Archive of Our Own

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William woke up to soft murmurs and the warm, damp press of kisses against his swollen belly. It was almost noon. The winter sun filtered through the lace curtains, painting the bedsheets in pale gold. Ah… he sleeps so much nowadays. Now that the little one was growing, it made him increasingly, utterly exhausted. He blinked a few times, his vision clearing as he registered the figure pressed tightly against his side.

Sherlock.

“You’re back? When did you come back?” William’s voice was soft, thick with sleep.

Sherlock had left for a mission the previous evening, a rather tedious investigation revolving around tracking down a wealthy merchant's stolen prize stallion across the muddy Sussex Downs. William had gone to bed without his alpha by his side. Now, this was nothing unusual for them, but lately, the little one demanded their father’s presence at night and, naturally, made William crave it fiercely too.

“Ah. Just a while ago, love,” Sherlock replied, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. He looked up from the swell of William's stomach, his brilliant blue eyes softening instantly as they met William’s sleepy crimson gaze.

“I see.” The blonde smiled, a wave of profound relief washing over him. He ran his left hand gently through Sherlock’s messy, dark curls, while his right hand remained resting on his heavy midsection. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Why would I have woken you up, silly?” Sherlock countered. He leaned his cheek heavily against the bump, nuzzling the skin. “You looked so peaceful. Perhaps you only fell asleep this dawn, judging by those tired eyes of yours. What kind of husband wakes their wife up to announce, 'Oi! I’m home!’”

William giggled, the vibration of his laughter rippling under Sherlock's cheek.

“Besides, I was having a little conversation with the little bugger, see,” Sherlock murmured, his rough, calloused palm sliding in slow, soothing circles over the tight skin.

William nodded, his heart swelling at the sight. “They were very displeased last night. That’s why I didn’t get any sleep.”

“I am aware. My chest was aching the whole night being away from ya,” Sherlock admitted softly, releasing a heavy wave of his cedarwood pheromones to coat the room in warmth. “Precisely why I’m trying to appease them now.”

“Are they appeased?”

Sherlock turned down to look at the belly again, leaning close. “Are you appeased, little mate?”

He got a sharp, energetic kick right against his jaw in response, making the alpha break into a wide, triumphant grin. “Yes. Safe to say they are.”

William raised an eyebrow, a playful, affectionate glint in his red eyes. “And what about the mother? Don’t you need to appease him too?”

Sherlock chuckled. He rose slowly up the mattress, his frame sliding over William’s until he was eye-level with the omega.

“Aye, absolutely,” Sherlock whispered, his accent thick and syrupy. He didn't waste another second. He descended upon William’s lips, pulling the blonde into a deep, lazy, and utterly indulgent kiss.

The kiss was slow and heavy with comfort. Sherlock’s tongue swiped lazily against William’s, tasting the sweet warmth of his sleep-softened mouth. William let out a small purr, wrapping his arms tightly around Sherlock’s neck, pulling his alpha down until there wasn’t a single sliver of space left between them. They cuddled lazily, shifting against the sheets, exchanging soft, wet nuzzles along each other's jawlines and ears.

“You’re glowing, you know that?” Sherlock muttered, kissing his way up William’s ribcage, his calloused hands gently kneading the soft skin of William’s hips. “Absolutely beautiful. My gorgeous dear, you are.”

“Sherly, please, you are making me overheat,” William murmured affectionately, though he leaned directly into the touch.

After a long moment of quiet holding, Sherlock settled back down, burying his face right back over the baby, placing his hand on top of William’s and simultaneously rubbing circles on the protruding skin. The room fell quiet, save for their mingled breathing. Sherlock went completely still, his mind slipping into its favourite habit.

“Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” Sherlock asked, his gravelly voice dropping to a soft whisper against the mattress.

“Hmm?” William mused, his fingers gently playing with the tips of Sherlock’s hair. “Does it matter?”

Sherlock shook his head instantly against the curve of his belly. “’Course not, love. I’ll love the pup whatever they turn out to be. Boy, girl, alpha, omega... won't change a bloody thing.”

William smiled. “I still can’t believe it, Sherly,” He looked down at his belly with twinkling eyes. “This is our baby, a little human we created, and they are seven months old already.”

“Yeah…” Sherlock said softly, his voice drifting into a daydream as he stared at the swell of the linen shirt. “A little baby with your crimson eyes.”

The omega stilled, his fingers pausing in the dark curls. “My crimson eyes? Why my crimson eyes? Your brilliant blues are so much more gorgeous.”

“Nah, don't say that,” Sherlock grumbled, lifting his head slightly to press another warm kiss to the fabric over the bump. “Your eyes are brilliant, Liam. Breathtaking. I want the little bugger to look just like you.”

“Oh, Sherly, why?” William looked down at his own hands resting on the bump. “I want them to have your blue ones. Clear, bright, and full of truth just like the sky after a storm.”

Sherlock scoffed gently, sliding his body up the bed until he was looking directly into William’s face. He reached up, his rough thumb tenderly catching a stray tear at the corner of William's eye.

“Meh, whatever, it doesn’t matter. They could be born with purple eyes for all I care.” Sherlock concluded.

“Mhmm.” William seconded.

“Mind you, though,” Sherlock murmured, his voice dropping into a softer, gravelly tone, “if I’m completely honest with ya, Liam… I think I’d very much like a boy.”

William perked up at that, his eyebrows lifting in mild surprise, “Oh? And why is that? I thought you just said it wouldn’t change a bloody thing.”

Sherlock sighed, trailing his fingers lazily along William’s hip, his gaze dropping to the sheets for a brief second. “It doesn't change how much I’ll love 'em. Not one bit. It’s just… this world of ours, Liam, it ain’t very kind to girls. Especially not right now. They can’t just do whatever they want, can they? They’re boxed in by rules, society, and high-and-mighty alphas who think they own the world.”

He paused, his jaw tightening slightly, “I’ve seen what my mother had to fight through just to be heard. She was a brilliant woman, I’ve told ya about her, but she could hardly portray her true abilities under my father’s shadow. And Enola… bloody hell, I’ve watched everything my sister went through just trying to exist without father or society breathing down her neck. It’s a rotten uphill battle for a girl, and I hate the thought of our little one having to fight twice as hard just to be free.”

“That didn't stop Enola, did it?” William countered softly, his voice full of quiet, unshakable confidence. “It didn't stop her from growing into a fierce woman who took her own life’s reins into her own hands.”

Sherlock’s lips twitched upward into a faint, reluctant grin, recognising the truth in his words.

“And besides,” William continued, leaning down to press a tender, lingering kiss to Sherlock's cheek, his hand gently threading through those dark, chaotic curls. “Think about it, Sherly. A little girl with your temperament? A child carrying the stubbornness of Sherlock Holmes? She would never bow before the patriarchy. I know you’ll make sure of that.”

Sherlock let out a loud, breathless chuckle, the heavy worry completely melting from his chest as he pulled William back down into his arms for a massive, crushing hug. “That’s true, that’s true.”

“Gosh, Liam, I can’t wait for them to arrive.”

“Neither can I.”

“Can we name them Magnesia if it’s a girl?”

“We cannot.”

“Awww :( how about Benzene if it’s a boy?”

“No.”

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