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At last, the dreadful case of the Professor and his bloodthirsty hound had reached its conclusion. Though Herlock and Yuujin had hoped to be satisfied and relieved after expertly solving yet another case side by side, this particular case’s horrible resolution inevitably came to pass.
And it was all too much for poor Yuujin.
Sometime around 4 am, Herlock simply can’t stand to see him unraveling any longer. He sees the anxious sweat glistening on Yuujin’s brow, his frantic pacing, and, well, the very fact that he was still awake at 4 am after what was nothing short of an exhausting day. Clearly, Yuujin needed him, Herlock decides.
“Yuujin, my dear friend… I’m well acquainted with such ungodly hours of the night, but this is unlike you— Are you feeling okay?” he asks, though he’s already deduced the answer.
Yuujin sighs heavily. “Well, Herlock, to be quite honest…” His voice breaks, almost imperceptibly so— but not even the smallest detail gets by the great detective. “No, of course I’m not.”
“...Would you care to talk about it? Verbose as I may be, I can be a good listener for such a dear friend.”
Yuujin sighs. “I don’t believe I have the words to express how I’m feeling, unfortunately.”
“I see,” Herlock says, his brow thoughtfully furrowed. “Well then— how about a walk? Perhaps we can work out some of your anxious energy on a stroll side by side.”
“Hmm…” he hums in contemplation. “That does sound nice.”
“Excellent!” He makes his way over to the coat rack and retrieves Yuujin’s coat. “I believe you’ll be needing this— there’s a bit of a nip in the air.”
“Sholmes… It’s the beginning of June.”
“Yes, yes, I know— But, as a native of this country, you should really trust my judgement of the weather patterns!” He says, already slipping the coat over Yuujin’s arms. “I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, my dear friend.”
Yuujin relents with a smile. “... Fine. But only if you wear yours, as well— I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, after all.”
Herlock smirks. “Oh, how dare you turn my logic and reasoning against me.”
Their coats donned to ward off the freezing June weather, they make their way out into the midnight streets of London. They easily stroll along, sharing in the soothing silence of the night punctuated only by the occasional rumble of carriage wheels over the cobblestone streets. Yuujin must admit, perhaps he was right about the nip in the air when the wind gusted just right; he was glad to have a friend who cared so deeply for his well-being, even at the risk of sounding rather silly at times. Yuujin takes a deep breath of the crisp, bracing air; perhaps, coupled with Herlock’s company, it could be just enough to soothe his troubled soul.
Inevitably, Herlock breaks the silence. “Shall we make our way to the river?”
“Hmm, that does sound nice,” Yuujin concurs. “The sound of flowing water is known to have therapeutic effects, after all.”
“Ah, does the good pathologist dabble in the science of psychology, as well?”
“Well, yes and no— there is a biological basis for this phenomenon, you know.” Yuujin begins. “Given that our body is seventy percent water, it’s only logical that we would have a deep-seeded, neuroevolutionary connection to large bodies of water.”
“... But, neuroscience aside, the sound of flowing water is simply pleasing to the ear, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I suppose I can agree to that…”
Herlock smiles back, a glimmer of concern for his friend in his eyes. “As much as you like your science, I feel that soothing suits you better at this moment.”
“Perhaps you’re right… but it is a fun fact all the same.”
“Indubitably, my dear friend,” Herlock smiles. “You have the funnest facts.”
At last, they arrive at the banks of the River Thames and find a nice bench to perch themselves upon. The gusty charcoal skies have given way to a clear summer night; the moon’s soft light catches upon the rippling currents of the river, giving rise to sparkling waves that lap and gurgle softly against the shore. Beautiful as it was, Herlock found that he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of Yuujin, who had closed his own in contentment. Herlock’s heart burst with joy to know his humble suggestion could help his friend find even a crumb of peace of mind.
His eyes were drawn down to his cheekbones, so sharp and strong as if a testament to the inner strength he so admired Yuujin for— he’d suffered more tragedy than any man should have to in his life, and even through it all, he’d never given in to his sorrow. His eyes fell further down upon his face to rest upon his lips, parted ever so slightly as they were. Quite honestly, something about him— perhaps his aura that always managed to bring Herlock’s raving self back down to earth countless times over their six years together, or maybe the supple look of his lips— was nearly irresistible.
The sun began to climb its way over the horizon, heralding in the break of day and making Yuujin’s skin glow beneath its pale light; it took all of Herlock’s willpower to keep from kissing him back into consciousness.
It was then that it finally dawned Herlock— He loved Yuujin with all his heart, whether just before sunrise or under every beam of moonlight they could ever share.
The realization made his heart soar and sink all at once. How on earth had he not realized these feelings sooner? Why now, when they have but one day left together before he leaves England and Herlock himself behind?
He curses himself and his foolish feelings under his breath; it stirs Yuujin from his rest.
“Hnngh? Did you say something, Sholmes?”
He jumps. “Ah! No, no— nothing at all, I assure you.”
Yuujin raises a brow at him; Herlock is more than a bit ashamed of how warm his cheeks grow under his intense gaze. He hoped the cover of darkness was enough to hide his shame. “...Now, I know that you’re the great detective of the two of us, but you’ve certainly taught me to catch a lie when I see one.”
“Yes, indeed… perhaps I’ve taught you a bit too well.”
“Or, perhaps, it’s elementary, as you’re wont say,” he smiles— a smile so bright it puts the sinking moon to shame. “Tell me, aibou— why are you cursing under your breath?”
Herlock bites his lip; for once, his impulsive nature gives way to hesitation in matters of the heart. “...It’s truly nothing, partner.”
Though he’s a bit distracted by how… charming the image of Herlock biting his lip is, he presses him further. “You aren’t getting off the hook that easily, Sholmes. Tell me, or I’m perfectly content to hold you hostage here until you do.”
“Hold me hostage, you say?” Herlock smirks, then plunges back into the depths of contemplation. Yuujin would be leaving all too soon whether he tells him of his feelings or not. What has he to lose?— Other than his beloved partner, that is.
Herlock steels his resolve with a deep breath. “Hostage or not...” he mumbles, the most sheepish Yuujin has ever heard him. “... it would be nice to be held by you.”
Yuujin stares at him through the heavy silence, his eyes as wide as the moon. “It would be… what?”
“Oh, I knew it was a silly thing to say…” Herlock hangs his head in shame. “I understand your rebuking my advance wholeheartedly. I’ll leave you here in peace, far away from my fatuous influence.”
He stands up to leave, to escape back to the suite and hole himself up in his room until he can become nothing but a bad memory to his beloved, star-crossed partner.
But Yuujin catches him by the arm. “Herlock…”
Herlock looks back at him, tears brimming in his eyes. “...What?”
Silence hangs like a fog in the air once more, until finally:
Yuujin wraps his arms around him.
Herlock freezes in his embrace, wondering if this is too good to be true; once he realizes he hasn’t split from reality, he hugs him back and nestles his face in the crook of his neck. He relishes the smell of his very essence, warm and earthy as petrichor intermingled with the intoxicating musk of Yuujin’s favorite cologne. The faintest trace of formaldehyde still lingered on his skin, too; for most people, such a scent would be a repugnant reminder of death, but for Herlock, it was so distinctly Yuujin that it brought his senses to life like never before.
“Herlock?”
Sholmes tries with all his might to pull himself away from the most comfortable neck he’s ever nuzzled into. “...Yes?”
Yuujin gazes sadly into his eyes. “...I trust you know that this can’t be forever.”
Herlock averts his eyes, as if a furtive gaze at the ground can help him dodge a truth he knows to be evident. “...Yes. I do. You’re leaving me behind, aren’t you.”
“Herlock,” Yuujin says, his voice stern yet overflowing with warmth. “You know I would never make this choice deliberately, especially if I’d known how you felt.”
“Unfortunately, there’s no choice to be made, partner. Fate has it that we aren’t meant to be.”
“Perhaps not…” Yuujin begins. “...But that doesn’t mean we can’t be for just one day.”
“Do you mean to say…?” Herlock says, his eyes alight with joy.
“Yes,” Yuujin replies. “I can be yours for a day— and you can be mine.”
Herlock’s mouth, usually pulled into a cocky smirk, melts into a smile that rivals the rising sun in its warmth. He takes Yuujin’s hand in his and kisses his fingers. He kisses his way up his wrist, his arm, his shoulder, the crook of his neck— so softly that Yuujin shudders beneath the machinations of his lips.
Herlock’s trademark smirk returns to him. “Aw, you’re shivering— aren’t you glad I insisted on you wearing your jacket?”
“I believe we both know that’s not why I’m shivering,” Yuujin laughs.
Herlock chortles before pressing more kisses along the length of Yuujin’s jawline, then meandering up to the cheekbones he was so fervently admiring earlier on their walk.
Herlock pulls away, leaving the ghosts of his kisses lingering on Yuujin’s skin. “...My dear partner?”
“...Yes, aibou?” Yuujin whispers back.
With beautifully lidded eyes and a lazy smile, Herlock matches Yuujin’s affectionate gaze. “May I kiss your lips?”
Yuujin smiles back— a smile so bright it puts the setting moon to shame. “There’s nothing I’d love more.”
Herlock smiles into the kiss, their lips crash into one another like the waves of the Thames; they share kiss after rolling kiss with all the unabashed indulgence of lovers choosing each other despite the odds stacked against them. Whatever curious chill may linger in the early morning air, it means nothing against the warmth of their mutual embrace— arms wrapping around waists, fingers easily tangling into hair or cupping themselves around the warmth of cheeks in sheer unadulterated bliss. They relish the taste of one another’s lips as they give way to one another’s mouths like the pull of the tides— like their lips are a function of nature, pre-destined to fit together perfectly.
They share countless kisses until the sun finally crests the horizon, leaving the moon to its peaceful slumber. With dopey smiles, they press their foreheads together and gaze so deeply into one another’s eyes that they could dive into the ocean of love within.
“My dear partner,” Herlock whispers breathlessly. “...I believe I’ve waited all my life for the way you’ve looked at me tonight. I only wish I’d realized it sooner...”
“Herlock, my dear,” Yuujin murmurs, just as breathless as he gently pushes Herlock’s curly mop of hair out of his face. “... there’s no time for regrets. Every moment is precious.”
Herlock gently strokes Yuujin’s cheek with his thumbs, his eyes glistening with affection. “You’re right, my beloved partner. And you’re more precious to me than any moment could hope to be.”
“...May I kiss you again?” Yuujin asks.
Herlock cups his face in his hands. “Of course, my love.”
And so they plunge into one another’s kiss in the dewy morning air once again, letting the river of their love carry them to someplace bright and bigger.