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Sherlock sighed, and took another drag from his cigarette. He hadn’t planned on coming to this “last hurrah” being thrown for their class by their underclassmen. But John was already acting like a sad puppy because he had to leave Mary behind (for a whole year), and unable to resist his best friend looking so sad, Sherlock had finally agreed to tag along.
He regretted that now. John was off with Mary, being ridiculously in love, and Sherlock was left to smoke and ignore a nearby group of girls who were watching him, and giggling amongst themselves. He was pretty sure they were in Year 11, and if they approached him, he would be rude.
He was rude at the best of times, and at the moment he was too many shots into a bottle of whiskey to make even a passing attempt at civility towards girls he had never spoken to and, after graduation day, would probably never see again.
“Here you are. When I saw John without you, I wondered if you had bothered to come.”
Sherlock grinned, and straightened from his reclined position against the short stone wall that surrounded the house that was hosting their party for the evening.
“Liam,” he greeted, internally rolling his eyes when he heard one of the Year 11 girls gasp, and one of their voices became almost comically high pitched. Not that Sherlock could blame her for reacting to Liam.
Blonde hair. Red eyes that always looked at him as though they shared a secret. William Moriarty was their class’ head boy, and the poor nearby girl wouldn’t be the first or only that pined for him.
Even Sherlock… well, he refused to use the word pine. It was far too pathetic.
Liam leaned next to him. The Moriarty family was haunted by tragedy and defined by the kind of power that ran countries in backroom deals. Liam looked the part, in tailored slacks and a sweater that looked soft and touchable. He wore a collared shirt beneath it, finishing off an aesthetic that spoke of money.
It shouldn’t be attractive to Sherlock, who tended to ignore his own paternal pedigree in favour of his mother’s more modest roots. She had fought and clawed her way onto an even ground with his father, and Sherlock would never forget that.
(It shouldn’t be attractive to him… but it was)
Liam reached out, taking the cig that was dangling from between Sherlock’s lips. He raised a brow as the blonde raised it his own, and took a deep inhale.
“Careful, Liam,” Sherlock murmured, as he took the cigarette back, letting it dangle in his fingers. “Someone might start to think you like me, and start a rumour.”
Liam raised a brow in challenge – it was always a challenge with him, and Sherlock loved every minute of it. It had been that way since Year 10, when he had discovered that the mastermind behind a series of revelations that left several students at their school in disgrace, forcing the district staff to expel them, or have their entire life’s work destroyed. Sherlock hadn’t agreed with his methods, but damn if he hadn’t been impressed with the way he so artfully made everything fall into place.
He had planned the whole thing to end with his own expulsion, when he was revealed as the mastermind, but Sherlock hadn’t been willing to play Liam’s part for him quite that perfectly. Instead, he had done things his own way, Liam’s group of vigilantes were disbanded – outside of desperate times – and in the aftermath, they had become friends.
And perhaps something more. But never in front of the school. Never where the world would see. Sherlock didn’t take it particularly personally. After all, he was aware of his reputation in the school – if it had a delinquent, Sherlock was it – and he couldn’t blame Liam for not wishing to tarnish his perfect image, by openly being involved with him.
Yet Liam was next to him, rather than with his younger brother or their friends, sharing a cigarette within easy view of the group of girls, whose gazes were clearly curious.
“I don’t care about rumours,” Liam replied, and it was Sherlock’s turn to raise a brow. Liam was an exceptional liar, but Sherlock wasn’t about to buy that. Seeing that he was disbelieving, Liam huffed, took the cigarette for another pull, and moved even closer to Sherlock, so their arms weren’t just brushing, but pressed together. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but… I sometimes have difficulty. Doing the things I want.”
“Liam, I knew that before I even realized how very interesting you are. Everyone knows that. John knows that, and while he is wonderful with people, that’s because he takes them at face value, not because he’s necessarily good at reading them. I don’t quite catch your point, however.”
“I didn’t keep you a secret because I was afraid of rumours. I kept you a secret because you were… you are the one thing that is mine. You are the one thing I can’t be anything but selfish about. I refuse to share you.”
Sherlock stared at Liam, shock rushing through him at first. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. And as it made sense, it put stolen kisses and touches and secret dates in an entirely new light.
Not an embarrassment. Not a shameful attraction to be hidden.
Sherlock felt a slow smile curl his lips. He knew it was smug, by the way that William looked at him somewhat irritated. He’d seen that look on the face of his brother’s cat before. The cat that liked to pretend to hate him, but who curled up in his lap purring when no one else was around.
“Why the change now? Are you finally going to show the world in general that you have a thespian’s heart? Liam, you devil. You’ll shock them all.”
“Perhaps as much as I don’t wish to share you, I wish to lose you even less, Sherly.
Sherlock felt his breath catch at Liam’s use of the nickname. When Mycroft used it, he found it annoying and infantilizing. But from Liam?
Oh, Sherlock wanted him to say it again.
“It’s their last chance to confess to you,” Liam continued, as though he hadn’t noticed Sherlock’s reaction – he had, of course. The tiny smirk said as much. “The fear of rejection was too much, when they would have to see you daily afterwards. But now that you’re about to graduate? They’re getting ready to shoot their shot, as they say. I… dislike it.”
“Liam, that sounds an awful lot like jealousy.” And Sherlock was just tickled by that. Liam did such a good job of hiding his emotions, that getting this small insight, one that showed that he cared, was worth more than he could say. Liam just continued to smirk, watching the girls who were still staring at them, murmuring. Sherlock suspected he wasn’t the only one in danger of getting an unwanted confession, and damn if that didn’t make him feel his own spark of jealousy. His cigarette was done, and he crushed it beneath his shoe, took out another one. “You know, sharing a cig might get some tongues wagging, but it won’t really stake a claim. If that’s what you’re hoping to do.”
“I suppose you have a suggestion, then?” Liam asked, watching as Sherlock dangled the cigarette between his lips and lit it.
“Sure do. Just hold still.”
Sherlock took a long drag, and Liam straightened up, looking somewhat curious, as to what Sherlock would do next. He grinned at him, as he inhaled, and then reached out to cradle the back of Liam’s neck. He held the cigarette out far enough to be sure there would be no fiery accidents, and then sealed his lips over Liam’s own, exhaling smoke into the blonde’s mouth.
Sherlock was vaguely aware of the group of girls making some sort of noise. But Liam had grabbed the collar of his wrinkled shirt, and angled his head, tongue running along Sherlock’s own, as if to try and steal the taste of smoke from his mouth.
The entire world could burn around them, and Sherlock wouldn’t notice. Not when Liam was kissing him. It was the way it had always been. His mind whirled a mile a minute, particularly when he was debating with the other boy… but as soon as their lips touched?
Mind empty, only Liam’s lips existed.
He completely forgot about their audience, and the fact that they just outside a building that held all of their class and then some. The thought may have briefly crossed his mind, but then Liam took his bottom lip between his teeth, nipped it just hard enough to sting so sweetly, and thoughts once again disappeared.
It was Liam who broke away from him at last, though he didn’t move far, continuing to clutch the collar of his shirt. He did, however, turn his head, and that was when Sherlock realized someone was standing there, clearing their throat.
He turned his head so, like Liam, he was looking at the intruder. Red eyes, not quite identical to Liam’s, but close, were glaring at him from behind the thin wire frames of his glasses. Sherlock wasn’t entirely sure when he had pissed in Louis Moriarty’s Rice Krispies, but the boy had never liked him, and had never made a secret of that, despite their having exchanged fewer than a dozen words over the past three years.
Just behind Louis was John, looking rather embarrassed. Mary found it adorable, or so she claimed, the way he was so easily flustered. Sherlock just wondered what they got up to behind closed doors, if a kiss was enough to turn him red. Poor sod.
“Hello, Louis,” Liam said, and he released his grip on Sherlock’s shirt, took a step back, and Sherlock immediately missed his warmth. He realized his cigarette had nearly burned to the end while he’d been otherwise distracted, so he took one last pull from it, and stomped it beneath his shoe, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the stone wall again. “Is Bonde not with you? I’m sorry if we both left you all alone.”
“I’m the one that left him alone, I’m afraid. I got into a discussion with John. I was surprised when he mentioned that Holmes had come.”
Sherlock gave a twisted smile directed at Louis, who looked ready to go on the attack. Instead, he looked at Liam once more with a tight expression. The elder brother let out a heavy sigh.
“Louis,” was all he said, and the two brothers looked at each other, as though communicating silently. It was something they did often, Sherlock had noticed. It happened with the eldest of them, Albert, as well, though he had only experienced that once, when Mycroft had dragged him to an event that the three also happened to be at.
Louis finally sighed, his shoulders falling.
“You should know that everyone is talking about it,” he said at last. “One of the girls who claimed to witness your… behavior was crying. I’m not sure which of you it was over, but someone broke the poor girl’s heart.”
“She’ll live,” Sherlock replied with a chuckle. “Broken hearts rarely stay that way in high school.”
Louis did a passable job of hiding the way he wanted to snap at him, but the way he held his jaw made it clear his teeth were clenched.
“Fred has retreated to the library,” he finally said, focusing his attention pointedly on his brother. “Moran and Bonde are both more than capable of taking care of themselves, so I plan on getting him back home. I wanted to see if you wished to come as well.”
Liam looked sideways at Sherlock, who raised his brows in reply. Louis wasn’t the only one who could communicate with him with only looks. Their gazes held, and tension rose between them. At last Sherlock sighed, using a hand to ruffle his ponytail.
“Well, I suppose I might as well call it a night as well. Are you staying longer for your sweet good-byes?” that was directed at John, whose expression immediately fell into that of a kicked puppy.
“She had a curfew, so she’s already gone,” he replied glumly, which explained how he had been drawn into conversation with Louis.
“Well then, come along and I’ll get you back to your home. Maybe Miss Hudson will still be up, and let you borrow something to drown your sorrows.” He clapped a hand on John’s back, and looked back at the Moriarty brothers. They had been joined by a slight boy that Sherlock remembered being part of Liam’s group that first year. He had been in middle school at the time, but had still been part of the group. He had to be in Year 10 at least, now.
Fred, he assumed.
“Well, Liam. If you ever want to share another cigarette, call me up. You know I always have one on hand.”
Liam smiled back, his eyelids lowered just a bit, making his expression look smug and flirty. Sherlock didn’t think many others had gotten to witness that looked.
Or maybe that’s just what he liked to believe.
The two groups went in their separate direction. The Moriartys were probably off to meet a car, and Sherlock would text Mycroft to send one to John’s to pick him up. They hadn’t gone too far, when he turned around, walking backwards, and cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Oi, Liam!” When he saw the blonde head stop, turn back towards him, he continued. “I don’t want to either – share or lose you! So you should probably just go out with me!”
“That is the worst invitation for a date I’ve ever heard!” Liam called back, and Sherlock was sure Louis must be looking positively scandalized, as he watched his brother shout across the block to Sherlock.
“I’m asking you to be my boyfriend, but if you want a date first, I’ll bring you flowers!”
He heard Liam’s laughter even across the distance between them.
“Convince Louis to tell you what my favourites are, and you have a deal!”
Sherlock laughed, even as Louis leaned into Liam, probably berating him for getting him involved. Anyone else might take that challenge as a sign that Liam wasn’t interested in a relationship, but Sherlock knew better. Louis was devoted to his brother, and would eventually overlook his distaste of Sherlock, if it meant Liam would be happy.
Sherlock would just have to convince him that he could make Liam happy.
“William Moriarty?” John asked, once they were gone far enough there would be no chances the brothers could hear. “Since when?”
Sherlock raised a brow at John, because he had been there, back in the beginning. In fact, he had even accused Sherlock of having a crush – at the time, he had denied it, had even meant that denial. Of course, that was because he hadn’t yet discovered the entirety of Liam. He knew better now.
“Oh,” John looked thoughtful. “You know. It makes more sense than not. I retract my surprise.”
Sherlock chuckled, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. It had vibrated with a text.
From Liam.
When you take me out, wear that shirt again. I like it.