It occurred to me while writing the end section of this chapter we'd never addressed how Beta/Omega/Alpha dynamics work in this fic (As they're pretty much different depending on who you talk to). And seeing as we can't find a way to mention it, we'd just have to sling it in at the start of a chapter.

So here you go:
Betas: Regular humans. Can breed with Alphas of opposite sex. Extremely common.
Alphas: Respond to omegas in heat and can breed with anyone. Less common than Beta's but still fairly typical.
Omegas: Go into heat, males can get pregnant. Cannot breed with Betas. Rare and therefore sold/traded.

Sherlock woke feeling better than he had in years. He turned to face John, who was still sleeping. He looked so relaxed Sherlock couldn't help but smile. He moved forward and gently planted a kiss on John's cheek.

John made a soft sound as he began to wake, rubbing at his eyes, "Wha..." he blinked as his gaze focused on Sherlock, and smiled, "Oh... hey, you."

"Good morning."

"Sleep okay? I've been told I talk in my sleep..."

"Yeah, fine. I'm very difficult to wake. Do you have lessons today?" Sherlock asked, sitting up slowly.

"No, not on Saturdays."John rolled onto his back, yawning, "I could stay here all day."

Sherlock laughed before lying down, his head level with John's chest.

"We should do something."

John wet his lips, "Oh?"

"Nothing like that." Sherlock said, elbowing John in the leg.

John laughed, "Sorry. What did you have in mind?"

"How big is your garden?" he asked.

"Um, pretty big. Larger than your average garden, I guess." John shrugged, "Do you want to see it?"

"Yeah, it might be nice to wander around. I've only seen 3 of the rooms." Sherlock said, sitting up again and stretching.

"Well, we'd better get some breakfast first. If we get lost in there I'd rather we didn't starve to death."

"And maybe get dressed?" Sherlock pointed to a large pile of clothes that sat on top of John's dresser. "Your servants are extremely quiet."

"Oh, yeah. Well, they have little respect for privacy..." John pushed himself up and swung his legs off the bed.

"I wouldn't be surprised if we spontaneously decided to have sex and found some condoms suddenly on your table" Sherlock laughed.

John smiled, "Yep. Be careful what you wish for."

Sherlock turned red. "I uh...I...uh..."

"I'm kidding!" John patted his hand, "Sorry, I'm not the best at jokes." John stood, moving over and grabbing the clothes.

Sherlock laughed nervously for a moment.

"I think those are for me, actually. Seeing as I don't have any."

"Yeah," John tossed over the clothes, "Didn't want you getting cold."

"Thanks." Sherlock quickly pulled on the shirt. It was much like the one he had been wearing when he arrived, but higher quality. He rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. "Does your family have a dress code or something?"

"Flashy and overpriced." John shrugged, opening up his drawers, "If you ever see my mother without a pearl necklace, assume it's an imposter."

"Good to know." Sherlock said, looking down before taking off the shirt again. "May I use your shower?"

"Of course." John pulled on a white polo.

"I suppose it would be silly if I couldn't" Sherlock said, climbing off the bed and heading into the bathroom. "Oh look, there's an extra towel for me."

John smiled, shaking his head, "They may be intruding, but convenient."

Sherlock smiled at John before closing the bathroom door. He turned on the shower and stared at himself in the mirror while it warmed up.

John moved over to sit on the bed, holding a pair of trousers on his lap. He rubbed his eyes, resisting the urge to go back to sleep. He'd never been up this early on a Saturday before...

After a few moments Sherlock stepped into the shower and let the warm water cascade down him. He felt his hair flatten against his head and he ran his hands through it. How long had it been since his last shower alone? He decided he was going to milk it.

After awkwardly leaning back and wiggling into the trousers, John stretched on the bed, taking a sip from the glass of water beside the bed. He swirled it around the glass, trying to ignore the thoughts swimming through his head, possibilities of what could go down in the garden...

Sherlock opened one eye long enough to grab a bar of soap from a little dish on the shelf. As he began to clean he couldn't help but hum to himself.

The delicious smell of breakfast cooking wafted into the room. John groaned a little, "Sherlock?" He called, "I don't know about you but I am starving!"

Sherlock groaned and stepped out of the shower. He'd wash his hair tomorrow then. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out into the bedroom.

"That is the nicest shower I have ever been in. I hope you appreciate me leaving it so soon." He said before grabbing one of the new pairs of underwear the servants had brought and marching back into the bathroom.

"I'll make it up to you." He grinned, "Promise."

Sherlock quickly dried his body with the towel and pulled on the underwear, which was a little too tight for his tastes. He walked back into the bedroom drying his hair.

John was mid sip when Sherlock entered the room. He choked a little, quickly averting his gaze, "Sh-Sherlock..." he stammered, "Uh... are those new?"

Sherlock looked down. "They were in the pile the servants brought in. They're a bit tight aren't they?"

"Uhhh..." John stared at a crack in the wall, "Kinda... my parents most likely... you know."

Sherlock smiled as he pulled on a pair of trousers.

"You're cute when you're flustered." he said as he put the shirt he'd chosen back on.

John spluttered, "Pfft, I... oh, shut up."

"Shall we head down? I'm fairly sure I smell pancakes."

"Yup." John awkwardly stood, "Yeah, I love pancakes."

Sherlock headed to the door and was just about to open it when it swung open, just missing his face. Mrs Watson beamed in.

"Hi boys"

John rolled his eyes, "Mother... good morning."

"Hello Mrs Watson." Sherlock said. She looked him up and down.

"Oh fantastic! You found the new clothes; I picked them out special for you. Come on now, breakfast is getting cold!"

John shot Sherlock a 'told you so' look. "We were just on our way, mother."

John's mother shot John a look before striding off down the hallway.

"What was that?" Sherlock asked as he stepped out into the hall, holding the door for John to follow.

"My eternal nightmare." He took Sherlock's hand, "Ignore her."

"I intend to." Sherlock quickly kissed John on the cheek.

John smiled, "Good."

After a fairly tense breakfast with John's father glaring at them over his newspaper, even more so after Sherlock said he wasn't aware people still read them, Sherlock and John walked out into the garden. It was a strangely pleasant day for England, absolutely no sign of rain in the clouds.

John reached over to take Sherlock's hand, "Sorry about my parents. Are you okay?" he asked, guiding him through the rose bushes.

"I'm fine. The whore comments are losing their sting." Sherlock said. "Roses? Someone's a romantic."

John grinned, "You caught me. Maybe I'll surprise you, cover the bed in them for when..." he trailed off, coughing awkwardly.

Sherlock quickly looked up. "Oh look that cloud looks like...anything...nonsexual."

"Yes. A fluffy bunny."

"Or a duck."

"Both. They're playing tennis."

"Tennis? Really?"

"Why not? Maybe they're training for the Olympics..."

"You have a strange mind." Sherlock said, planting a quick kiss on John's temple. They reached the centre of the garden, where there was a cushioned bench under a canopy. Sherlock strode ahead and ran a hand over the seat. "It's dry. Maybe we could sit here for a bit?"

"And do what?" John asked, walking forward.

"Whatever comes to mind I guess?" Sherlock sat down on the bench, resting one leg along it. John sat down at the end of the bench, frowning. Sherlock moved his foot and gestured for him to move closer, but John shook his head. "What's wrong?"

"Does this feel fast to you?" John said. "I mean, we only met each a few days ago. After my parents bought you."

"It does feel a little quick, yes. Does it bother you?"

"I don't know." John squirmed in his seat. Sherlock moved closer to him and held out his hand.

"William Sherlock Holmes."

"John Hamish Watson." John took Sherlock's hand and shook it. "So why not William?"

"It's too common. Have you ever met another Sherlock?" Sherlock and John's hands dropped to rest on the bench.

"No. Have you ever met another John?"

"6." Sherlock replied. "But none of them were like you."

"What do you mean, like me?"

"I don't tend to like people."

"They don't tend to like you either."

"Yes, well, I don't like them first. So when I do come across someone I like, someone who interests me…it's rare."

"Are you telling me I'm not your first?"

"You're the first who's been interested back." John reached out and placed his hand over Sherlock's.

"It only bothers me because I don't feel like I'm ready for you." John sighed. "You have this…feeling that you know so much more than me and here I am with you as my first kiss and…it's a little stressful."

"I've only ever kissed someone I didn't even care for. I feel nervous when I even think about kissing you." Sherlock replied, staring at the ground. "Maybe that's best, that we're both nervous." He looked at John and smiled. "Knowing things in theory only helps a little in practise John. I'm sure there are plenty of things you'll know that I won't."

"Like what?" John scoffed.

"Medicine. How to make people smile." John looked up at Sherlock and paused for a brief moment before kissing him. Sherlock fell backwards but John continued kissing him. His hands moved down Sherlock's body until they reached his trousers. He began to slip his hand down them, which prompted a very sudden reaction from Sherlock. Within seconds John found himself on his back with Sherlock straddling him, kissing him forcefully with one hand by John's waist for support and the other…well. John was eager to return the favour but Sherlock would stop and glare if he even tried. John wasn't sure what to do with his hands. He ran one through Sherlock's hair but the other lifelessly hung down by his side. He decided Sherlock's waist would be good, but he couldn't reach it and settled for his upper-back. Sherlock was encouraged by John's moans and mumbled nonsense. John felt so close, only a little bit more and…

Sherlock stopped.

"Rugby." He said.

"What?" John replied, annoyed and confused.

"You're also good at Rugby." Sherlock smiled, sitting back on his and John's legs.

"I…really hate you right now." John muttered, pulling his legs out from under Sherlock. Sherlock laughed and led down on his side next to John. It was tight but they both just about fit on the bench.

The two spent the rest of the day talking about them, sharing stories and secrets. At lunch time John went inside to grab some food and came back out with some books from the library as well. They spent the next 6 hours reading to each other before John's mother came out to fetch them. After an extremely quiet dinner with John's father mysteriously absent, John and Sherlock retired to John's room where they continued their reading until they fell asleep.