#bed-sharing

Tegan spluttered, feeling her face burn. She found herself blinking quickly.

‘W-what do you-’

‘In the bathroom,’ Nyssa said, gesturing to the door nearby. ‘Do you want to get changed in the bathroom first or shall I?’

‘Oh,’ Tegan said. ‘Er… I’ll go first.’

Nyssa giggled.

‘Are you usually this embarrassed when sharing a room with another woman?’

‘No,’ Tegan mumbled, undoing her suitcase. ‘I’m putting this on just for you.’

‘You’re so kind,’ Nyssa said, cheeks dimpling adorably. ‘Smart, beautiful and funny; you’re quite the delight, Tegan Jovanka.’

Tegan ignored the spike in her heart rate as she grabbed her pyjamas and toiletries before heading into the bathroom. She quickly closed the door behind, and stared into the mirror. A very tired and nervous-looking Australian stared back at her. Of course, she could also near Nyssa humming absentmindedly to herself outside, and heard the springs of the double bed creak as the Englishwoman sat down on the edge.

The edge of the bed they would be sharing for the night.

This was bad. This was bad.

*

‘All ready?’

‘Yeah,’ Tegan said, looking up from her book. ‘You all set for… for…’

Tegan was unable to finish that sentence, as Nyssa had appeared out of the bathroom. She was wearing a long blue-grey nightgown that reflected the gentle light from the bedside lamp, and her long locks of curly hair were hanging loose around her shoulders.

Tegan’s stomach seemed to flip over. She was suddenly aware that she herself was wearing a pair of old striped pyjamas that her step-son had bought her several years previously, and that her reading glasses had slipped slightly down her nose. A small amount of mild envy arose in Tegan’s heart at the way Nyssa seemed to move with such easy confidence, and the way her nightie gently accentuated her curves.

The rest of her heart was, of course, completely overawed. The majority vote was taken, and the envy rapidly disappeared under a lake of adoration.

‘Yes,’ Nyssa replied, not seeming to notice Tegan’s unabashed staring. ‘Rather a nice bathroom, isn’t it.’

‘Y-yeah,’ Tegan stammered, as Nyssa climbed into bed to sit beside her. And it was right beside her, since the bed wasn’t exactly large. She could almost feel Nyssa’s hip against her own; they couldn’t have been more than a couple of inches apart. ‘V-very nice.’

Nyssa looked at her.

‘Tegan, why are you blushing?’

Tegan’s hands rose sharply up to her face, and she was horrified to feel that both her cheeks were boiling hot. Goodness knew what her face looked like; probably something resembling a tomato.

‘S-sorry!’ she exclaimed, unable to meet Nyssa’s eyes. ‘I just…’

 But Nyssa didn’t seem alarmed. Instead, the Englishwoman let out a giggle.

‘Oh, you’re adorable when you’re flustered,’ she said, laying a gentle hand on Tegan’s arm. ‘Was it the nightdress? I am rather pleased with this one-’

‘Stop it!’ Tegan moaned, putting her book on the bedside table and laying down on her side, facing away from Nyssa. ‘I am not adorable!’

There was another giggle from behind her as Nyssa turned off the bedside lamp. Outside, there was the soft flutter of snow, giving the room a warm, cosy atmosphere.

‘I beg to differ, Tegan.’

*

‘Can’t sleep either?’

‘No.’

It was roughly an hour later.

Tegan let out a sigh. She had been hoping that the day’s events would have tired her out, but the fact that she was sharing a bed with Nyssa had probably caused her brain to fry. She really was useless, wasn’t she. Goodness forbid she stop acting like an adolescent with a crush everytime she was around a pretty lady.

Well, Nyssa wasn’t just pretty; she was funny, smart, kind and sweet, on top of being drop-dead gorgeous and utterly mesmerising.

Not that Tegan was taking notice, of course. Definitely not.

‘Nevermind,’ Nyssa said, and Tegan heard the mattress alter slightly as Nyssa adjusted the way she was lying. ‘At least we’re inside in the warm.’

‘True,’ Tegan replied. ‘Sorry about the smell, by the way. I think that hot chocolate on the train disagreed with me.’

‘Oh, we’re both past the age where flatulence causes embarrassment,’ Nyssa chuckled. It sounded like birdsong to Tegan’s ears. ‘Thank you for kindly not mentioning my cellulite.’

‘To be honest, I didn’t even notice. That nightie sure is something.’

Nyssa’s soft giggles shook the bed.

‘Tegan, are you flirting with me?’

‘Dunno. I’m a sleep deprived lesbian lying in bed with another woman. My brain is a tad scrambled.’

‘Good point.’

There was gentle silence for a few seconds.

‘Tegan, you never did explain what you do for a living.’

‘Didn’t think it was important.’

‘Of course it’s important; how could it not be?’

‘Spoken like a true scientist. Nah, I’m not particularly career-focused nowadays. Retirement isn’t far off.’

‘Tegan….’

The Australian let out a sigh. Oh, she couldn’t say no to this woman…

‘When I was younger, I used to work as a flight attendant,’ she said. ‘I thought it would be fun, but it got grating after a while. Long hours, couldn’t put down any roots anywhere, and tons of unpleasant passengers. Eventually, I poured some wine over someone’s head when they got snarky with me.’

‘You didn’t!’

‘I did. Got fired after the plane landed at Heathrow. Ended up working in a travel agents for the next twenty-odd years. A bit more my scene, to be honest. Although living halfway across the world from my family did get lonely at times. Still does, to be honest.’

‘Is that why you’re-’

‘Yeah. I’m heading up to the Shetland Islands to catch up with some of my mum’s family.’

‘No kids or partner?’

‘Two ex-husbands,’ Tegan said, with a snort. ‘Although I do have a step-son from the second one. He lives in Spain these days.’

‘I take it both marriages happened before you came out?’

‘Oh, I came out during the second one. Could have gone worse though; he came out as gay at the same time!’

Nyssa gave a giggle.

‘That must have been a surprise for you both.’

‘Sure was. We still catch up from time to time. Him and his husband got married a couple years back; they’re a lovely couple.’

‘Sounds nice,’ Nyssa said, quietly. ‘A family…’

Tegan frowned slightly.

‘If you don’t mind me asking…what about you? Partner? Kids?’

Nyssa sighed.

‘No. It never really happened for me. It took me decades for me to figure out the whole asexual thing, so that was an added bit of difficulty aside from finding women pretty.’

‘Really?’

‘You sound surprised.’

‘Course I am. People seriously couldn’t be with you just because of that? They were clearly morons! Nyssa, you’re… wonderful.’

That last word had slipped out of Tegan’s mouth before she’d realised what she was saying, or how it would sound with the two of them in bed together, with barely a few inches of mattress inbetween them.

But Nyssa didn’t seem to think much of it. Instead, she let out a chuckle and turned on her side to face Tegan.

‘Thank you, Tegan,’ she whispered. ‘For what it’s worth, I think you’re wonderful too, even if I’ve known you for less that twelve hours.’

Tegan’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart was suddenly beating fast against her chest. She turned on her side, so that she was looking directly at Nyssa.

‘Thank you,’ she breathed. ‘Hey, You don’t have to talk about your family. I’m guessing… lots of difficult stuff?’

‘I suppose. But… well, since you told me about yours…’

‘Only if you want.’

‘I do,’ Nyssa said.

She took a long, calming breath and started to speak again.

‘My mother died when I was five years old. And then my father passed away when I was seventeen. I… I don’t really have family; neither of my parents had siblings, and both sets of grandparents had died before I was born.’

Tegan found tears already blossoming in her eyes.

‘Oh, Nyssa…’

‘Tegan, it was over half a century ago,’ Nyssa said, gently. ‘You don’t need to get upset over it.’

‘But… oh…’

Tegan froze, as Nyssa reached over and wiped the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand.

‘Better?’

Tegan nodded, breathlessly, the feeling of Nyssa’s skin still burning wonderfully against her own.

‘Er, how… how did…’

‘My father? Traffic collision,’ Nyssa said, with a sigh. ‘On the Barnet Bypass. He was trying to get home from work and… a drunk driver ended up going sideways into the car. The coroner said that dad probably didn’t feel a thing. Of course, that wasn’t really much of a comfort…’

Nyssa swallowed, and continued.

‘I lived with a family friend for a while afterwards. Doctor Smith; he was a close friend of my father. After I went to university and got my doctorate, I went into bio-chemistry.’

Tegan didn’t say anything, letting Nyssa talk.

‘I love my job,’ the Englishwoman continued. ‘My colleagues are lovely, and I enjoy living in London. But, sometimes, I wish it wasn’t so… fast. I find that, as I get older, the frantic pace is just too much.’

‘So…’ Tegan whispered, softly. ‘The Orkneys?’

‘Away from London, and all that hustle and bustle over the holidays. I wanted… some quiet.’

‘All by yourself?’

‘Yes. I booked a little lodge to stay in. I’m used to being by myself, even in London.’

‘That seems ever so lonely.’

Nyssa sighed.

‘I suppose. But, like I say, I’m used to it.’

‘You shouldn’t be used to it, Nyssa,’ she whispered. ‘You shouldn’t be.’

Without thinking, Tegan reached over and intertwined her fingers with the woman lying beside her. The Englishwoman squeezed softly.

Through the dark, Tegan could see Nyssa’s eyes widen slightly, and her mouth curve into a wonderfully soft smile.

‘You know what, Nyssa?’

‘What?’

‘I… I think you’re amazing.’

‘You’re not just saying that because we’re sleeping together?’

‘Not a chance,’ Tegan chuckled. ‘Besides, we’re both well past that stage in our lives.’

‘True,’ Nyssa replied, with a giggle. ‘Although, surprising as it may seem, I’ve never been much of a flirt.’

‘Couldn’t have fooled me.’

Tegan could have sworn that Nyssa’s face briefly flushed.

‘Now you’re just trying to flatter me.’

‘Nope,’ Tegan said, softly. ‘You’re too harsh on yourself, Nyssa. And I should know; I’m not exactly the most confident person on the planet.’

‘Really? I find that hard to believe. I… I envy you, Tegan. Confident, brave… you’re truly amazing.’

Tegan’s heart beat happily against her chest.

‘Thank you, Nyssa.’

‘Er… Tegan?’

‘Yes?’

‘Can… can you hold me, please? I… only if you want to-’

Without conscious thought, Tegan slid the few inches left inbetween them, and wrapped her arm gently around Nyssa’s waist. Her nostrils were filled with the wonderful scent of Nyssa’s hair. Oh. It was at once intoxicating and yet relaxing, as if settling into a bath at the end of a long, difficult day.

‘Goodnight, Nyssa.’

She could have sworn that Nyssa’s face crinkled into a wonderfully sweet smile, with cheeks dimpling. In the darkness of the room, it was almost impossible to tell either way. But Tegan hoped she was right. Without thinking, she nuzzled softly into Nyssa’s hair, and the younger woman seemed to relax deeper against her. The Englishwoman’s hands slipped around Tegan’s waist, resting gently on her back, and she squeezed softly.

‘Goodnight, Tegan.’

~~~~~~~

HEAT WAVE

This was not good.

This was very, extremely not good.

Sherlock’s mouth watered as the tantalizing aroma wafted up his nose and hardened his cock, need and desire pulsing through his veins.  The source of that scent, one Molly Hooper, seemed blissfully unaware as she crawled into the other side of the bed.  It was obviously in the early stages, she likely thought it was the lingering warmth from the shower, but to an Alpha, whose entire biology was built to track that very scent—the scent of Omega heat—it was unmistakable.

And they were sharing a bed.  An unfortunate necessity, as the storm raging just outside had taken them by surprise, forcing them to take whatever accommodations they could find.  The small inn was busier than normal, and only had rooms with one bed available.  It wouldn’t have been a problem, if not for this equally unforeseen circumstance.

Fuck.

Sherlock had spent the better part of seven years suppressing a powerful attraction to the pathologist.  She may not fit the rest of the world’s description of ideal beauty (idiots, the lot of them), but her elfin features and wide brown eyes had immediately captured his interest.  In the next moment, of course, he resolved never to pursue that interest.  He couldn’t let anything get in the way of his work, and knotting and bonding with an Omega would most certainly be in the way.

And yet…

Within a few short weeks, it became clear that they were not only physically compatible, but mentally as well.  Her skills of observation could never compare with his, but she was undeniably intelligent, and easily kept up with him when he launched into a stream of deductions.  And quite frankly, she was the best pathologist Bart’s had ever seen, her skill and her intellect as appealing as her pretty, pink mouth.  He’d lost track of how often he’d gone hard just watching her perform an autopsy, and how often he’d had to sneak off to the loo and take care of it.  He felt filthy, wretched for the way he imagined it was her hand, her mouth, her cunt wrapped around him, and he came within seconds every time.

As Molly slid beneath the covers, he could feel the warmth radiating from her small body, her scent threatening to overpower him, and her heat was only just beginning!  Sherlock rolled onto his side, facing away from her to hide his now fully-hard erection, and prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that the night would pass without incident.

If there was a God, either he wasn’t listening, or he found the situation vastly amusing.

A few minutes later, Molly tossed the first layer of blankets aside.  Soon, another layer followed… then another… and with each passing moment, the aroma grew stronger, deeper, more irresistible, and he had to physically grip the edge of the mattress to hold himself back.  His mind raced through the entire periodic table twice over in a fruitless endeavour to distract himself, but despite his attempts, he knew it was only a matter of time.  It could be seconds, minutes, or hours (unlikely, given the rate at which her temperature was rising), but the conclusion was inevitable.

“Shit,” he heard her hiss in the darkness, and knew she’d finally caught on.  The mattress shifted as she began writhing in discomfort, and Sherlock’s nails bit painfully into the palms of his hands.

Then she moaned.

“Sod it,” he grumbled, and in one swift motion he positioned himself above her.

Molly took a shuddering gasp.  “Sherlock, what—what are you doing?”

“What does it fucking look like?” he growled, then lowered his face to her throat, inhaling noisily.  “God, you smell divine.”

“Sh… Sherlock,” she panted, her body growing warmer still.  “I’m in… this isn’t… you don’t want this,” she finally finished, her voice lowered to a despairing whisper.

Sherlock pulled away immediately, and she gave an involuntary whine at the loss.  He took one of her hands and pressed it to the left side of his chest, letting her feel its thunderous beating.  To further prove his point, he ground his erection against her centre, and her eyes flew open, the warm brown of her irises barely visible around the wide black expanse of her pupils.

“You were saying?” his voice rumbled deep in his chest.

“B-but it… it’s just biology—” she argued feebly.

He resisted (barely) the urge to roll his eyes.  “Biology or no, Molly, if this wasn’t something I wanted, I wouldn’t be offering it.  The fact is, I’ve been drawn to you from the moment I met, but I foolishly kept you at arm’s length, thinking I could overcome my attraction.”  Sherlock nudged at her centre again, and the whimper she let out was immensely gratifying.  “Clearly, I was wrong.  I can’t overcome this… nor do I want to.”

Molly hesitated, her eyes somewhat glazed from her building heat, but still clear enough to show how frightened she was.  The sight triggered something in his Alpha instincts—Omega scared, must comfort, must protect—and he forced a bit of distance between them, trailing a gentle finger along the side of her face.  “If you want me to stop, I will… but if you’re willing, Molly, I would like to make love to you, knot you, bond with you, make you mine in every possible way.  For I am yours, always have been.”

She gaped openly at him, her breath coming in short, laboured bursts.  “Y-you mean it?”

Instead of a verbal response, Sherlock bent his head toward hers and placed a feather-light kiss to her lips.  Before he could pull away, her hands reached behind his head and she crashed her lips insistently against his.  Any remaining hesitation was tossed aside as they snogged like randy teenagers, hands exploring one another through their clothing.  Eventually, that was tossed aside as well, and Sherlock groaned at the sensation of her fevered skin against his.  He rutted against her hip, and she made the most unexpected sound, a low, frustrated growl.

“Inside me,” she breathed, “now.”

Now, that just wouldn’t do.  Though he loved this fierce side of his pathologist, the natural Alpha in him could not allow his Omega to make commands.  Not this time, not this first coupling.  He withdrew, and she gave a cry of despair, arms reaching out to bring him back to her, but he quickly took her by the wrists and pinned both hands down above her head.

“Not just yet,” he smirked.

She attempted an angry huff, but it sounded more like a desperate pant.  “Sherlock, please.”

With a low chuckle, he shook his head, then lowered it to the junction of her neck and shoulder, where he would later sink his teeth and begin the bonding process.  For now, though, he only kissed and licked and breathed her intoxicating scent.  Instinct prompted her to turn her head, exposing her neck to him for easier access.  Sherlock hummed his approval, but still did not bite, and he both sensed and smelled her mounting frustration.

“Patience,” he murmured against her skin, then slowly began venturing southward.  He was determined to make her come at least once before he joined with her, and he desperately wanted to see if she tasted as good as she smelled.  He worshiped every inch of her skin, spending extra time at her breasts, nipping and suckling until her back arched and she ground against his thigh where it rested between her legs.  His ministrations grew rougher as he neared his destination, sucking and nibbling purple marks in the skin just beneath her breast, then just over her left hip.

Sherlock paused over her centre, the heady aroma making him almost dizzy with want.  He met her eyes hungrily, holding them as he lowered his head and licked experimentally.  Molly threw her head back with a yelp, and Sherlock greedily lapped up the nectar coating her legs and her quim.  His primal brain rejoiced at the knowledge that he was the cause of her arousal, that her dripping, gushing wetness was all for him.  He slid his hand up the outside of her thighs, and gripped her hips as he dove in again.  God, she tasted wonderful… sweet and sour and musky and entirely Molly.

It took almost no time.  His tongue circled her clit once, twice, and as he plunged a finger into her entrance, and then another, she screamed his name and her walls clenched around him.  Sherlock continued to lick and suck, drawing out her pleasure until she trembled against him.  Finally, she stilled and went limp, her panted breaths and high-pitched moans a symphony.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she sighed.

Sherlock laughed, wiping her juices from his lips.  “I take it you approve.”

“Uh-huh,” was her oh-so articulate response, accompanied by several nods of her head.

He crawled up and positioned himself at her entrance, but held himself back, not wanting to rush this.  Molly, however, had other ideas, and her hands gripped his backside, forcing him into her with one hard thrust.  They grunted in tandem at the sensation, both going very still as they adjusted.  Sherlock’s lips found hers, their tongues tangling in a sensual tango, and finally, he started to move.  Words were meaningless as they gave into their desires, every slap of their hips providing the soundtrack.  Soon a chorus of groans and sighs and animalistic growls joined in, as their pace went from languid to frenetic.

As he felt his climax building, Sherlock paused and flipped her over, and she eagerly offered herself to him.  He yanked her towards him, unconsciously baring his teeth as he pushed in from behind.  The change in position made all the difference, his balls hitting her clit in just the right way.  As her cries grew louder and his thrusts grew shorter due to his rising knot, he bent over and worked the skin on her neck.  The moment he broke the skin and tasted her blood, she came, her walls clamping so tightly he had to use all his remaining strength to push his knot inside her, and then with a roar of completion, he lost himself in the best orgasm he’d ever had.

Molly sagged with a long exhale, and Sherlock carefully laid on his side, curling himself around her as they waited for his knot to recede.  He lapped at her wound, his saliva mingling with her blood, and already he could feel their souls binding together, becoming one.  That would be solidified later, when he knotted her again, and she would bite him.

“I can feel you,” she whispered.  “I feel you in my head… in my heart.”

“Mm,” he agreed, tightening his hold on her.  She turned her head, and their lips met in a tender kiss, the frenzied heat and passion gone for the moment.  It would return, and they would make love several times over.  Sherlock made a note in his head to adjust their reservation.  The drive back to London was too long to attempt during Molly’s heat, there wouldn’t be enough time between cycles.  Most inns and hotels had policies in place for this exact circumstance; he doubted they’d have any trouble extending their stay another few days.

Sherlock snapped to attention as he sensed her unease.  “Molly, what’s wrong?  And don’t even think of saying ‘nothing,’ I can feel your anxiety.”

Molly huffed quietly before answering.  “I just can’t believe this is real… that you want this.”

He sighed.  “I thought it might be something like that.  I’m sorry, Molly.  I’m so sorry for all the pain I’ve put you through.  I should have accepted my feelings and acted on them much sooner.  I was a stubborn fool.”  He traced his mark on her neck with the pad of his thumb, and Molly shuddered in his arms as a smaller orgasm rippled through her, and Sherlock groaned as he joined her in the aftershock.

When they had both caught their breaths, Molly spoke again, her voice timid.  “You realize I might be pregnant?  Even if I’m not now, I could be after… well, after,” she finished with a becoming blush.  “I’m on the pill, but during heat, the chances of it failing are about fifty-fifty.”

Sherlock didn’t immediately respond, taking a moment to consider the possibility.  To his surprise, the prospect of parenthood neither frightened him nor put him off.  In fact, the idea of a little boy or girl with his hair and Molly’s big, brown eyes… was anything but unappealing.  He pulled her closer still and brushed his lips along her throat, eliciting another shudder from her.  “I don’t mind,” he murmured.  “I rather like the idea of you carrying my child, actually.”

Molly’s relief was palpable, bond or no bond, and she reached back to tug his head down for another kiss.  “I love you, Sherlock.  I know you may not be ready to say those words to me, and that’s alright, but I wanted to tell you now before I go mad with heat again.  I love you.”

He smiled, rubbing his nose against hers.  “My Molly… I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.  I love you.  Now and always.”

They lay in companionable silence for another twenty minutes before Sherlock’s knot reduced enough for him to slip out of her.  Molly turned their bed into a cosy little nest while he ordered room service.  It was lucky there were laws in place for all establishments to have some nibbles handy for just such an occasion.  Within minutes, there was a knock, and Sherlock opened the door to find a tray of fruit and cheese waiting just outside.