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William woke to the smell of tobacco smoke permeating through the air. It was a rare thing, even with his occasionally narcoleptic tendencies, to sleep somewhere unknown. But well, with him and Sherlock one thing had led to another and the two of them had ended up in a small inn just outside London.
William had told his associates that he was going off to do some reconnaissance, and Sherlock had told John (and by extension, Miss Hudson) that he was off on a jaunt to go investigate a lead for a case.
While William's associates had let him go without much questioning, apart from inquiring as to whether or not they should be coming for safety purposes, John was far more interrogative. Despite his friend's inquisitiveness however, the plan had still progressed.
They'd arranged it through quiet, private meetings in small secluded nooks and crannies of London, whispers exchanged through pressed lips as they'd felt the curves, the divots, the lives lived in the other's body.
The two of them had fallen into each other's arms the second they'd gotten into the room, coats thrown (Sherlock) and hung (William) and general undressing had occurred until the two were gasping and panting, William sat on Sherlock's thighs with both of his hands on the headboard, lip between his teeth, and Sherlock groaning out his name over and over again as the blond moved on top of him.
But that was last night.
This was this morning.
William rolled over to see Sherlock idly flicking through a book, cigarette between his lips, blowing out clouds of smoke.
He said nothing for a moment, just looking up at the dark haired man. He admired the curve of Sherlock's brow as he contemplated the book, the strength of his arms evident as he moved minutely, turning the pages.
William moved closer, resting his head on Sherlock's hip, wrapping an arm over his waist, nuzzling his face into his side. Sherlock looked down at him, placing the book on the nightstand and stubbing out his cigarette.
Sherlock raised one arm to smooth over William's hair. "Hello there, you," he murmured. "I don't think I've ever seen you sleep for so long. Normally you're up before I am. I have to admit, I was surprised to see you still so fast asleep when I woke up."
William hummed softly, blinking slowly. When there was no case to attend to, no issues with the manor that were pressing, no papers to mark, William found himself being able to slowly creep back into wakefulness, as opposed to jerking up with a start.
He slowly raised the arm draped over Sherlock's waist and started to pull lightly on his shoulder, urging him to lay down from where he was still sat up against the sturdy wooden bedframe. Sherlock grinned as he slipped fully back under the sheets, wrapping an arm around William's waist, adjusting himself on the pillow so that he could look at the blond more easily.
William stared back at him with half lidded eyes. The evidence of their lovemaking was still evident over his body - teeth indents on his shoulder, a love mark on the column of his throat, thin scratch lines that Sherlock could feel along his hips when he rested his hands on them. Whenever the blond man breathed, the dark marks on his throat seemed to call to Sherlock like a siren, urging him to suck more marks onto William's flesh.
Sherlock was pretty sure that he was marked up by the man as well. His nipples still felt raw from where William had teased them so much that he'd managed to orgasm completely untouched.
He tightened his hold on the blond marginally, keeping him pleasantly close. The silence between them was full, not of things unsaid, but with so many feelings that it was difficult for either one of them to begin to fully articulate it.
Sherlock moved his hand slowly up and down William's back gently, stroking the man's spine. The blond moved closer to Sherlock, adjusting himself to rest his head under Sherlock's chin, wrapping an arm around Sherlock's torso.
Sherlock smirked as he looked down at William. "Aw, Liam. You're such a cuddlebug." The blond looked up at him with lidded eyes. "I'm not the one who was begging me to touch him last night, Sherlock."
The dark haired man let out a mockingly shocked gasp.
"Liam! You're so harsh." He moved a hand up to brush a lock of hair away from William's face. He leaned down and gently pecked a kiss onto the other man's face. "Besides," he added, leaning back. "I seem to remember you were the one who started kissing me when we got into the room last night."
William shrugged, rolling his shoulders, beginning to wake up fully. Sherlock could tell that William was fully awake when he looked at him with that devilish look in his eyes that he lost when he was tired.
"Semantics, Sherlock." The two lay there for a long moment, the sound of birds tweeting outside the only thing interrupting the silence. "You know," Sherlock said with a start, propping himself up onto his elbow and looking down at William. "You said that you wanted to try that specialty tea house in Warwickshire. The Aviary Cafe, wasn't it? We could make a trip out of it. After this we could go up there. I'm sure that the innkeep knows someone with a horse and carriage."
William smiled. "And who would be paying for that, Sherlock?" The dark haired man blushed and looked at everything but him. "I'd pay you back for it," he mumbled. William tutted and playfully batted his arm. "I'd be happy to pay for it."
Sherlock tched sarcastically and nodded, acquiescing. "Fine. As long as our relationship doesn't turn into one like one of those that strange old coots have with suspiciously young men."
The blond snorted. "I can't say that that's in the cards for me." The dark haired man let out a dramatic sigh of relief, causing William to snort. William paused briefly, then saying "Thank you for remembering the name of the cafe."
Sherlock looked at him, confused. "Of course I remember it. I'm a detective, you know? I'd be a pretty terrible one if I forgot the little pieces of information mentioned by those around me." William tutted and lightly whacked his arm, causing Sherlock to melodramatically cry out in pain, only for William to swat him again to shut him up.
The two lay there for a longer moment before Sherlock spoke again. "I didn't think I'd ever get to experience this, you know. I…I must admit, though. I'm very glad that I've been able to."
William was quiet, breathing slowly in response. Sherlock started to feel antsy at the lack of response, the niggling, creeping feeling of insecurity crawling up his spine despite the tenderness the two of them were sharing. He was about to take back what he'd said, make light of it-
"-I am too, Sherlock."
The statement was almost silently uttered - but was resolute. Sherlock's eyes widened slightly. It wasn't like he expected William to deny his feelings, but it was still a little shocking to hear the blonde admit it out loud. Not that he was complaining though.
The tenderness of the moment was broken by Sherlock throwing his head back and letting a full, happy laugh. William quirked his eyebrow, unsure of what exactly had brought on this show of sudden mirth, and was taken aback when Sherlock rolled him onto his back, kneeling on top of him as he moved, hands firmly planted on both sides of William's head.
William placed his hands on Sherlock's chest, before they trailed up to cup Sherlock's face as the dark haired man leaned down and kissed him hard on the lips.
The two broke apart briefly to breathe, Sherlock gasping for air slightly but grinning as he looked down at William. "You're gorgeous."
William pulled him down and closer once more, tangling one hand into Sherlock's hair and kissing him back harder, more vigorously, more passionately, until he flipped the dark haired man beneath him, pinning his hands above his head.
"Damn, Liam," Sherlock said, panting. "I knew that you were on my level of thinking, but I didn't know that you were this strong." William rolled his eyes. Sherlock continued. "Who knew that Professor Moriarty, the acclaimed genius, liked to manhandle genius detectives?"
William scoffed, tossing his head to the side to move his hair out of his face. "Don't flatter yourself too much, Sherlock." "Why not, Liam? It's so much fun to see you riled up like this-mmph!" This time it was William leaning down to kiss him, his back arching as he did so.
"Maybe the genius detective can figure out how to get out of this one, then." Sherlock looked up at him, confused, until he tried to move his hands to grab William's hips and found his hands bound.
"Bastard, Liam, untie me-"
The blond swung himself off of where he was perched and sauntered into the small ensuite bathroom. "Catch me if you can, Mr Holmes."
(Sherlock then proceeded to untie himself, drag William into the shower where they cleaned off together (amongst other things), and then managed to secure a carriage to go to the Aviary Cafe in Leamington Spa, Warwickshire, after a few days).