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William looked devilish. The sense of propriety that was typical of the Moriarty household seemed to fly out the window when it was just the two of them. His dark blue yukata hung dangerously open, revealing a pale chest. He was so thin his bones left indents on his flesh like they threatened to push through his skin painfully. One pull on his obi , and the whole garment would fall off. Sherlock was almost tempted to cut the offending sash with his sword.
He lay on his side on the engawa , resting his head on the palm of his slender hand. His face always had painted on an expression of amusement - not mocking, just mischievous. His blonde hair looked darker under the shade, but Sherlock knew that if he were to join him in the garden, it would look golden under the afternoon sun.
Sherlock watched him from the corner of his eye. The samurai moved around slowly, practising his moves with precision. Lord Moriarty hadn't said a word since he came out to watch him practise, and Sherlock wasn't sure if he should address him.
Ever since he had come to serve the Moriarty family, the second oldest son had been a thorn in his side. He was clever, perhaps the smartest person Sherlock had ever met. His wit and good looks made him practically irresistible, not just to Sherlock, but to pretty much everyone else. Male and female servants always straightened their backs and fixed their hair whenever he was around. Sherlock had trained to endure all sorts of physical and mental torment, but nothing had prepared him to deal with the cherry-eyed beauty.
A bead of sweat dripped down his neck, the afternoon soon's unrelenting abuse was getting to him. His own yukata was relaxed to let the air in, but the predatory look set on his collar bones made him want to pull it tighter.
William shuffled, sitting with his legs hanging off the wooden platform, his arms supporting him from behind him. He spread his legs just so slightly, and Sherlock almost tripped. William smiled, squinting his eyes from the harsh light.
Sherlock started on the next move, his sword moving in tangent with his body. His hand gripped the hilt, swinging it upwards and then downwards. He shifted on his feet, turning his waist and pointed the sword in William's direction. The tip of the weapon overlapped with his left eye, cutting the cherry in half. William pursed his lips, feline playfulness evident on his face.
"You're good with that sword, Mr Holmes."
William finally made the first move. This was how their interactions usually went, William always going first. As the young master of the house, he controlled the rules of their game. It wasn't like they were doing anything clandestine, in fact, the most scandalous thing they did was stare at each other from across the room during household meetings. Sherlock knew it was a game of cat and mouse where he was the mouse, but his pride as a samurai often forbade him from looking away, even if it was improper. Though, sometimes, William's younger brother would glare at him, and Sherlock would be forced to yield.
"I've been practising for a long time, my Lord."
His words were subservient, but his tone was impish.
"Is that so?"
William gathered his geta , placing them on the grassy ground before hopping off the platform and putting them on. Sherlock looked on, unmoving, trying not to scare the cardinal that left its perch. He would hate for him to fly away.
William didn't bother fixing his yukata , and let it hang loose as he walked. It hung precariously, threatening to expose his right shoulder to the scorching sun. Sherlock could imagine how it would redden under the assault.
As the other man came closer, the samurai avoided looking at his exposed chest lest he offend him. Part of him knew William was doing it on purpose. He wanted him to look, to let his desire out and peak at the perky buds. It was next level psychological warfare in Sherlock's opinion.
William stretched out his hand, eyes on the sword. Sherlock bowed and carefully transferred the weapon to his hand, keeping a close eye on it, afraid William would hurt himself. The young lord turned it over carefully, inspecting it. He traced the hilt with his fingers, dipping the pad of his index finger into every indent, and Sherlock swallowed around nothing.
"It's a very pretty sword."
His compliment was genuine, and so was the tilt in his lips. Sherlock was charmed, having to gather his wits before he made a fool of himself in front of his benefactor.
He bowed again, "Thank you, my Lord."
William stared at his face openly, unapologetic as usual. He returned the sword, turning back around to return to his perch. Sherlock was disappointed, the sword was heavy in his hand.
The young lord paused, loosened his obi and let his robes fall to the ground. Throwing one look behind him, he climbed the engawa and entered his room.
Sherlock was stunned, and it took him a couple of seconds before he understood what had just happened. A laugh came from behind the closed shoji screens, pulling him forward like a siren's song. Ever the responsible man, he had half a mind to pick the clothing on the floor, lest they alert someone to William's indiscretion. Above all, it was his job to preserve the household's reputation, even if the second son was out to get him.
He climbed the engawa , clumsily discarding his shoes on the grass, and opened the sliding door with more force than he should have. There he was, the nymph with the crimson eyes, calling out to him. William stood in the middle of the vacant room, and even though he was nude, his head was held high, and his eyes remained as cool as they were when he addressed polite society.
Sherlock closed the door, dropping William's garments at his feet, and with them his sword. He was hesitant as he shuffled closer, waiting for William to pull the rug from under his feet. William did no such thing, reaching out to take his hand just as he had taken his sword. His fingers caressed Sherlock's knuckles just as they had done to the hilt, respectfully and with care.
The samurai wanted to ask, feeling as lost as a teenager during their first kiss. He didn't dare, though, as William didn't seem to want to talk. The blonde loosely wrapped an arm around Sherlock's shoulders, pressing himself against the clothed man, enjoying the feeling of the sun-warmed cotton on his naked skin. He smiled demurely, and pulled on his obi .
Sherlock realised he was asking for permission and nodded quickly, not giving shame any time to settle in. William undid the binding, letting his yukata fall open. He didn't look, though Sherlock knew he wanted to, and only pressed himself closer to the man.
His lord mumbled something, but the blood rushing to Sherlock's ears rendered him temporarily deaf. He must've looked confused because William smiled, cradled his cheek with a soft hand, and planted a gentle kiss on the other man's lips.
His lips felt unlike anything Sherlock had ever experienced before. Soft like petals on a rose, those lips moved against his, devouring without taking. Sherlock took the kiss as assurance and placed his hand on William's hip. He couldn't believe he was touching him, part of him felt like he should be beheaded for such indiscretion. William didn't seem to care about any of that as he pushed the robe off the other's shoulder without breaking the kiss.
The second son was bold in his actions, placing his hand on top of Sherlock's and guiding it to his behind. Sherlock spluttered, pulling away. William giggled, squeezing his own cheek with Sherlock's hand.
The last remnants of restraint that tethered Sherlock to reality dissipated, and he picked the other man up with a grunt. William yelped, grabbing onto him for dear life. He felt his back touch the wall, and leaned his head back as the samurai mouthed at his neck.
They were getting loud, too loud for a time of the day when servants would be walking around. Neither seemed to care, as they kissed with abandon.
Suddenly, a knock rang out. Hateful knuckles knocking against hard wood.
"Brother, are you in there?"
It was Louis. He politely kept the door closed, waiting for his brother to reply.
William didn't seem panicked. Sherlock didn't share his sentiment, as he felt Louis would have his head and his manhood if he caught them in this position. He put William down, much to the other man's displeasure.
"Yes, what is it?"
"Brother Albert wants to see you."
They could see his shadow from behind the screen. Posture straight and head slightly curved.
"Let him know I'll be right there."
Louis hummed, getting up to leave before pausing.
"Do you want me to get anything for Mr Holmes?"
William laughed, open mouthed and carefree, head thrown back in glee. Sherlock was far too enthralled by the sight to care that his life was about to end.