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let me take care of you

Summary:

Groaning, Sherlock planted his head on William's shoulder in defeat. "I can't be sick."

"Even great detectives get sick, my love," softly letting out a laugh, "Let me take care of you."

 

Or: Sherlock gets sick, and William helps him get better.

Notes:

hi hii i hope u enjoy !! <3

i got this idea from @sherliamist on twt so big thank u to them !! make sure to follow them, he’s really cool

there aren't any graphic descriptions of anything, only coughing :]

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It wasn't unusual for the apartment to be full of noise at such late hours; it was New York after all. What was unusual, however, was the sound of smashing glass causing William to quickly stir awake.

For others, this may have seemed like a cause for concern. Robbery and break-ins were not exactly a foreign concept for the big city. Yet judging by the cold, empty space of the mattress beside where the blond slept, it was quite easy to deduct the source of the disturbance.

For three nights now, Sherlock had not been sleeping.

He had been fully enamored by this new case - one he simply couldn't stop fixating on, simply brushing off any attempt William had of imploring him to take a rest.

"The more I sleep, the longer it takes for this case to be solved, Liam. It's an utter waste of precious thinking time!", the detective had argued.

Whilst William cherished his partner's love of a mystery, it was beginning to be slightly concerning.

Pushing himself up with a sigh, he slowly placed his feet onto the cold wooden floorboards and made his way through the apartment.

He was quickly greeted with the sight of the man before him pacing back and forth, quietly murmuring to himself; completely ignoring the smashed glass of his fallen experiment equipment beneath his feet.

He looked... unwell.

Not noticing the blond's presence, William slowly strode towards the oblivious man. As he approached closer, he could more easily inspect the beads of sweat hiding behind navy strands on his forehead, as well as the rough breathing coming from his heaving chest.

Definitely unwell.

Avoiding completely startling the man before him, the blond gently encircled his partner's wrist with his own rosy fingers- causing Sherlock to slightly flinch with his eyes flashing open.

Light blue eyes softened as the detective realised who it was in front of him. Noticing the slow pinkening of the sky through the window, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Liam, what are doing awake at this time?", Sherlock asked with genuine concern.

"For England's greatest detective, you truly are oblivious," William chuckled "What are you doing out of bed? I thought I told you to rest."

Sherlock slowly gestured to the cluttered room around him - as if the answer was obvious.

"The case." He simply offered.

As if that was the end of the conversation, Sherlock immediately started pacing again.

He is unbelievable, the blond thought to himself, promptly opening a cabinet in which he knew a thermometer would be in. Once acquired, he strode over to his partner once again and forced the small glass pole in between Sherlock's lips.

Sherlock, once again, seemed confused at another disruption to his thinking, "Mmph- what?"

William removed the thermometer and inspected the result. "Sherlock. This says 38 degrees, you have a fever.", he exhaled. "You need to go to bed right now or you will get worse."

The other man scoffed, finding the idea ridiculous, "Liam I appreciate the concern, but I'm completely fin-" suddenly being cut off by a painful coughing fit, making his entire body jolt.

He slowly met the gaze of the blond man before him, with William giving him a knowing look with a smug smirk pulling at his lips.

Told you so, the quirk of his eyebrow told the detective.

Groaning, Sherlock planted his head on William's shoulder in defeat. "I can't be sick."

"Even great detectives get sick, my love," softly letting out a laugh, "Let me take care of you."

William urged his partner with a small push of his shoulders towards the direction of their bedroom, with Sherlock reluctantly complying. Naturally, the detective still made a point of his unhappiness - noticeably trudging his steps and letting out heavy sighs.

As they reached the bed, Sherlock flopped face-first onto the mattress, only to dramatically flip himself over onto his back.

"Ugh! Liam please, I really need to go to work and finish this case. I promise I'm so close to cracking it. I'll be better by the end of the day!"

"Absolutely not. The only thing you will be doing is resting your body to fight this fever off."

Thumping his fist against the bed sheet, like a child having a tantrum, Sherlock forcefully pushed his head into the soft pillow and groaned, with another coughing fit overcoming him.

With a wave of sympathy mixed with slight amusement at his detective's childish actions, the blond gently brushed navy strands away from the man's vision. He is really burning up, worrying a line between his eyebrows.

"I am going to get you a cold towel and make you some soup. It should hopefully make you feel better." he softly spoke while loving fingers ran across pallid skin, drifting off as the blond made his way away from the bed to the kitchen.

 

*

 

William missed Louis' company and meals dearly, often finding himself longing for those tender moments with his brother where they both laughed around the dining table at whatever amusing topic that had taken their interest that day.

The aroma of flavours circulating through the room caused those memories to spill behind William's eyes, a light smile tugging at his lips as he continued to dice the vegetables on the counter in front of him.

He couldn't wait to see him again. Couldn't wait to see everyone again.

Nevertheless, this train of thought quickly drifted off with the steam rising towards the ceiling as a creek of a floorboard alerted him of a presence behind him. William wasn't clueless. He had expected him sooner, in all honesty.

Turning his body, he was greeted with the sight of Sherlock sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the white plaster of the wall. Just quietly watching him cook with his typical smug smirk combined with lovesick eyes.

"I thought I told you to get some rest," giving the detective a pointed look.

"Jus' missed you 'sall." the other man sluggishly murmured, accompanied by a small cough.

Carefully setting the finished soup aside, William made his way towards the other while soulfully shaking his head. It was moments like this that made the blond thankful he survived the fall. In the previous few months he had sought out a reason for living. He had torn himself up over it.

His reason had always been right in front of him.

Manoeuvring his arms to support his partner, he firmly lifted the other's body into a standing position.

"Use me for support, okay?"

Sherlock made a small noise in reply as they both started their way back towards the bedroom. Thankfully, William still maintained enough upper body strength to uphold the other's weight, as the detective had seemingly given up on the idea of walking.

"Hey, please don't pass out on me, Sherly.", William warmly urged, "We're so close, just a few more steps."

Using his last remaining energy, Sherlock once again made his way back to their bed. Gently he rested himself back against the pillow, half-lidded eyes still focused on William as the blond quickly left the room to retrieve the forgotten soup.

The drowsy weight of his eyelashes tempts him to shut his eyes. Of course, Sherlock still fights the urge, with his vision zoning in and out - only stopped when William enters the room again.

The sun had risen much more by now, with golden rays causing scarlet eyes to sparkle as they moved closer to the bed.

William promptly encourages him to slouch forward for a second as he plumps the pillow behind his back, allowing Sherlock to comfortably rest upright and place the bowl of soup in his lap.

"I was never much of a cook, although I do hope it is still to your liking.", William sheepishly offered, a dusty pink covering his cheeks.

Sherlock happily takes a spoonful, always appreciating whatever his partner gives him. A wave of flavour meets his tongue, letting out an approving 'mmm' to ensure William knows he is enjoying it.

"Could use a bit more salt, but still, I am impressed, Liam.", Sherlock let out, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Sherly.", William replied with utter fondness dripping from his tongue like honey.

A comfortable silence followed, both embraced by the distant sound of birds waking from their sleep and early-morning commuters.

They remained just like that, Sherlock laying in bed while William drew careless swirls over the creases of the bed sheets beside him. As the soup slowly filtered down, William gently removed the bowl from the detective's grip and placed it upon the bedside table.

As Sherlock moved down the bed to lay more comfortably, William draped the cold towel he had prepared while waiting for the other to finish his meal over his lover's forehead; the cold chill causing the other to flinch.

"I'm sorry, Sherly. This will help break your fever.", William provided with sad earnestness.

The detective gave a nod of understanding, softly smirking up towards the other. William's kindness was definitely one of his favourite traits about his partner, never failing to shine through no matter the situation.

"I shall leave you to rest, my love. Please ensure you do, you need to regain energy.", William solemnly urged as he began to sit up from the bed to leave the room.

However, the blond was swiftly stopped with long, rosy fingers encircling his wrist, stopping him from moving any further. He turned to look at the other.

"Stay?"

It was moments like these that truly encapsulated the deep running devotion they both had for each other. He was Sherlock's reason as much as he was his.

"Always."

 

*

 

It was late afternoon by the time Sherlock awoke - lashes fluttering open to intake the golden shadows painting the wall.

He noticed his chest no longer felt heavy and congested, the grey cloud of illness fortunately leaving his body.

Thankful thoughts drifted to the other body resting upon his chest, soft breathes tickling his skin. As he let out a loving huff, the blond began to stir, and his head rose to look at the man below him.

A larger grin spread across the detective's face as he takes in the image of the other's flattened hair on the side he was resting on. God, he could never get over the effortless beauty of his lover.

"Yo- sleep well?"

William let out a dozy 'mmhm' as he gently rubbed the sleep from his eye.

"How are you feeling now?" He asked.

"Better. You cured me, Doc." Sherlock smiled.

William returned the smile, porcelain teeth meeting puffy, rouge lips.

"I'm so glad" he replied, both slowly leaning in to leave a soft peck on the other's lips.

As they pulled away, William was suddenly overcome with a fit of coughing, with Sherlock rubbing his back through it in concern.

Scarlet and blue eyes slowly meet.

"...I'll go make some soup."

Notes:

thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed !!

I absolutely loved writing this, literally fixated on it for 3 hours lmao

please leave any suggestions in the comments :]]]