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Sherlock would always make him coffee.
Every morning without fail, William would wake up to the distinct aroma of freshly brewed coffee inside their shared apartment in Brooklyn. It has become a comforting scent that draws him to sit in their dining table to join Sherlock for (an often late) breakfast though most mornings, he had very little to no desire to eat anything.
But that has changed dramatically since their return from Vermissa.
Now each morning, William would get off the bed with a more apparent delight painted across his face, and a quiet enthusiasm as he helps Sherlock prepare their breakfast together in their small kitchen. Shoulders almost brushing, comfortable bickering, and stories about anything falling upon their smiling lips as sunlight fills the room through an open window, the smell of black coffee wafting about, and the curtain they had bought and put up not long ago fluttering at the edges whenever a gentle breeze would blow.
It was a routine that William naturally and swiftly got used to whenever Sherlock was not out with Billy working on an assignment. He treasured those quiet, blissful, and simple mornings more when he soon decided to work for the Pinkerton agency as well.
Especially now.
Sherlock has to go away on a long journey overseas alone to investigate on a matter concerning military international affairs that could potentially spark war.
After the meeting with regards to that assignment, William had not said a word as they walked out of the room and boarded their carriage home. He was not displeased nor angered about the decisions made, for he had agreed to them as well as it was the best option they had. His concern was far more personal– intimate. Something he just couldn’t share with everyone.
When he started working on the agency together with Billy and Sherlock, even though they couldn’t leisurely enjoy their mornings, it was fine as they’re always together even on assignments that require long days away from their home in Brooklyn. Even without Billy, they would complete each given job flawlessly, a thing that was to be expected given the tandem of Sherlock Holmes and the former lord of crime.
Today, William had woken up before Sherlock, but instead of making breakfast by himself, he waited until Sherlock was awake.
Sitting by their dining table, William watched as a still disheveled, and yawning Sherlock made them breakfast, and of course– coffee. He stared and stared, burning in his mind this image of Sherlock working about in their kitchen with ease as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee began to mingle the air.
That messily tied up hair, strong back, wide shoulders, rolled up sleeves. . . the soft scuff of shoes on the wooden floor.
“Somethin’ up?” Sherlock finally calls out, not stopping from his work. “I can feel your eyes on me.”
Of course you would. “It’s just about the assignment given to you.”
“What about it?”
“You didn’t seem reluctant to go.”
“Did it look like that to you?” A shrug, “It’s work so, it’s not like I had much of a choice anyway.”
In London, William knew that Sherlock only chooses the job or cases that piques his interest. But here, Sherlock didn’t really get to choose what type of assignments he will work with. William figured it must have been quite stressful, and there were also the fact that the assignments can be extremely dangerous, but when he brought that topic up, Sherlock just kindly waved William’s concern off.
I’m also doing this as thanks to Billy. We owe him a lot after all. Plus we need money.
Sherlock turned just then when William didn’t respond, two identical cups occupying his hands. He placed one on the table in front of William before sitting down across him as Sherlock always does.
Smirking, Sherlock playfully dropped, “What, you gonna miss me?”
William toyed the curving handle of the cup in front of him, fingers brushing the smooth porcelain as the scent of coffee tickled his nostrils. His lips formed a gentle smile, “Is there a problem with that? It is only natural that I would.”
Not expecting such an honest answer, Sherlock reached out for William’s free hand that was placed on the table. As their eyes met, their fingers slowly intertwined, curving around each other’s. A soft, giddy laugh gingerly escaped their widely smiling lips, cheeks dusted with an adorable kind of blush as if they never held each other’s hands before; as if they were two virgin lovers meeting in secret for the first time.
“I’ll miss you too.” Sherlock softly and straightforwardly declares.
“As you should.”
Their gentle laughter filled the room once more, and their fingers curled tighter against one another. They don’t normally say and admit such things directly, but it was different this time. Sherlock would be travelling to foreign places and the mission could take months or even years to finish. Not to mention the dangers it poses.
“I’m still reluctant to leave you.”
The pad of William’s thumb brushed up and down Sherlock’s forefinger. “I assure you, I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry.”
I know your strength, but if there is someone who must worry, Sherly, it has to be me. For you’re going far away, out on lands and seas unknown to both of us.
Sherlock snorted, frowning. “You can’t ask somethin’ like that from me. I’ve gotten used to you being near me, and I’ve been taking care of you this whole time.” The next words were low, almost shy. “And I want to keep doing that. . .”
William thinks he’d troubled Sherlock during his period of recovery. But it became clear to him soon enough that it was Sherlock’s own adorable way of showing affection. “Then, you must return to me.”
A nod, tone relaxed, “I ain’t gonna die, that, I promise you.”
“Then I shall swear the same.”
Grinning, Sherlock lifted their linked hands and pressed his lips against William’s fingers, releasing it after, saying, “We should be really drinking our coffee before they get cold.”
They ate slowly, sipped their drinks patiently, occasionally reaching out to caress each other’s hands, drawing as much moments and conversations they can. Under the table, their feet and legs would constantly touch, intentionally and not.
This routine had went on until the day of Sherlock’s departure.
And so, with both of their hearts aching in bittersweet, momentary goodbyes, it was with a fierce embrace and a sweet, ardent kiss that Sherlock left one morning. The taste of the coffee they shared lingering in their mouths, with it was the utter promise that they’ll both be back safely in each other’s arms soon.
A promise they’ll keep tightly inside their hearts each day that they’re apart.
When William returned home after sending Sherlock off, he suddenly found the apartment strangely cold, silent, and somehow empty, as if Sherlock took all the warmth and laughter with him. As it was, everything began to finally sink in.
Sighing, William’s gaze fell upon their kitchen, chest tightening– an ache he was unsure if he can get used to. But he will, and yet. . . William could no longer wait to see once more the familiar, comforting sight of Sherlock standing there, with his tousled dark hair, smiling lips, and sleepy voice, filling their quiet, simple mornings with the scent, taste, and warmth of freshly brewed coffee.
"this is when the feeling sinks in,
i don't wanna miss you like this."
–come back, be here by T.S.