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Service Call	By : deklava Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 5454 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Sherlock and do not profit financially from this work.

Chapter List
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“Hey, Greg.” Tanya stuck her head into the lounge. “You’re on alpha duty in ten minutes. Omega guest up in the Marlborough Room.”
Lestrade lowered his newspaper, brows rising. “Ten minutes? That’s not much notice. No heat comes on that suddenly.”
She rolled her eyes. “Apparently he’s a government official taking part in that conference on the tenth floor. His assistant says that he was too involved in the discussions to notice that his heat was coming on until it was too late. He’s locked himself in his suite and a beta security detail’s been assigned to protect him from alpha guests until you get there.”
“All right.” Lowering the collar of his uniform shirt, Lestrade carefully peeled off the suppressant patch he was required to wear between ‘service calls’. “Marlborough Room, eh? Who is he- the Prime Minister?”
Tanya smirked. “Apparently.”
Lestrade laughed, but beneath his placid demeanour, his heartbeat quickened in anticipation.
The Detective Inspector had been moonlighting at the Regency Hotel for three months now. A messy divorce from his vindictive beta wife had left him desperately short of money and forced him to take a second job. He’d answered an advertisement for a part-time security officer at the hotel, and when the interviewer learned that he was an unbonded alpha, she’d asked if he’d be interested in a more lucrative position. The Regency was seeking ‘in-house’ alphas to service wealthy and unbonded omega guests caught off-guard by their heats. The hotel’s clientele included celebrities and high-ranking government officials whose hectic jobs occasionally left them too distracted to realize that their heat was coming on until it was too late. The hotel provided complimentary toys when such crises arose, but the demand for professional alpha services was growing.
Now Gregory Lestrade earned obscene amounts of money by fucking posh and powerful omegas on demand, letting his knot end their misery and fill his bank account. They all loved his commanding voice, firm hand, and physical prowess. Lestrade loved their hormone-fuelled worship (a nice change from the abuse policemen typically received) and the sex. There were two rules the hotel imposed: he always had to wear a condom and he was forbidden to bite the omega and create a bond. He was providing a service, not seeking a mate on company time. If he violated either stipulation and management found out, his employment would end immediately.
Lestrade left the employee lounge and walked down the corridor, whose narrow dimensions, scarlet walls, and black carpet brought an artery to mind. While waiting for the lift, he paused and examined his reflection in the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. He carried more weight around his middle than he was happy with, but otherwise, Lestrade gave himself a passing grade. He smoothed his silver hair, checked his teeth, and patted his shirt pocket to ensure that it contained condoms and the plastic mouth guard that would prevent an accidental bite from breaking the skin. His self-control rarely made the latter necessary, but the hotel required him to carry it. Just in case he one day encountered a guest capable of turning him into a rabid, rutting animal.
The Marlborough Room was one of two penthouse suites that took up the Regency’s entire top floor. As soon as Lestrade stepped out of the lift, three beta bodyguards intercepted him. When he showed his identification, they nodded and one patted him down for weapons.
“He’s clean,” the man said to a pretty brunette who stood in front of the double doors leading into one of the suites. She nodded, pocketed her Blackberry, and unlocked the doors with a key card.
“Follow me,” she ordered.
Lestrade had smelled potent omega pheromones as soon as he exited the lift, and his body reacted accordingly. His heartbeat quickened, breathing became difficult, and he developed a raging erection. It took every ounce of his self-control to stay composed and not hunt down the waiting omega like a lusty wolf.
You’re here to service this guest, not ravage him.
The brunette led him across the luxury suite and into a bedroom where a man who was obviously the client waited. The air was so thick with vaporised hormones that he could feel it blanketing his face, warm and sweet and powerful. Lestrade adjusted himself in his trousers and focused on breathing through his mouth.
The omega guest was a tall, pale man in his early forties. He still wore the upper half of an expensive but badly wrinkled suit. The shirt hem covered his groin, but the fact that he had spread a thick bath towel on the mattress edge before sitting on it indicated that he was naked from the waist down. His straight auburn hair lay damply against his skull and his high forehead glistened with sweat.
“Anthea, my dear,” he muttered without opening his eyes. “Thank you for bringing him. You may leave.”
“Yes, sir.”
When she departed, the man on the bed inhaled deeply. “Your presence is most soothing to me right now,” he rasped. “And might I add, most arousing.” He shifted on the mattress, grasping its edge and biting his thin lower lip. His inner thighs glistened with clear fluid. “It’s also making the towel rather useless.”
Lestrade kept breathing through his mouth. Uncomfortable and agitated clients rarely wanted to be leaped on immediately. “I’m Greg Lestrade. And you are?”
The man opened his eyes. They were a bright, alarming shade of blue. “Mycroft Holmes. And now that the preliminaries are complete, I need you to-” he swallowed heavily “-come here and do your job. I’m not normally so abrupt, but I cannot endure this any longer.”
Mycroft Holmes stood up slowly, turned around, and repositioned himself on the king-sized bed. Most omegas were jittery and anxious before mating with a strange alpha and required gentle touches and calm words before the manhandling began. This man was surprisingly assertive. He got onto all fours and lowered his shoulders to the mattress, leaving his bare arse elevated.
“You don’t need to wear a condom,” he said. “I’m up to date on my birth control medication.”
He shuffled his knees further apart and arched his back, revealing the soft and slippery hole between his pale buttocks. The flushed, relaxed muscle twitched and yielded a steady trickle of natural lubrication. Lestrade had never seen anything so filthy yet beautiful. Blood roaring in his ears, he eagerly undid his trousers and pulled them off, along with his pants. After kicking off his shoes, unbuttoning his uniform shirt and tossing it over a Queen Anne chair, he strode to the bed, dropped to his knees, and wrenched those smooth buttocks further apart.
“You smell incredible,” he growled. “Need to taste you.”
Mycroft moaned into his forearm when the eager alpha pressed a long pink tongue into his hole. Relishing the needy sound, Lestrade used his thumbs to hold the slippery sphincter muscle open and greedily tongue-fucked him. He’d never done this before: no omega had ever wanted anything but his cock in there. But this man clearly craved the unconventional, because he ground his hips against Lestrade and hissed, “More. Deeper.”
Lestrade pushed his face and tongue into that writhing body until his cheeks and chin glistened with omega lubrication. The hormone facial was so intoxicating that he drew back only to take a breath and rub his cock against the side of the bed. When he couldn’t fight the mating urge any longer, he stood up and saw that Mycroft was stroking himself with one hand and pulling at his tangled red hair with the other.
“You sure about the condom?” he grunted. His cock thrust skyward, demanding a connection of its own with that delectable body on the bed.
“Yes… yes.” Mycroft worked his own erection more quickly. “Please… fuck me now.”
“Damned right I’m going to fuck you now.” Lestrade was euphoric as the beast in him broke loose. Mycroft Holmes wanted no soft words or soothing preliminaries, leaving the policeman free to do what alphas were born to do: fuck an omega without grace or mercy.
He pushed Mycroft face down on the mattress, shoved the man’s wet thighs further apart, and climbed onto the bed. He lined himself up and drove all the way in on the first stroke, gasping as the slick and tight warmth gripped his cock. He’d never had unprotected sex with an omega before, and the utterly perfect synthesis of their hormones made the experience even more incredible. He was awed and ecstatic and wondering why the hell he hadn’t done this before.
Mycroft Holmes howled at the intensity of the assault he craved. “Stop whining,” Lestrade hissed as he laid full length atop the other man’s body and covered the back of his long neck with licks and careful bites. “You know you want this.”
Mycroft gasped and squirmed when a second thrust sent their balls smacking together. Lestrade’s animal brain, convinced that his fuck toy was trying to escape, grabbed him by the back of the neck and pinned him to the mattress.
“Shut the fuck up. You were made for this. Made to take alpha cock for days at a time.” He shifted his hips, sliding across the omega’s prostate. Mycroft shook with pleasure and whimpered into the duvet. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll want to send for me every time you go into heat. Because no other alpha is going to handle you like I will.”
He released Mycroft’s neck and slid both arms around that long, lithe body. The base of his cock was already thickening, warning that knotting was imminent. He pulled out a few inches and slammed back in, relishing Mycroft’s squeal as the expanding flesh stretched his arse.
“Fuck, you’re tight. Bet you don’t mate often.”
“I don’t,” Mycroft gasped, fingers digging the duvet into sweaty bunches. “Normally I handle my heats myself with toys.”
“My cock is not a toy.” Lestrade corkscrewed his hips, ensuring that his rigid shaft repeatedly grazed his partner’s prostate. He could feel his cockhead brushing against the soft and swollen opening to Mycroft’s empty womb, and imagined his seed filling it with babies. “It owns you right now. If you weren’t on birth control, you’d be pregnant by the time I leave this room.” He ran his palm over the other man’s flat, sweaty stomach. “You’d end up carrying twins, maybe triplets. Would you like that? To have no other purpose than to bounce on my cock and let me breed you?”
Mycroft wriggled beneath him, urging him deeper inside. “Keep talking,” he pleaded.
Lestrade grabbed his hips and pulled him onto his hands and knees. “Show me how much you want my knot,” he ordered.
Lestrade wasn’t sure what Mycroft Holmes did for a living, but staying in the Marlborough Room meant he was someone important. Right now, however, the man was a slave to his biological needs. Red-faced and awash with sweat, he pushed against Lestrade’s hammering cock, desperate to be filled and used. One hand went to his aching prick and tugged on it, eliciting a dirty moan.
“Oh God… oh God. I’m coming,” he choked. “Fuck me faster… oh, yes, there. Oh….”
Peering down, Lestrade saw clear fluid spurt out of a gap in the man’s fist and splatter onto the fancy duvet. The sight intensified his own fierce arousal: he felt the familiar tightening in his gut just before his knot expanded, sending sparks exploding behind his eyes and pleasure shooting through his veins like liquid fireworks.
Mycroft’s hoarse begging rapidly sharpened into a scream as the knot sealed his arse and stretched it uncomfortably wide. Lestrade grasped him around the waist and pulled him upward until they were pressed tightly together from the hips up. Mycroft, half-coherent from the mingled pain and pleasure, struggled in his arms and started to cry out again, but Lestrade’s broad palm silenced him.
“Shut it,” he ordered, voice ragged with approaching orgasm. “You know you like the way my knot plugs you up. Makes your arse so sore, but you love it. You live for this type of pain. You need it.”
Mycroft moaned his agreement against the fingers covering his mouth.
“Oh, God, I’m close,” Lestrade hissed as he grazed Mycroft’s neck with his teeth. The knot made thrusting difficult, but he managed one powerful plunge that bounced the omega several inches upward. Then he came, each spurt making his body convulse and his vision go white.
They both collapsed sideways onto the bed, groaning at the soft impact. Lestrade pressed against Mycroft and gripped him tightly around the waist while the omega’s internal walls clamped down on him and drained his sore balls dry. His still-swollen knot kept their bodies connected as they laid there, breathing heavily and shivering from the intensity of the whole experience.
“Fuck,” Lestrade whispered against Mycroft’s ear. “That was…. Was I too rough?”
Mycroft threaded his fingers through Lestrade’s. “You were perfect. Exactly what I needed. Most hired alphas are ridiculously gentle. As you pointed out, my body is made for this.”
They rocked against each other in silence until Lestrade’s knot settled, allowing him to slide wetly out of Mycroft’s entrance. Instead of separating and reaching for their clothes, both men huddled together for a while longer, basking in the hormone-fuelled afterglow. Then Mycroft shifted in his lover’s arms and said, “I hope your stamina has returned, because I will be ready again soon.”
No sooner had he spoken than a fresh flow of lubrication moistened Mycroft’s entrance and smeared across the alpha’s belly. Lestrade rutted slowly against that delectable arse and groaned, “Fuck.”
“Fuck, indeed. I presume you are aware that my heat will last for several days?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll require constant attention during that time.”
Lestrade wanted nothing more than to spend days alone in this room with Mycroft Holmes, knotting him until his insides ached and bringing them both to orgasm again and again. The thought of leaving the omega to cope with the remainder of his heat by using toys or worse, another staff alpha, agitated Lestrade so much that his jaw clenched tightly. But he had a job, damn it. Obligations.
“You have a more important obligation now,” Mycroft said, as if reading his mind. He reached up and pulled his shirt collar aside, revealing a set of teeth marks that had broken the skin.
Forgot the fucking mouth guard!
“Oh God,” Lestrade breathed as he stared at them. He’d marked Mycroft, and that meant one thing.
They were officially bonded.
“I understand that this terminates your employment at the Regency. But it also means you have a much better-paying job now.” Mycroft rubbed his arse against Lestrade’s cock, which sprang to each attention. “I see that you are also a policeman. Never mind how I know, but I shall allow you to retain that position and ensure that you are granted leaves of absence when I need you.”
Lestrade propped himself up on one elbow. “Just who the hell are you, other than the best damned shag I’ve ever had?”
Mycroft rolled onto his back and shifted until they were face to face. Now his cock was painting sticky trails across his new alpha’s stomach.
“Your future,” he said. “Take care of me now, and I shall take care of you later.”
As Greg Lestrade hooked Mycroft’s leg around his waist and plunged into that slick and perfect heat for a second round, he grinned from ear to ear and declared, “I love it when duty calls.”
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Service Call