Chapter Text
Talent.
“Someone has truly blessed you with exceptional talent. Keep it up!”
Wits.
“You’re a genius! These masterpieces of yours!”
Legacy.
“This looks splendid, Sherlock! Your works will truly leave you a legacy throughout the years!”
I mean, I have all of them. It’s a good thing. The fame, the money, the praise, and all the recognition. I have all of them.
As a famous sculptor that had been making art for as long as I could ever remember, I handle my works delicately, precisely, and carefully. Every client that comes and goes, the smiles on their faces with all the shine in their eyes filled with praise, delights me more than anything that there are still some people who appreciate the works I painstakingly create...
But as time passes...
They felt emptier.
As if something deep in my soul felt like a part of me was missing something. It was longing for something that I once had before, the familiar warm feeling in my heart.
I never knew I needed it that badly until I felt the emptiness that had been bugging me.
Until they became too unbearable.
I succumbed to the effects of drugs, alcohol, and Nicotine. I tried to keep myself as sane as I could while searching for the familiar warmth I had been longing for. It made my head spin. It was a hard struggle.
I opened my eyes, seeing all but bright white. It was vague all around me, though I’m sure I just woke up at my work desk. My head feels fuzzy, yet I can hear a faint sound of a voice echoing. As if it were laughing. The voice gets clearer and louder than I finally got hold of my senses.
The voice was deep, yet tender. Not too loud, nor too soft. Nor raspy, nor hoarse. Just right, that makes me feel at ease.
I looked around, searching where the voice could have come from. And as I turned around, a figure of a man was looking at me.
His eyes were painted in a deep scarlet hue, a hearth of fire that you’ll never tire of staring at, drawing you closer like a moth mesmerized by a lit candle.
Its blonde hair was like silk threads that were as bright as the sun, and its skin was delicate like porcelain. Oh, I tell you, this person looked more ethereal than all the words I could use to describe it.
He was looking at me with a warm gaze and a small smile, his chin resting on his palm. His hand reached into my disheveled hair, uttering nothing, but his smile says anything but affection.
Oh God, he’s fucking beautiful.
“Sherly? Sherly wake up!” a voice shook me awake.
It was my brother, Mycroft.
“Huh? Myckey..?” I looked up to him, feeling drowsy. I just realized that I fell asleep on my desk for God-knows-how-long, and had a very weird dream.
“It’s your brother, you bloke! You look horrible... Have you been eating or even taking a bath?” his voice scolded me while cleaning up my tools scattered everywhere.
“Uh... I don’t.. Know”
I was still in no right mind to think about reality. My brain was still left from the dream I just had, and I couldn’t shake the thought away. It all felt too real.
“Why are you here..? Don’t you have work?” I scratched my head while taking a stick of cigarette, lit it up then exhaled a cloud of smoke.
I could feel my brother’s piercing stare at me from behind, yet I paid no attention to it. Often he’d visit me here in my workplace to check up on me, or something else that’s important.
I don’t really give a damn about what he does. We live in two different worlds, which is why I don’t really want to get in the spotlight the same as his, though, ironically speaking, I just made a name for myself already.
“Someone I know is holding an exhibit for artists here in London, and they told me you should join too. They’ll put yours as the highlights to showcase your works.” he replied.
“Huh, that’s great... And when will that be?” I lazily replied, then took a breather on the cig again.
“Exhibit starts on the third week next month, held at the National Gallery. Wear a suit and tie, though.”
“Fine, I’ll join.” I retorted, rolling my eyes while tapping the cig’s ashes.
“Wonderful, I’ll tell them right away then” he smiled then fished his phone from his pockets.
Myckey left the scene to have a phone call. I was still feeling half-asleep and I definitely need more hours to spare for it. Though the thought of the person who appeared in my dreams still left me dazed. I remembered his face all too well just a while ago, and now his face is vague the moment I thought about him again.
But this feeling inside me won’t go away. The urge to see him again is too strong. I might grow restless thinking about him.
“Do you want to share a cigarette?” a streak of smoke lured me to a man who had a stick between his lips.
It’s him again.
The setting was nothing really special compared to the first time. It was currently nighttime, and we were leaning on the balcony at my workplace with London’s city lights scattered all around like a pool of stars.
“Yeah, I’d like one..” I replied, handing out my hand to him as he took out a stick from a pack then gave it to me.
I rummaged through my pockets for some matches to light it up, though I got hold of nothing.
“Ah, I don’t have my matches, damn it.” I cursed.
“Come here...” he spoke while I turned to him.
I leaned closer, letting the tips of our cigarettes touch as mine lit up. I gave myself a nice look at his face carefully, in a closer view.
It felt like we were close enough to kiss if it weren’t for the cigarettes between our lips.
His eyelashes were long, his lips look plump, and the apples of his cheeks were tinted with a light pink color. The way I described his features in my head made me blush.
After I took a huff on the stick, letting out some smoke escape my lips, he pulled out his cig, then smiled at me. I found it pretty sexy not gonna lie.
We just stood, leaning on the balcony, silently watching the streets. As I know that I’m merely dreaming all of these, I couldn’t stop my heart from pounding rapidly. His presence was calming, yet the surrounding tension was thick, and each second that passed made me crazy about what I should do next. It felt like we had been keeping quiet for... Forever.
“Uh... Hey.”
“Hmm... Yeah?” his voice was sensual, diverting his attention to me.
“What’s your name?” My voice was slightly shaking out of nervousness.
His face shifted into a confused expression, followed up with a smile. He tapped his cig to get rid of the ash, breathed on it again, then looked back at me again.
But the moment he was about to utter his name, the wind blew hard, and I ended up watching his lips move while speaking, yet I heard nothing.
“Ah, I’m sorry... I didn’t quite catch that. Could you please repeat it?” I scratched my head, feeling a bit embarrassed.
He didn’t reply. All he did was smile.
Then, suddenly... Everything went black.
I woke up again.
My heart was still pounding, and my hands felt cold. It took me a good few seconds to process all that happened, and in a rush, I wasted no time picking up my pencil and paper as I started to roughly sketch him while my memory was still new. His hair, his eyes, his lips, and his smile, even the faint-looking dimples on his cheeks. Every inch and curve I kept in my memory, I made sure to never miss a detail of it.
After I finished the sketch, I ran my dirtied hands across the crumpled paper I drew on, feeling my lips curve into a smile the moment my eyes lay on his lips. Oh, I can still imagine how sultry they looked when he leaned close. It made me bite my lips, quivering with excitement.
“Jesus, you’re so goddamn pretty...”
In a flash, I took my tools, and a huge chunk of marble cube then placed it on my empty work desk. I pinned my rough sketch of him on an easel as I carved on the marble.
Several weeks have passed, and he still appears in my dreams every few nights. In some rare cases, he’d show up during my naps, where I’d fall asleep at random times. The more frequently he shows up, the more I got to know him through a few talks since I’d instantly wake up after he speaks, which is frustrating at some times. The scenarios in every dream with him in it would take place in different places that I’m mostly unfamiliar with, or in most times, all around us would be just plain white. Though what kept on bugging me was all the times we’d met in my dreams, I haven’t known his name yet. Every time I’d ask him, he’ll just give me a smile, or he wouldn’t respond at all.
Which I find oddly peculiar. Well, he’s just a man in my dreams, knowing his name wouldn’t bring me any harm. But I’d still want to know who and what he is.
My work of him had also been looking well. I’m almost done doing the little details, and soon, I’ll be putting it on display in the exhibit that my brother told me about a few weeks ago.
As I was taking a quick smoke, I just kept on staring at it. Hell yeah, I’m proud of my work, of course.
Why wouldn’t I be? How can someone resist this mysterious godsent? Visiting you in your head while you snore your ass out in reality, sharing a cigarette intimately like those flirting bastards in the movies...
Oh God, what would his lips feel like?
I flicked my cigarette away, slowly leaning towards the bust, looking at him directly at his eyes. Faint streaks of smoke escaped my lips as my calloused fingers graced his rough marble cheeks, giving them a careful caress. With every inch I leaned closer, my heart raced faster. I didn’t dare look away, and suddenly, my eyes just magically turned him into flesh, just how he looked like in one of my dreams, his eyes staring at my own.
Then, slowly, I close my eyes.
Closing the gap between our lips to a kiss, feeling the warmth in me spread throughout my body from his hard, yet cold, marble lips pressed against mine. It felt all too familiar at once. My insides were disgusting, they were twisting and turning. It’s making me crazy.
Yet it felt good.
It felt like I was in love again.
I pulled out from the kiss, staring at the sculpture, as my mind went back to reality, my cheeks flushed in bright red when I realized what I had just done.
“Ugh fuck.. I’m going insane.”
I lightly plopped my head on the table, cursing at myself.
It was finally the day of the exhibit. The National Gallery was packed with critics, guests, and people that I know little and care about.
My previous works were only showcased at that day, excluding the thing I recently made.
“You look old for someone who’s in his early thirties”
“You’re bloody 24, and still don’t know how to tie a tie.” my brother teased back, pointing at the crumpled tie I tied myself. I know it’s embarrassing.
“There were attempts that failed miserably. Give me a break, will ‘ya? Tsk..” I rolled my eyes at him, untying my tie to fix it again.
He lightly chuckled.
“Go fix that problem of yours in the restroom. I’ll go check on your exhibit on the second floor.”
“Yeah, yeah... Got it” I clicked my tongue, walking away from him while my focus was on the tie as I was on my way to the men’s restroom.
...
“Fucking... Dammit...” I cursed for the nth time, finally giving up on my tie, but then I heard a light chuckle from my side, sounding a little amused at my struggle.
“You seem to have a hard time tying that..”
“Isn’t it obvious?” I replied, words dripping with sarcasm, yet not making any eye contact.
The fellow chuckled again as they reached their hand out.
“May I help you?”
“Uh... Yeah, I give up. Please help me.” I sighed in defeat.
The person walked closer to me. It sounded quite familiar like I’ve heard it somewhere before. It made me feel a hint of déjà vu for a moment. But the moment I looked at the person, and just like that, my eyes widened in surprise.
Holy fucking shit.
It’s him.
As much as my uncontrollable urge to scream and freak out right now is very strong, I tried my best to keep myself composed as possible. While being close with another man, whom I’ve never ever met before, who looked exactly like the one appearing in my dreams, tying my goddamn tie.
He was close to me. I could even smell his perfume with scents of vanilla and strawberry, which were very sweet. His slender and fair hands moved smoothly while tying his glassy scarlet eyes lidded with his long eyelashes.
And his lips...
SHERLOCK HOLMES CALM YOUR BALLS JESUS CHRIST. That’s a stranger! Have some bloody decency, young man!
“There~ though it looks a bit creased... Quite a struggle you were having a while ago.” the blonde man smiled, finished tying my tie.
“Oh... Um... Thanks, mate.” Was all I could reply.
“You’re very welcome, Mr. Holmes...”
He knows me?
“Mr... Holmes?” I repeated.
“Sherlock Holmes. This exhibit’s highlights are your works, right?” he smiled while taking out a pamphlet, then pointed to a page with my face on it.
“Y-Yeah! Sherlock Holmes, that’s me!” I nodded at him with a laugh, scratching my head.
SHERLOCK! WHAT THE FUCK?!
“Ahh~ it’s a pleasure to finally meet you! I’m a fan of your masterpieces!” his smile widened while reaching his hand out for a handshake.
“Pleasure to meet you t—” I replied while taking his hand, but a voice cut my sentence off.
“Will?”
Will..?
A tall man with neatly combed blonde hair and crystalline eyes came into the restroom. He dons a sapphire-colored waistcoat and a royal blue necktie while holding a black coat over his arm.
“Ah, James... Look who I’ve met here, it’s Sherlock Holmes!” he approached the fellow blonde, clinging onto his free arm while the excitement was evident on his smile.
“Oh, what are the odds?” James smiled as he lightly bowed at me. Not gonna lie, he looks charming. Though, I somehow felt an enormous lump blocking my throat, following the anxiety slowly eating me up after this... James guy showed up.
“It is an honor to meet you, Sir Holmes. Will here admires your works very much. I’m James Bond.” he added.
“Will?” I curved my lips in a smile, my eyes diverted back to Will.
“My name is William. Nice to meet you, Mr. Holmes..” he smiled warmly at me.
William huh...
“Ah, is that so?... I’m glad you admire my work... William.” I smiled. I couldn’t help but watch James’ free hand snaking on William’s waist, pulling him close.
I think I want to get this exhibit done with and leave the hell out of here.
“Pardon my rudeness, but we should be on our way now. We look forward to seeing more of your masterpieces in the future, Sir Holmes.” James and William bowed at me once again as they held each other’s hands leaving the restroom, while I just kept the smile on my face until the doors closed shut.
I rushed into one cubicle and heaved a deep sigh. The burning heat in my body was bit by bit, being replaced by the coldness from my frigid hands and the knotting feeling in my stomach.
I feel sick.
So he’s taken. Oh, the irony.
What a fucking clown you are, Sherlock.
I mean, I could have known that. It would have been a ‘what-if’ thought that could’ve passed through my mind randomly. The impact could’ve been subdued if I had just thought about this would have happened.
Do you know what’s fucking funny about it?
The way it happened all so fast, IN FRONT OF ME.
Did you see the way he pulled him close, like some alpha male? Even his smile looked really intimidating, despite how sweet it looked.
Why did it have to be in front of me, though?
Well, who am I to talk?
I’ve fallen for this stranger in my dreams and they just magically appeared in front of me like this was plotted by some deity to make us meet and hurt me right on the spot.
He was just a stranger.
A goddamned stranger.
And my mind assumed too much that he was the one for me because of some person who looked like him in my dreams.
Now I look like an idiot here, sitting on a toilet seat and processing what the fuck just happened.
After a few moments, my phone rang, seeing my brother’s name and number on the screen. I took a deep breath before answering the call.
“What’s up, Myckey?” I greeted with a laugh.
“What do you mean ‘what’s up?’ I thought you almost choked yourself on that tie. You’re taking so long already! I’ll tie that for you.”
“Ah, no need... I already got it done.”
“Well, then hurry. You have guests here... Also, John and Mary are here too.”
“A’right, I’ll be on my way now...”
I tapped the red button, ended the call, and stuffed my phone back into my pockets. As I exited the restroom, I took a deep sigh and raked my hair. I turned on the faucet, then gave myself a little refreshment on the face. I stared at myself in the mirror.
“Pull yourself together, Sherlock Holmes. You’re here to make a name, not flirt around and find a darling to date...” I whispered to myself, then hurried out of the restroom while wiping my face with a hankie.
“Sherlock! There you are! We thought you already choked yourself on that tie... Oh, it’s... Tied up nicely..” John, a close friend of mine, approached me along with his wife, Mary.
“Ah, some... ‘Fellow’ tied it up for me.” I replied, looking at my tie while my eyes roamed around the gallery, which was already packed with people, though still looking for William.
“Oh, I see... We just want to check up on you and congratulate you... We’re very proud of you, alright?” he tapped my shoulder in assurance while Mary just smiled at me, leaning her head on John’s shoulder.
Great.
“Thanks, mate, your support always amps me up... Send my regards to your little gremlin, a’right?”
“Haha, I will...” he laughed.
“We’ll be heading off now, Sherlock. Congratulations again~” Mary smiled at me with a wave.
I gave them a wave as they walked away.
For some reason, I feel bitter.
The exhibit went smoothly. I met a few guests, a few familiar faces and acquaintances of my brother’s, and a few chatting here and there. It was mentally exhausting.
The whole day, I had this strong urge to look for William everywhere. Yet I couldn’t find him in every corner and floor of the gallery, so I assumed he must have left with his... Boyfriend.
It was already past sunset, and I felt like I needed a breather. The exhaustion was already settling in my system and I needed something to keep me awake for at least longer until I feel the need to sleep.
I strode to the smoking area while taking a stick from my pack of cigarettes, then lit it up with a match. I took a moment to close my eyes, thinking nothing but... Nothing. My eyes roamed around the whole room while taking another breath on the stick.
Empty. Quiet. Almost ear-deafening.
At the least of sanity left in my brain, I still hopelessly wished William was here, at least out from that balcony, also taking a cigarette.
I tapped my stick on the ashtray to rid some of the ash before walking towards the slightly opened door to the balcony. The glass was tinted in black, so I couldn’t get hold of the image from the other side of the door. I heard faint sounds of gasps and moans followed up by the rustling of clothing.
“Huh?” my eyes narrowed down in curiosity, trying to keep my steps as quiet as I could, then I slowly peeked into the crevice between the door.
I stopped breathing for a split moment.
Despite the faint light that shone from the moon with little to nothing of the stars scattered from the night sky, the view was clear as day. He was sitting on the edge of the balcony, face unreadable from the fellow that was showering his neck with kisses. His nicely done suit was now missing in places, unbuttoned everywhere, leaving him half-naked.
He was moaning, panting, gasping for air, and all the sounds that escaped his lips. It made me blush up to the tips of my ears.
I bit my lip while I stayed there for a few more seconds when our eyes met suddenly.
Despite the lustful and shameless mess that he looks like right now, my chest slowly rose when his lips curved into a smile, then a slow lick on his lips, dripping in allure.
It was like the devil smiled at me.