Chapter Text
Sherlock and William had rejoined their respective groups after returning to London. The only difference between now, and the time before Sherlock caught the Lord of Crime, was that the two no longer worked at odds.
As such, William felt that he should be seeing a lot more of Sherlock than he currently was.
Yet, however much William wanted to see his lover, their jobs and assignments seemed to have other ideas. Sherlock had announced his return publicly, so, in addition to the work Billy, the United States Government, and the British Government had him do, Sherlock had quite a few private cases that he was accepting. The whole fiasco with the Lord of Crime had made Sherlock quite famous, leaving him with a never ending stream of requests sent to his mailbox.
Ms. Huddson was incredibly happy to be receiving the rent paid in full, on time, every month, and John Watson was happy to be running around after Sherlock again whilst collecting material for new books. It seemed that only William was disappointed with the current arrangement, he was incredibly displeased by how little he’d been able to see Sherlock.
At this point, the times William was able to see Sherlock was entirely dependent on when Sherlock had enough free time to visit him.
William had to tread carefully. There was always the risk that someone would recognize him as the former Lord of Crime, so everyone had reached an unspoken consensus. They all acted under the notion that William wouldn’t be able to do much of anything, publicly, for the time being.
That hadn’t stopped William from doing what little he could with the tight leash Albert and Louis kept him on. He understood they were afraid to lose him again, but he still felt it was a bit excessive.
Since William was, obviously, staying with his brothers, Sherlock had taken it upon himself to learn how to sneak into William’s room. It had evolved into something of a habit, happening whenever the desire struck Sherlock. Which, needless to say, was whenever Sherlock had free time. Now it was most days of the week that William found Sherlock cozied up on his bed or at his desk after the sun had set.
When Sherlock had first started sneaking in, it’d raised questions from the MI6 members who frequented the building. At this point, everybody but Louis knew about Sherlock’s late night visits to William’s room.
William had told Sherlock that he could come in using the front door, but Sherlock always insisted on using William's window. He’d never actually stated a specific reason, but William had a feeling that Sherlock was trying to avoid encountering Louis.
William had noticed Sherlock and Louis seemed to be quite touchy around each other. He could practically see the sparks fly when they were left alone together. William wasn’t entirely sure where the conflict had come from, and he didn’t intend to pursue the matter. Both Serlock and Louis knew William wouldn’t want to have to choose between his lover and his brother, so they did their best to get along. At least in appearances. William truly appreciated that they were trying their best.
Currently, Sherlock was seated at the desk in William’s room. His face was all scrunched up as he skimmed the same file for the third time. Earlier that evening Sherlock had snuck in, carrying quite an impressive stack of files, documents, and papers.
Louis had been the one to insist on moving a desk into William’s room back when William first moved in. He’d stated that he was concerned about William pushing himself. He knew that William had a habit of falling into deep sleeps and he was worried that falling into the Thames might have made William’s condition worse. Louis believed having a desk in his bedroom would make it so William could at least make it to the bed before he passed out.
While William appreciated the thought, he didn’t believe it was necessary. Still, he’d decided against telling his dear younger brother that this wasn’t exactly… practical.
It wasn’t until Sherlock started visiting that William had begun to appreciate the desk. Being as busy as he was, it wasn’t uncommon for Sherlock to bring his work with him when he dropped by. Having the desk provided Sherlock a comfortable place to work.
William found it vaguely ironic that Sherlock ended up being the one who used the desk Louis got for him the most, but William didn’t plan to tell either of them.
William had offered his help, when Sherlock snuck in earlier hat evening, and Sherlock had accepted it, which led to their current positions: Sherlock at the desk and William sitting opposite in a chair he’d pulled from the wall. William was looking over a separate case from Sherlock. He hoped his help would lessen Sherlock’s load, especially since his lover looked so tired.
It was a bit strange to see Sherlock’s behaviour become so mellow. Sherlock always had a big personality, getting excited and never being afraid to make sure the entire room knew it.
William glanced over the top of his papers, looking Sherlock over once more. Sherlock didn’t just look tired, he looked absolutely exhausted.
William’s expression grew complicated.
The man was nodding off. Sherlock’s eyes had slightly sunken in, highlighting the dark circles sitting under them. It vaguely reminded William of a racoon, though William felt Sherlock was far cuter than any carnivora. Every few seconds, Sherlock would squeeze his eyes shut and let out a huff as if the action would stop his upper eyelid from sticking to the lower one like magnets. One of Sherlock’s elbows was perched on the edge of the desk while Sherlock cradled his chin in his hand. Every few moments Sherlock’s face would slip from his palm as his body tried to shut down and rest.
There were a few times when William had been interrupted by Sherlock when he was trying to work. Sherlock would insist William needed a break, and he’d always do something unorthodox to coax William into resting.
Seeing Sherlock about to pass out, but still trying to push through, made William wonder if this was how Sherlock felt when he stepped in to push William to rest. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, watching Sherlock overwork himself, William felt as if he’d eaten something bitter.
If William weren’t so concerned with Sherlock’s wellbeing, he would have found his lover’s drowsiness quite amusing. Right now, however, all he wanted to do was wrap Sherlock up in a blanket and hold him while he slept.
Sherlock’s face made fondness bubble from William’s heart. It was often that William felt as if he were drunk on the love he felt for Sherlock. It was intense and suffocating. William could almost drown in it. He sighed, setting the papers down. As much as William wanted to help Sherlock finish his work, William likely wouldn’t be able to get anything else done that night. Especially not with his lover in such a state before him.
Typically, when there was a change in his surroundings, Sherlock would pick up on it right away. The fact that Sherlock hadn’t so much as twitched when William sighed proved that it was, indeed, time for bed.
William gathered the documents, and pushed them to the corner of the desk. He was careful to stay quiet. Walking lightly as he made his way to the adjacent bathroom, intending to run a bath. William found himself feeling incredibly grateful that Louis had allowed Von Herder to fiddle around with the building. If he hadn’t, the building wouldn’t have running water, and William would have had to heat water and fill the tub by hand.
Sherlock had been out investigating a crime scene earlier in the day, he’d run around to quite a few locations. As he climbed through William’s window, Sherlock had been complaining about how much he needed a bath. He’d refused to even hug William before he cleaned himself, but hadn’t found the time to actually bathe amidst his work. Since Sherlock wanted a bath so badly, William couldn’t simply take Sherlock straight to bed.
These were the thoughts running through William’s head as he removed his jacket, hanging it on the clothing rack in the corner of the bathroom and rolling up his sleeves. The faucet was rather noisy when he turned it, but there was nothing he could do about it so he just hoped Sherlock would sleep through it. William kept one hand under the water to make sure that the temperature was right as the tub filled. Once done, William shook his hands off, drying them with a hand towel before removing his tie and throwing it over his jacket on the rack. He didn’t want the water to ruin it if he got splashed.
Returning to the main room, Sherlock was right where William had left him. He’d somehow figured out how to stay sitting upright at the desk as he slept.
William’s expression softened. Looking at Sherlock, William felt, once again, that he was truly lucky to have Sherlock in his life. He stopped trying to stay quiet as he approached Sherlock’s side.
“Sherly,” Liam called gently, hoping not to startle Sherlock awake. They both suffered from nightmares, at times, so it was best to be careful. “Sherly, wake up.”
“..mm?” Sherlock hummed in response, not quite aware of himself yet. Now sure he wouldn’t scare Sherlock, William wrapped his arms around his lover. His left arm slid smoothly under Sherlock’s knees, while his right arm supported Sherlock’s from his back.
It didn’t take much effort to lift Sherlock, William remained diligent in practicing his martial arts, after all.
“...iam?” Sherlock slurred as he shifted a little against William’s chest.
“Right here, Sherly,” William hummed, adjusting his grip in response to Sherlock’s movement. The distance from William’s desk to the bathroom was quite short. Practically no time had passed before William was gently setting Sherlock down on the toilet.
“What’re you doin’?” Sherlock blinked, a bit more focus had returned to his eyes.
“I’m getting you ready for bed, you can go back to sleep.” William smiled, a hint of laughter in his eyes at how tepid his love had become. He loved Sherlock in all that he was, but this had proved to be a little bit of a treat. It was a side of Sherlock that William didn’t get to see often, and it was certainly cute.
When he least expected it, William found himself falling in love with Sherlock all over again. It seemed to happen quite often. Once again, William felt that he was truly very lucky to be with Sherlock.
William was quick with Sherlock’s clothes. He supported Sherlock as he undid the buttons to his shirt, sliding it off at the same time as his jacket. Both were then placed on the clothing rack beside William’s own jacket and tie.
Sherlock shivered as the cool air hit his bare chest, providing him a bit more lucidity. He looked around in confusion at first, before his eyes shone with recognition. He quickly understood the situation when he saw the steaming tub behind William.
Now that Sherlock was a bit more alert, William felt comfortable letting Sherlock balance on his own. With both hands free, Sherlock’s belt was next to go, followed by his socks and shoes.
“Bathing me, are we?” Sherlock teased, voice a tad scratchy from having just woken up.
“Indeed,” William smiled, undoing the clasp on Sherlock’s pants and removing them, along with Sherlock’s underpants, in one go. “Feel free to relax, Sherly, I’ll take very good care of you.”
“Where have I heard that line before?” Sherlock snorted.
William hummed but made no further comment about Sherlock’s dirty joke. Instead, he directly hooked his arms under Sherlock’s rear as he hoisted Sherlock with a little more force, and speed, than necessary.
Sherlock exclaimed in surprise, not thinking as he wrapped his arms tightly around William’s neck. Having his balance thrown off so dramatically, even if he’d expected some sort of retaliation, Sherlock was caught off guard.
William’s quiet laughter sounded by Sherlock’s ear.
Sherlock’s mouth twitched in annoyance. He scoffed in a poor attempt to salvage his pride, ignoring the smug look on William’s face. Others wouldn’t recognize William’s expression as one of gloating, but Sherlock wasn’t “others.” What would look like a kind smile to others, Sherlock recognized as a pleased smirk. It was clear that William was incredibly satisfied with Sherlock’s reaction.
“Go easy, will you? I thought you were taking good care of me.” Sherlock said with a resentful frown.
William chuckled softly, Sherlock could feel the vibration of William’s voice against him. The sound made Sherlock melt. Even if he’d wanted to give William a hard time about teasing him, Sherlock didn’t have it in him to stay mad at William.
“Fine. Just be gentle.” Sherlock grumbled, crossing his arms, trusting William not to drop him. He was too tired to care that he had been the first to concede in their unspoken argument.
William smiled as he gently lowered Sherlock into the heated water. Although he’d rolled up his sleeves, William’s cuffs still ended up getting wet as he pulled his arms back from around Sherlock. Sherlock’s eyes followed the wet cloth as it pressed against William’s arms. The water had made it transparent, revealing William’s pale skin.
“Oi, Liam-”
“Shh.” William hushed Sherlock, “Let me worry about it.”
Sherlock raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue further. Instead, he observed as William reached for the soap. The familiar smell reached Sherlock’s nose before he even saw it. They’d occupied each others’ spaces so often they’d long gotten used to smelling like the other from time to time.
William removed the tie holding Sherlock’s long hair in place, pocketing it. Sherlock would likely just grab a different one from William’s desk later. Quite the collection had accumulated in one of the drawers. William’s hands worked their way through the strands, pressing firmly on Sherlock’s scalp. The way Sherlock leaned back into William’s fingers, accompanied by a contented sigh, told William that he was doing something right.
The memory of their first meeting was brought to mind. William had known the instant he met Sherlock, that the man would change his life. But, looking back, William had underestimated just how profound Sherlock’s impact on him would be. William pinched the soft locks between his fingers, Sherlock’s hair had grown quite a bit longer since that first meeting.
William kept one hand in Sherlock’s hair, rubbing into the area where the hair tie usually held Sherlock's ponytail in place. Sherlock seemed to really like being massaged there, William noted.
He pressed down on Sherlock’s forehead, making the brunette look up. William didn’t want water splashing on Sherlock’s face, and making Sherlock uncomfortable. William used his free hand to reach into the water, bringing a handful up and over Sherlock’s head.
It took a bit of time, with only one hand, but eventually William was able to thoroughly soak Sherlock’s hair. At first, Sherlock’s hair had tangled around William’s hand, locking it in place against Sherlock’s head after massaging him. But, after wetting it enough, the weight from the water undid the tangles naturally. Now, William’s fingers faced no obstruction as he ran them through the length of Sherlock’s mane, freeing them from Sherlock’s head.
A sound akin to a while escaped Sherlock when William’s hand left. Sherlock must have been too tired to realize. And, while William managed to hold back a chuckle, he couldn’t help but respond with a smile.
His Sherlock was really too lovely.
“Just a minute.” Willaim promised while reaching for the soap, careful not to let it slip through his wet hands.
When William looked back over, he found Sherlock watching him.
“Something wrong?” William asked, grabbing Sherlock’s head and making him face down, towards the water. Sherlock’s wide, tired eyes made William want to bully him. Affectionately, of course.
“Nothing, just thinking about how beautiful you are.” Sherlock chuckled.
“Is that so?” William smiled. Sherlock was always throwing curve balls at him. Now he wanted to kiss the man instead of bullying him. William dipped the bar of soap into the bath briefly, getting the bar wet before placing it onto the back of Sherlock’s head.
“I apologise in advance for my lack of skill, Sherly. Please stay still for me.” William chimed.
Sherlock’s hair was already wet, so it didn’t take long for bubbles to form atop the black locks. William skillfully lathered the soap all throughout Sherlock’s mane, taking his time. Once Sherlock’s hair was fully coated in a layer of soap, William finally set the bar to the side.
Instead of promptly washing the soap away, however, he brought his hands back to Sherlock’s head.
With the soaps added lubrication, William’s hands could glide through Sherlock’s hair with even greater ease than before.
The bubbles continued to build up as William pressed his fingertips into Sherlock’s roots, rubbing circles and massaging all the way from Sherlock’s forehead to the base of his skull.
The little sounds of pleasure that escaped Sherlock encouraged William as he washed his lover’s hair. William was more than happy to spoil Sherlock in any way he could. He’d made a mental note of how much Sherlock seemed to enjoy being massaged. If he’d known Sherlock liked it so much, he would have done it sooner.
Eventually though, William couldn’t continue. Both Sherlock’s hair and William’s hands had become completely covered in soap, to the point where you couldn’t even see the original black color of Sherlock’s hair from beneath the suds.
It was only then that William removed his hands. The mass of bubbles looked quite silly on Sherlock’s head. William didn’t comment, but he did commit the image to memory.
He dipped his hands into the bath, rinsing the soap from them, before bringing them to Sherlock’s chin and angling the man’s face up once again.
William was standing above Sherlock. Making Sherlock look up caused their eyes to lock on to one another. Sherlock’s gaze was lazy, his pupils were slightly dilated. They’d glazed over slightly too. It was only then that William realized how quiet Sherlock had been. It was probably taking everything in him to stay awake.
Not that William needed him to try and stay up.
William leaned over a bit more, pressing his lips against Sherlock’s gently.
“Sherly,” William said softly when he pulled away, “You can sleep, I told you I’d take care of it.”
Sherlock let out a few dry laughs, his breath warm when it reached William’s face. Sherlock lazily raised his arms up and out of the water, cupping Willaim’s cheeks. With William trapped in place, he pulled down, bringing William’s lips back onto his own.
“Flirt.” Sherlock mused into their kiss. He reached up even further, and pulled the knot holding William’s eyepatch in place. He threw the eyepatch off to the side, too tired to care where it ended up. William had noticed this little habit back when they’d lived together in New York. It seemed that Sherlock preferred seeing William’s full face whenever they were intimate with one another.
They continued to stay with their lips pressed together for a minute or two. Neither William nor Sherlock knew how much time passed. Neither of them cared.
It was only when the water from Sherlock’s hands grew cold on William’s face that Sherlock pulled back. He leaned one elbow against the side of the tub, resting his face on his palm. The other was absentmindedly dropped back into the water to rest on Sherlock’s lap.
With a smile on his face, William continued washing Sherlock. He angled Sherlock’s face up once more, so that the soap wouldn’t get into his eyes as William washed the rest of the soap from his hair.
William worked as quickly as he could. He rid the rest of the soap from Sherlock’s hair, and wet the soap bar once more. William grabbed a clean washcloth from the side of the room, and spread soap on it before putting the soap away in its original spot.
Sherlock was really unable to stay awake any longer, so William didn’t dally as he scrubbed Sherlock down. William had ended up soaked in the process, but he couldn’t find it in himself to mind when Sherlock looked so pleased.
Luckily, the floor was still mostly dry, which meant cleaning up wouldn’t be too difficult.
William decided on grabbing multiple towels from the closet. He laid one down on the ground and put the rest to the side.
Since his clothes were already wet, he didn’t hesitate when reaching into the bath to pull Sherlock out. William gently set him down on the towel, leaning Sherlock’s back against the outside side of the tub. A shiver ran Sherlock at the change in temperature, the hair on his arms and legs standing up as the cold gave him goosebumps.
William smiled again, and wrapped one of the towels he’d set to the side snuggly around Sherlock.
This time, the change in temperature hadn’t been enough to wake Sherlock. He blinked in slight confusion before settling back into his dreams. Sherlock wouldn’t be waking any time soon. William felt a tad bit touched that Sherlock felt safe enough to let down his guard to such an extent in his presence. If Sherlock truly felt he needed to stay awake, then nothing but force would be able to knock him unconscious.
William took a seat on the floor, next to Sherlock, and laid the remaining towel in his lap before pulling Sherlock over. He adjusted the other man so his head was settled comfortably in William’s lap.
There was a technique Mr. Bonde had once shown William for drying long hair. It was a party trick he’d used, and later divulged the secret to when William had asked. Bonde had specifically said that William should feel lucky that he was willing to share such a sought after technique.
With his excellent memory, William got the hang of it rather quickly. He was incredibly surprised to see this technique was as great as Bond had said it was. Sherlock’s hair was practically dry after only a few moments.
Typically, after Sherlock bathed, it took at least an hour for his hair to dry to this extent on its own. William knew because Sherlock would always wet the pillow with his hair when coming to bed after washing.
Maybe William would drop the hint that Sherlock should go seek Bond out for his secret hair technique once Sherlock woke up. William wasn’t one to spill others’ secrets himself, unless the situation called for it.
William got up with Sherlock in his arms. He carried his lover to the bed and laid Sherlock down before grabbing a set of pajamas from the dresser. Dressing Sherlock was fairly easy, Sherlock was now dead to the world and let William do as he pleased.
It was only after William tucked Sherlock into the bed that he returned to the bathroom and set to work on cleaning up.
The clock struck twelve when William finally climbed into bed beside Sherlock.