tightened, as he prepared for Johns inevitable return.
 
_________________________
 
"And then, he had the nerve to tell me, because he was an Alpha, he could have
anyone he wanted!" Half-shouting John enthusiastically swung his hands to match
his words.
Lestrad sat quietly, intensively listening to Johns rants.
A sigh escaped John's lips, as he massaged the back of his neck, attempting to
relieve his frustration.
"Worse part is,"
Lestrade leaning into John's words with curiosity.
"He's apparently my dorm-mate." John breathlessly muttered, anger boiling in
him.
Lestrade sat paralyzed, eyes fixated on John.
"But he..." Lestrade uttered, "you said he was an Alpha? "
"He is." John spoke, eyes a steel-blue, lips pressed into a tight line.
Embarrassment and concern covered lestrades face as he rambled, "What about
your heat cycle? Having an Alpha that close will-!"
Lestrades shouts was broken by a booming ring of the school bells. Static blew
through the intercom. A light female voice echoed down the fine halls.
"Dear student's, thank you for attending our excellent itsablishment," The
unfalltering voice seemed mechanic,
"Class will commence this coming morning, please, return to your dormitory."
The static cut and silence fell again.
A revalation tumbled in Johns mind. That he will have to return to dreaded
221B.
A beeping emerged from lastrades pocket.
Fingers reaching inside, he took one glance and flickered back to John's eyes.
An apologetic expression crossed his face.
Lestrades body-mass shifted to his feet. Pressing his phone against his ears.
He lipped a soft sorry, and waved a idle good-bye.
Gripping his packaging. Johns eyes narrowed. As he turned his back, feet
padding down the previously tracked path.
Sealing his lips together, a heavy whisper of encouragement broke through Johns
lips,
"Don't let him sway you."
 
________________________________
 
Sherlock sat in the same position, sulking.
Breath a quiet hum of irritation.
A not-so-familiar sent excreted from the hall. Causing Sherlock to perk, body
tensing under his expensive clothing.
The shadow of two feet stood idly outside the door. In anticipation, Sherlock
situated himself.
Legs crossing over one another, tea cup elegantly held in his hand. He pushed
his heart beat from his ears. The pounding grew louder with every sent of John
he breathed.
The metallic nob twisted lesierally. The door than silently opened.
Blue eyes met Sherlock. Many emotions swam in them. His mannerisms suggested he
was under intense stress. While, Sherlock couldn't help but wonder, what his
would tell John.
"Where is my room?" John spoke as strongly as he could manage
Johns aroma wafted into Sherlocks nostrils causing his musicals to contract, to
hid his salvation, Sherlock lifted his cup to his lips.
An irritated look shone in Johns eyes.
Insecurity building in Sherlock caused his voice to go soundless. He than
extended a solitary, long finger, pointing to a door, Horizontally from
himself.
A puff of frustration came from John as he trudged to the seemingly, freshly-
painted door.
Entering his new room, with out hesitation, John shut the door. Closing the
space between him, and Sherlock.
Slamming down his cup, Sherlock pressed his hands together, resting slightly
under his chin.
He breathed in tightly, the honeysuckle and the thing he has yet discovered,
swarms his senses.
His inner-Alpha screeched, "M...te..!!" Although Sherlock could not fully make
out the word.
Sherlock allowed his lids to shut gently. Relaxing himself in the aroma veiling
the dorm. A tight warmth expanding in his chest, as he continues to breath. Oh
If there was ever a reason to continue breathing,  it would be now.
He could here the noise echoing from Johns room, frustration and disappointment
seeping through the bottom space.
Sherlock couldn't control the strangled whimper at his mat- at John's
irritation.
 But stull, how he loves the way Johns sent, is now mixed with his.
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