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Sherlock woke first to find John and himself imprisoned in a small 8x10 room. It was empty with the exception of them, a worn out mattress on the floor, a loo and a camera high in the corner where even he couldn’t reach it. The room was chilly and he felt it more than he normally would as both he and the doctor were completely nude.
Getting up, he Sherlock crossed over to check the doctor for a pulse. He pressed two fingers against his left carotid artery and was relieved to feel it there, a strong beat beneath his fingers. He sat down near John with his back against the wall to wait for the other man to wake up.
When John woke, he felt disoriented and groggy. He looked around the small room as he tried to sit up. Sherlock caught him by the arm and helped him lean against the wall.
“What happened?” the doctor asked, his mouth dry and rough.
“We were drugged and kidnapped. Obviously. I can think of six potential reasons why our clothes have been removed.” Two of those reasons made his stomach roll in dread. “But I only have one theory as to who has kidnapped us. Moriarty. Show yourself!”
“Fuck.” John struggled to his feet, damned if he was going to face Jim Moriarty sitting down. Next to him, Sherlock sprang up, obviously far more recovered from being drugged.
They only had to wait a few minutes before Jim made his appearance, armed guard in his wake. “Hello boys,” he sing-songed as he gave them a little wave. “I'm so glad you chose to join us.”
“Like we had a choice,” John muttered.
Moriarty ignored him. “I suppose you know why you’re here, Sherls. I promised to burn the heart out of you and this is where it’s going to happen.” He looked from Sherlock to John. “It’s far too early for you to feel it yet, but in a couple of days, the suppressants you both take will wear off. Won’t that be exciting?”
John shot the detective a questioning look.
“Don't say a word John. Not. A. Word.” He had a suspicion where Moriarty was headed with this and if the doctor opened his mouth, things could get uglier very fast.
Moriarty threw back his head and laughed. “Look how well your pet obeys you. But when you go into heat and you trigger his rut, he won’t be so obedient, will he? Even if you beg him not to knot you, he’ll do it anyway. Of course, you’ll be begging him to. And if he doesn’t do it, I'll kill you. That or I may knot you myself. I might even bond you if he doesn’t. Then you’ll be MINE,” he finished with a shout.
John took a step towards Moriarty, but Sherlock’s outstretched arm and the guards raised weapon stopped him in his tracks. “You’re fucking insane.”
“Yup. That’s what I’ve been told and it’s so much fun. Bye, bye now.” He turned his back on them and walked casually from the room, the guard closing the door and locking the two men inside.
“Sherlock...”
The detective shook his head. “We can’t talk about it. I’m sure he’s listening.” What they couldn’t talk about was the fact they had shared Sherlock’s last two heats when they had gone off their suppressants and had planned to bond during their next one. They couldn’t let Moriarty know that, though, or he would surely knot and bond Sherlock himself. “I won’t let him know how this affects us.”
John understood. He didn’t want to give Jim any reason to take Sherlock for himself. He was going to have to put on a show of being anxious, angry and worried. He wasn’t the best actor in the world, certainly not as good as Sherlock, but he would try. Besides, there was always the concern that Moriarty would change his mind anyway and simply take Sherlock. That should be enough to be getting on with. “Well fuck. Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!” He started pacing the small room, his left hand opening and closing into a fist.
“Indeed.” Sherlock wasn’t worried about Jim changing his mind. He knew the Irishman wanted them broken and thought his plan would do it. He only resented that something which should have been private between himself and John would be witnessed by Jim and his henchmen. That thought repulsed him. He was tempted to sink into his Mind Palace until his heat pulled him out of it, but he couldn’t do that to John. It would be too cruel to leave him waiting by himself.
A small door opened and a tray of food was shoved through along with two bottles of water.
John looked at the provisions with loathing, then he sighed. “I suppose we might as well eat that. We’ll need the energy for when...” He stopped and swallowed hard. “Anyway.” He picked up the tray and carried it over to the mattress where he sat. “You’re eating too.”
“Not hungry.”
“Don't care.”
The detective sat down by John and picked up his plate. He picked at the food as he usually did, only eating about one third of it. He knew that as the suppressants wore off and his heat approached, his appetite would pick up dramatically. He’d probably eat enough for both of them by tomorrow night.
The next morning, Sherlock could already feel his body changing. The room felt hot and far too small. He felt light cramps starting low in his abdomen and knew that the discomfort would only increase over the next two days. On top of that, he was more aware than ever of John's wonderful scent. He wanted to wrap himself around the man like he would have done at home and simply smell him, but that was out of the question. To keep up appearances, they had retreated to opposite corners of the room. The whole situation was hateful.
As for John, it almost caused him physical pain to stay away from the Omega. No, they weren’t bonded, not yet, but they had planned to do it soon. Besides, he loved Sherlock with or without the bond and he hated seeing how miserable he already was even at this early stage of pre-heat. To distract himself, he started exercising in his corner of the room, jogging in place, doing press ups and the like. It didn’t help much, not with the sweet scent of Sherlock permeating the room.
That’s how most of the day passed, with the exception of the times when meals were pushed through the opening in the door. They were larger than they had been the day before and Sherlock fell on them, storing up energy for the days to come. Even John ate more, his own Alpha body reacting to the change in the detective’s and urging him, too, to store up energy.
Towards what must have been the evening, Moriarty and his guard made another appearance. The Irishman sniffed the air ostentatiously and closed his eyes. “Yum.” He looked from John to Sherlock. “Sherly really smells quite tasty. I didn’t think he’d be this far gone already.” Jim crossed over to the detective who had stood upon his entrance and made a show of sniffing him, running his nose along his collarbone and along his neck. “I could just eat. You. Up.” He looked over his shoulder at a furious John Watson and smiled coldly. “But that would ruin my plans.” With that, both he and the guard abruptly left the room, the door closing with a clang behind them.
Later, John pretended to sleep, but it was impossible. He could tell from Sherlock’s scent that his heat was approaching faster than expected. It would be upon him in mere hours and the doctor’s own body was reacting. It would only take a mere touch from Sherlock to tip him over into rut. From where he lay, he could see the hateful red light on the camera above and knew their every move was being watched. He longed to gouge out Moriarty's eyes for what he was no doubt soon to witness.
With a moan, Sherlock crawled towards John. His thighs were slick and he couldn’t bear the twisting need to be filled another moment. “John... I need you. I can’t take it anymore.” He fell on the doctor, writhing, trying to get John’s cock into him as fast as he could. He needed to be filled. He needed it right at that moment. If he didn’t get it he would die. His rational mind knew better, but his body didn’t.
Immediately, John grasped him by the arms and flipped him over onto the old mattress and pinned him face down. His large cock was already erect and hung down between his legs aching with need. “You’re mine,” he growled, thinking of the threat Moriarty had made to take Sherlock for himself. He plunged his cock into the Omega's slick and relaxed hole, driving into him again and again.
Beneath him, Sherlock cried out with ecstasy and the relief that only an Alpha's cock could bring him. He could feel John's knot each time it pressed against his rim and he pushed back, wanting nothing more than to have it inside him.
Their bodies flexed and sweated, writhed and sang with their building climaxes. When John finally pushed his knot into the Omega, he placed the bonding bite mark on the back of Sherlock’s neck as he came deep inside him. Sherlock was tipped over the edge immediately and he spilled a small amount of come over the old mattress as he cried out.
Afterwards, they lay there, locked together by the knot and lethargic. The lethargy was even more pronounced than usual due to their recent act of bonding. Neither of them noticed the fact that the red light had gone out on the camera.
Mycroft had shut down the camera feed as soon as he had realised what he was seeing, then he had casually taken a gun from one of his minions and shot the computer that Moriarty had no doubt been using to record the whole thing.
“Anthea, when you’ve located where my brother and Doctor Watson are being held, do not disturb them. It’s a matter of some delicacy. Come get me and I’ll speak with them.”
In the end, Mycroft had clothes provided for the pair and ensconced them in a hotel not five minutes away. On the whole, he thought, things had turned out for the best. It was high time the pair had bonded, anyway. As for Moriarty, he wouldn’t be seeing the light of day again.
John and Sherlock tumbled into the hotel bed together, this time laughing and giddy as the next wave of Sherlock’s heat came over them. They had several days to enjoy together and they made the absolute best of it.