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On a secluded park bench under a tree in an unknown land, two men could be seen facing the setting sun. Both of them seemed to have an aura of extraordinary intelligence about them. In any case, they seemed to be preoccupied in a space of their own, so it was best not to interrupt them.
...
This time, it was Sherlock who had insisted on hanging out together. Well, both of them were free this weekend, so why not. William quite liked their time together, so despite sensing that this time, the man didn't simply want to hang out for the sake of hanging out, he still accepted his invitation without so much as a speck of hesitation.
It was a pleasant Saturday. The two had eaten breakfast together, watched a movie in the theatre and went grocery shopping.
Just those mundane things that normal people did; William never thought he would ever have a chance to enjoy these, let alone doing so together with his favourite person.
This was what the blond had meant when he said that they could have been friends in another life. Only, the other party was too impatient for another life and wanted to make it a reality in this one.
…
When the day had almost come to a close, they ended up walking into the park they occasionally met at, and occupied an empty bench in a less frequented area with a good view of the sun that was almost beginning to set.
One could see the shore of a lake on one side, but the local ducks were all hurdled together to sleep on the far end.
It was quiet, aside from the occasional person walking by on the stone track closest to them, and a few birds on the trees around them.
William had noticed that Sherlock had a habit of presenting himself rather casually like some men do when a formal posture isn't necessary, resting his arm atop the back-rest of the bench, around the other guy's shoulder. Though William found this kind of casual posture not something he’d personally indulge in ever, it felt somewhat comforting when Sherlock did it. It had the same effect on him as the lingering smell of cigarettes on the detective, that of a subtle enveloping presence.
Sherlock on the other hand, got momentarily caught up in the way the golden sunlight fell on the blond’s face. It somehow made him shine more beautifully than he normally did, if that was even possible. Those red eyes never did shy away from anything, no matter how extreme a challenge was. And those eyes were presently anticipating a conversation from him. Well, who was he to deny him that; he himself was the one who insinuated the need for a conversation.
"Say... Liam," Sherlock began, as they took in the sunset in a sense of mutual calm and serenity, "if we were on a romantic date, now would be the perfect time for a kiss."
William didn't immediately reply. He'd rather take in the scenery a little more.
A lark sang on a nearby tree, breaking the silence.
He wasn't exactly stalling. Silence could be an answer on its own, and with Sherlock, the only one who could understand him so well, words weren't always necessary either.
Sherlock might have agreed with that sentiment. He chuckled and continued as if those crimson eyes had already given him an answer. "You are a funny one. You consider this a date too. But you will not admit that. There must be something holding you back. Or did I read you wrong?"
William smiled. He wished it were that simple. He truly did. It put him in a defensive mood.
He finally spoke up, habitually provocatively, "Is that how you think of this? I had no idea."
Sherlock shrugged. He wasn't going to be provoked today.
"That's upto you. I'm fine either way."
Maybe.
The lark sang again. The sun was halfway down.
William seemed to make up his mind about something. It was perhaps the right time to address that.
"In that case," the blond responded belatedly, "there is something you should know about me first."
Sherlock leaned forward. Liam’s tone told him whatever was coming next was important.
"In the past, I have had trouble understanding romantic feelings.” William decidedly stared at the horizon as he began speaking. It was better that way. Looking at the other's face now could make him lose the flow.
“I understand that it is a thing people feel; that it is different from familial and platonic love, and the way it affects people's judgements and decisions. Yet, I tend to find myself unable to empathise with them, or experience such a feeling myself."
He could feel the concentrated attention Sherlock was paying him almost pierce through him from the edge of his field of vision.
“Also,” William added quickly, “the same is true for sexual desires that often accompany romantic feelings.”
A slight wind blew. The sun was almost down.
"I see," Sherlock responded in a calm voice, as he tried to remove his arm from around the other man's shoulder, "I was acting under the impression that we have been flirting with each other for a while now. If that was a misunderstanding, I didn't mean to impose on you."
That's not it.
William stopped him from doing so, indicating that he was fine with Sherlock's arm around him.
The detective sighed helplessly, "...Yet I cannot help but think that you've been giving me mixed signals. And it's not just today. That's partly the reason I insisted on hanging out with you today. Please explain yourself."
Some things were simply beyond the scope of deduction and mind reading. It was one of those things.
William felt as if he lost in a game of tag. He couldn't classify how he felt about Sherlock. It was true that he often ended up retorting or provoking him in a way that would sound like he was flirting with Sherlock, and he couldn't entirely claim that he didn't mean it. He did so hoping to hear his reply or retort, whichever it happened to be, and Sherlock often flirted back. He would go so far as to say that he even looked forward to these playful exchanges.
But that didn't have to mean he liked him in that sense. What did it mean to like someone anyway? Emotional connection? Physical desire? Infatuation of sorts?
William sighed.
"I find myself at a loss about this situation; about us. I consider myself adequately eloquent in general, but for this, words elude me."
Sherlock hummed, "I see. Take your time. I just want to understand your stance better, and treat you as you wish to be treated."
Liar. If that were true, you'd have killed me when I wished to die by your hands. Instead, we are both alive and in this country far from home.
William thought that, but his heart stirred. He had no doubt he loved the man. But no matter how hard he thought, he couldn't put a label on his feelings for Sherlock. If he really had to put the truth into words and provide a description instead...
"My attachment to you is somewhat different from familial love. It is also different from how I valued my subordinates or those who came before me and assumed the role of a teacher or a role model..."
William fell silent in contemplation. Sherlock waited without a sense of hurry. Afterall, now, they had all the time in the world.
William had always been mature for his age. He had a better understanding of the world around him and often ended up guiding his peers at the orphanage. No. More like, he never had a true peer in the first place. That is, until this fellow showed up in his life.
He continued, "I see you, and probably only you as an equal." This was a bold declaration. But one that they both already knew.
No, that's not all there is to it.
"I could call you my dear friend and move on with my day, but that might not be the case either. I am not sure. And this is-"
William found his throat a little dry. He briefly wondered why that was so. Nervousness? Or did he really not drink enough water?
"It's the first time I have felt this way, so I'm curious as to what exactly it is that I feel for you. It could turn out to be either platonic or romantic. I don't really have a reference to measure this against."
William took a breath and continued thoughtfully, "But I also don't have a desire to get physical with you so I'm not sure if it's a good idea to-"
"Woah there, easy, easy! Nobody is asking to get physical so soon!" Sherlock clarified, slightly flustered at the speed of his contemplation. Had Liam wanted that sort of relationship, it wasn't completely off the table for Sherlock, but even in that case it was too soon to even think about it.
"I know that, it's just, it's less to do with time. It's possible that I might not feel that sort of desire at all, like maybe never. If we were to get involved, you might eventually start expecting things from me that I might not be able to give you. Are you really okay with that?"
Is Liam hesitating because he is being considerate of my feelings?
William looked down. "I'm sorry. I don't even know if I can take things further, yet I keep provoking you in ways which, I am well aware, count as flirting. You shouldn't have to deal with this nonsense from me."
Sherlock's face looked like he understood a little more now, but that his original intent could still adjust with this.
They seemed to have similar thoughts on the matter. Each wanted to see where this could go, yet neither wished to lose the other over something like this, should things not work out.
The detective carefully arranged his words. Any misunderstandings here could exacerbate in the future.
Then he put forth his view on the matter, "Listen. I like you, but like I said, I'm okay with even just staying friends, and I also don't mind getting romantically, or even physically involved with you, had you wished to do so, eventually."
William's eyes narrowed unnoticeably. Was this a rejection? Asking him to choose one thing perhaps? No, that wasn't it.
"But you mean more to me than such labels. I'm just putting the options out in the open. If you want to explore the boundary of what you want without committing to a concrete label, we can do that as well. I'm just as curious as you about us, and what this can become."
William's eyes shone. Even after everything they'd been through so far, together and apart, it sometimes still took him off guard how well Sherlock understood him.
"But the last thing I want is to lose our friendship over this. So you need to be clear about what kind of gestures you're okay with. I want to take initiative too sometimes, as long as it is within the bounds of what you're okay with."
"We can hold hands." The blond spoke.
...it was obvious that he could put an arm around him to hold him like they currently were. For one, it wasn't exclusively a romantic gesture, and besides, it was Liam who stopped him from removing the arm in the first place.
Adorable.
"Exchanging gifts?" Sherlock tried.
"Sure." William smiled. I could do that, but what gifts could possibly compare to your existence by my side?
"Hmm." Sherlock noted, then wondered aloud, "What about kissing?"
Okay, now that was going into dubious territory. William knew that Sherlock wasn't trying to push the boundaries or put pressure on him. Rather, it was just a question to better assess said boundaries.
"Not yet," he answered honestly.
Not yet. It wasn't a no. It might be a future yes or a future no. The answer gave him a reference to rely on rather than worry Sherlock with its implied uncertainty. For now, he was content just to hold the one he cherished in his arms.
The sun had set, yet the clouds were still painted in warm hues.
"Got it. Anything else?"
William felt spoiled. He didn't particularly mind that feeling. Not when this man was the one treating him like this. With Sherlock, he felt like he belonged. Like he was ...safe.
"Maybe..."
Liam tentatively leaned on his shoulder.
"...you can do this too sometimes."
Sherlock was momentarily dazed; as if a cat had decided to take a nap on his lap.
After a momentary pause, Sherlock pulled him a little closer with his arm around him to make the tentative position a little more comfortable for both. William relaxed.
Maybe it was the warmth he craved. He wasn't sure.
The lark previously perching on the tree behind them seemed to have taken flight at some point. It was relatively quiet.
His heart wasn't beating like crazy or anything. It just felt ...normal, if anything. Cozy perhaps. He didn't feel like getting up just yet.
A sanctuary.
The word randomly passed by William's mind. It felt oddly fitting. Perhaps, Sherlock was his sanctuary. The one place where he could simply be himself and not worry about anything or anyone else. To be truly understood and accepted for the entirety of who he was.
But it felt strange to only take and not give back. What could Sherlock possibly hope to achieve by being this adjusting towards him?
The sky had turned from red to shades of pink and purple.
"Are you really okay with such a relationship? It seems like I have an unfair advantage..."
Sherlock lightly flicked him, retorting, "Ask that again and I'm getting up."
...without showing any intention of wanting to get up.
William chuckled.
"Liar.”