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“Liam, are you getting tired?” Sherlock asked, as he noticed that Liam’s posture slouched and his eyes drooped. It had been a long day–fighting mobs in Vermissa–and now they were traveling back to the North on horseback. To be completely honest, Sherlock was astonished by how Liam was still awake.
“Im fine, Sherly” Liam reassured him with a smile. But his body language told a different story.
When Billy later asked if they wanted to stop and set up camp, William didn't fail to notice how Sherlock immediately agreed.
“.......so then I told him, if you were going to shoot in the first place, at least have the correct aim!” Billy exclaimed as he tended to the fire. “Seriously, he was so ignorant.” He poked at an ember. Sherlock lightly smiled in agreement, but his attention was elsewhere. The blond next to him was staring into the flames with half-lidded eyes. Sherlock couldn't help but appreciate his beauty–the reflection of the flames on his golden hair, his long eyelashes, and the glow of the hearth in his glimmering ruby eyes.
Sherlock admitted he was deeply infatuated with this man a long time ago.
Suddenly, the man in question closed his eyes, and all of his weight fell onto Sherlock’s side. Caught off guard, but not surprised at William’s exhaustion, Sherlock quickly accepted the physical contact. Something he typically never enjoyed–unless it was from the blonde.
Billy paused his conversation when he noticed the scene in front of him, and opened his mouth to form a teasing comment, yet it quickly shut. His eyes suddenly became misty, full with an unexpected sadness.
“It pains me that you refuse to tell him,” Billy whispered. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the sudden shift in tone. “I know that you're content with how your relationship is now but……” his eyes drifted to the fire. “Things change. Life happens. You know just as well as I do that things don't go as planned.” He looked up. “I’d hate to watch you let him drift away. And I know you'd hate yourself for it”. Sherlock’s eyes drifted to the man leaned on his shoulder.
“You know, I claim I'm the greatest detective in the world, but I can never figure him out. I can't tell if he wants more or not–Liam is all I care about, Billy. You have to understand that even the thought of telling him comes with the fear of placing even more burden upon him, and also could be what drives us apart”. He looked into Billy’s eyes. “Im holding him right now, and he's not going anywhere. Who's to say that a wave might separate us, but that wave could be my feelings.”
“A wave could force you two to hold each other tighter,” retorted Billy.
Sherlock paused. He sat there, one arm around William’s waist and the other picking at the side of his nail. “I want to tell him, Billy, I really do,” he whispered. Billy saw the pain and anguish in Sherlock's eyes, but also the love and admiration he had for the ex-criminal.
“Sherlock,” Billy whispered. “You know what you should do….” Sherlock smiled, the firelight highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. “....get some sleep. Please. I have never seen your eyebags so dark before.”
Sherlock scoffed. He gently moved William down to his lap, and combed his hands through his hair.
“Just a little longer. You can go ahead, I’ll watch the fire”
Billy smiled–a large, genuine one–and sat up to unpack his gear. He left two love-struck men, one who had just overhead most of the entire conversation, to indulge themselves in the affection the other reserved for them, and only them.
“Goodnight, Liam” Sherlock whispered as he tenderly kissed the man’s palm.
—---
Later, Sherlock will awake with an aching back and neck, but the sight of a curled Liam in his lap would be worth any discomfort.