Work Text:
William stared at Sherlock as the man moved about in the small kitchen of their apartment, preparing their breakfast. From the items he could see on the counter, William determined that it was their usual meal consisting of bread and coffee.
Hiding a smile at the memory of the first time Sherlock had made him coffee, all eager eyes and puppy-like energy, William thought, ‘We finally bought proper coffee filters. Sherly looks really excited to be using them.’
Startled out of his thoughts when Sherlock turned around, plates of food in hand, William rose to his feet to grab their mugs of coffee. “I could have done that,” Sherlock protested half-heartedly, walking to the table nevertheless. “You’re still recovering, Liam.”
“You could have,” William agreed with a smile, setting down their coffee before sitting in his chair again. “But I wanted to do it. You make our food every day; let me do something as well, Sherly.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes at his partner but didn’t bother to argue, biting into his bread with a hum of understanding.
Mealtime passed in silence, William taking his time to finish the food while Sherlock gobbled his in a few minutes. Instead of getting up and doing something else, the latter lounged in his chair and observed the man opposite him.
If someone had told him that he would be acting almost sickeningly domestic with a man he would call lover and partner in every way, Sherlock would have laughed in their face before listing a multitude of reasons why such a future would have been impossible.
But there he was, waiting in comfortable silence as William ate a meal that Sherlock had prepared, expression light and content. ‘If Mycroft, John or Ms. Hudson could see me now, they’ll laugh their heads off before teasing me to death.’
Yet, Sherlock didn’t mind.
William was worth everything to him, the first person ever to see beyond his mask and acknowledge him.
Sherlock woke to a warm weight on his chest and something soft in his hand.
Blinking to clear his bleary sight, he realized that the weight was a sleeping William and the softness was his lover’s hair. Warm puffs of breath against the bare skin of his neck told him that William was unlikely to wake up anytime soon.
“Not like I have anywhere else to be,” Sherlock murmured to himself, raising his head a bit to kiss the golden strands. His hands shifted until they were holding William close, reminiscent of the way Sherlock had held him when they had fallen into the Thames.
Of all the people he had met in his life, William was the only one Sherlock had ever wanted to hold. The rush of heady joy he experienced every time William willingly leaned into his embrace never once faded, hitting him just like the first time they had held each other just for the sake of it.
Caring for someone was new to Sherlock; caring for William was a gift, no matter what anyone said. William had entrusted his life to him and he was damn well going to take great care of it.
Every day, he learnt something new about William, finding more and more under the personas of the gentle mathematics professor and the vicious Lord of Crime that William had used before, even if he had been more genuine with Sherlock.
For once, Sherlock wanted to be allowed to discover more, rather than find them himself.
William woke slowly, feeling so warm and comfortable that he wanted to just sink back into sleep. But his brain was already waking up, the sounds of nature and the city filtering in through their curtains.
There was a steady and strong heartbeat under his right ear, a sound that was extremely precious to William. He also became aware of a hand stroking his hair, realizing that he had fallen asleep on his lover. Their legs were tangled together under the sheets, their bodies pressed as close as possible.
Leaning into the contact, William hummed with pleasure as Sherlock chuckled at him but continued his actions. “Morning, Liam,” he murmured, voice light with mirth. “Did you choose today to turn into a cat?”
“Meow.”
….
“Stunned into silence already, Sherly?”
William raised his head to smirk at his gaping lover, crossing his arms over Sherlock’s chest and resting his chin atop them. “Come on, love, I’ve said worse things. Certainly this isn’t the most embarrassing of them?”
Sherlock finally found his tongue and huffed, pinching William’s cheek playfully. “You little rascal, up to your games so early in the morning.”
Laughing as he rolled off of his lover to lie beside him instead, William pondered over his choice of words. He would never have been so playful before, so it was a first for him to so thoughtlessly tease Sherlock.
William had always been able to say the most embarrassing of things with a straight face; he just meant them now.
William closed his eyes as Sherlock pressed a kiss to his scarred eye, basking in the quiet affection. When the latter moved away, William gently grabbed his chin and kissed his lover on the cheek, smiling fondly at the surprised but pleased expression on Sherlock’s face.
It was the first time William had initiated a kiss, even if it was something as innocent as a kiss to the cheek.
There were a lot of things he wanted to do, wanted to experience, with the frustratingly wonderful man at his side.
To experience the world from a different perspective.
‘But for now, the world can wait,’ William thought as calloused hands cupped his cheeks and tilted his head, letting Sherlock press their lips together.