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They were sitting on the sofa side by side, as they did most evenings when there was no mission or mystery to attend to. William was balancing a book in his lap, a thick blanket wrapped around his legs, his hand finding a teacup on the nearby table as he read. Sherlock observed him quietly, the new violin strings he had been fiddling with forgotten as he admired how the fireplace’s flames lit the other’s face.
Even when he had first set eyes on him on the Noahtic, which now felt like a lifetime ago, Sherlock had noted that William possessed a sort of otherworldly beauty. Crimson red eyes framed with lashes like spun gold and hair that fell like a halo around his face. Back then, he had been illuminated by the glittering light from a chandelier, in a finely made black suit. He had taken one glance in Sherlock’s direction, spoken a few words, and everything Sherlock thought he had known about himself had gone up in smoke.
He had never experienced such instant, heady, interest in another person. An undeniable connection that even he himself could not explain. He had thought for the longest time the only way to explain it was that the man with the ruby eyes had to be his master criminal, his lord of crime. But then, even when his highest hopes had come true, that feeling hadn’t gone.
Instead it had grown into some foreign thing in his chest until he had been unable to deny it. It had taken leaping off a bridge after this man, William James Moriarty, the lord of crime, Liam… for Sherlock to realize what he had felt since the moment they met.
“Is there something on my face Mr. Holmes?”
Sherlock smiled, how foolish of him to think his observing would go unnoticed by the object of his thoughts. “Stop that.”
William closed his book and smiled innocently, “Stop what?”
“The Mr. Holmes nonsense, it isn’t funny anymore Liam.”
His knees knocked against William’s when the other man laughed, the thick blanket separating them. William had been doing that more lately, laughing freely. The sound did unspeakable things to Sherlock’s usually structured and organized mind.
“My apologies, but you make it so easy at times I truly can’t resist.”
Sherlock frowned slightly, “What does that mean?”
William hid his smile behind his teacup, “Nothing.”
His eyes tracked the movement as William sipped his tea, trying and failing to hide how intently he was watching the other man’s lips. Then a thought came to mind.
“Is that the new tea you bought?”
William, distracted, looked down at the cup and nodded, pushing it slightly in Sherlock’s direction. “Yes, the peppermint one, do you want to try?”
Sherlock grinned, setting the violin strings on the table as he moved, ignoring the teacup and positioning himself with both legs on either side of William’s blanketed lap. His partner blinked up at him slowly, blonde locks slightly mussed from the back of the sofa. Sherlock almost sighed at the view but instead said, as smug as possible, “Yeah, I’ll have a taste.”
William’s hands trailed up the back of his thighs slowly, hands coming to rest on Sherlock’s waist comfortably as he shook his head. “A year of living together, and still I haven’t managed to improve your manners.”
The way those red eyes were watching him made Sherlock feel like he was being eaten alive and they had barely touched each other. How it had taken him so long to give in to this gravitational pull between them the detective had no idea.
He leaned in until their lips were almost touching, William’s lidded eyes all Sherlock could see as he spoke slowly. “You love my bad manners.”
And that was all it took to break the master criminal’s restraint, a soft noise escaping William as he fit their mouths together, one hand quickly anchoring itself in Sherlock’s hair. Their lips knew each other well now but it didn’t matter, the feeling of swirling heat in Sherlock’s stomach was still the same as it had been the first time. He wrapped both hands around William’s rib cage, thumbs rubbing back and forth over the silk night shirt he wore. While one of his partner’s hands found his hair tie, tugging it free and pulling at the long strands once freed, the hand pushing Sherlock closer and tilting his mouth for better access.
Sherlock was in heaven, groaning when the hand that remained on his waist slid down to his thigh to bring him even closer. When he finally reached his limit, he broke away, sharing deep breaths with the man in front of him. Blue eyes did not leave red, and Sherlock brought both hands to William’s face, a thumb stroking the base of his cheek. Without thinking he breathed, “Beautiful.”
William had a soft look in his eyes, the scarring around one stretching a bit when he huffed a laugh. “The tea?”
“No, not the bloody tea Liam.”
Sherlock watched the teasing smile form on well kissed lips and leaned in again, kissing the other over and over. When his hands moved down to his partner’s chest, William placed a kiss on his jaw, his thumb brushing the lobe of Sherlock’s ear. Unbidden a soft gasp left him, the sound loud even with the crackling fire at their backs.
Never one to miss a single detail, William stopped for a moment at the noise, his lips going to Sherlock’s ear instead. “Sensitive?”
The whisper was absolutely sinful, William’s voice low and breathy in his ear and Sherlock, as he often did when it came to William, considered actually praying for a moment. He huffed a little instead, his tone breathless and bordering on pouty when he spoke. “You’re evil.”
Now it was William who sounded incomparably smug, “You love it detective.”
Sherlock made a frustrated noise, that was cheating, William knew he had a weak spot for that title in his unfairly seductive voice. It was as if he was asking Sherlock to catch him all over again. And it was that thought that had him leaning back onto the couch, pulling William on top of him as he went so that they ended up in a pile of blankets.
“Caught you.”
His hair was caught in between the cushions, but William was on top of him, laughing. And truly if there was a more beautiful sight in the world Sherlock had not seen it. When the laughter subsided William looked down at him, leaning closer until their noses touched and they were just silent, staring at one another.
The fondness he saw reflected in those crimson eyes filled Sherlock with a warmth that not even the best mystery could replicate. For once, as they gazed at each other, it was William who broke the silence softly. “Sherly?”
Sherlock had one arm wrapped around William’s waist but his free hand was currently brushing gold hair behind soft ears. “Hmm?”
“Do you want some of the tea now?”
The small smile on William’s face as he said it melted him and Sherlock laughed long and loud. Then he sighed, fingers still running through blonde strands, “Liam, I would drink any tea on the planet if you asked me too.”
Another soft smile, a sight that Sherlock once counted as rare, now a daily pleasure. William only looked at him fondly. “I know.”