Chapter Text
Sherlock held Liam for at least half an hour while he cried. He hadn’t been expecting such a flood of emotion from him, but then again, the visceral reminders of what had been taken from him were hard to swallow. Sherlock had been lucky enough to receive proper medical care right away, but Liam had laid in a bed for three months and wasted away. Nothing about his physical abilities felt familiar right now, and that lack of comfort was grating on him.
The training was helping; Liam was recovering nicely, both in body and spirit. He wasn’t nearly as agile or durable as he was before, but the strength he’d gained in the short few weeks since he’d left the hospital was unreal. Sherlock hardly recognized him already. Even Billy had made a comment about Liam’s physical condition the past weekend when he’d officiated one of their sparring matches.
But after being the Lord of Crime for so long, the stark difference of waking up with muscle atrophy was shocking. It would have been different if Liam was a regular man with a typical physique. The fall from peak athleticism to asking for help to walk was a long fall, and Liam’s pride was fragile as it was.
Sherlock wondered as Liam calmed down whether he’d be angry or embarrassed with him for witnessing this breakdown. He hadn’t shattered like this since their first few days at home, and he knew how hard it was as a man to be seen in a vulnerable state. If he were in Liam’s shoes, he’d be willing himself out of existence right now.
So, he did the only thing he knew to do, and he grabbed them both a drink. A bottle of wine, specifically, one that Liam had chosen from the winery.
“Thank you,” Liam said, taking the glass from him.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” Sherlock asked.
Liam shook his head. He took a sip of wine, then swirled it around, staring forlornly at the deep red liquid. With his knees pulled to his chest and his body curled into the side of the couch, he looked so much smaller than his six-foot frame. Sherlock’s heart ached to see him this way.
The longer Liam lost himself in thought, the higher Sherlock’s anxiety rose. He didn’t know what to do. John hadn’t prepared him for a situation like this. It was different when women cried—he’d get them water and a handkerchief, pat their head, and tell them to say whatever was on their mind. That tended to work with Miss Hudson, anyway. But Liam was entirely different. He hid himself behind so many masks that the average person couldn’t scratch the surface of his true feelings. Even with his own family, Sherlock could tell he hid himself behind a complex web of lies. It was only here, across the pond, fresh out of a coma and narrowly having survived a suicide attempt, that Liam dropped those masks. Sherlock was privy to information the rest of the world would have killed to know—and strangely, he had a feeling he’d kill to protect this Liam all the same.
Liam hated being vulnerable. Sherlock could see the way his hands trembled around his wine glass, noticed the slight quiver to his lips when a troubling thought crossed his mind. Liam was too weak to hide himself now, but he was terrified to be exposed like this. Sherlock desperately wanted to make him feel safe. He’d do anything to make Liam trust that he’d hold his real feelings gently. He would gladly be the shield that protected him from the battering of a judgemental society, if only it would give him the room to feel all that he’d set aside for the good of his nation.
But for now, all he could do was give him a drink, sit with him, and wait for him to speak. It was maddening. Sherlock wondered if he’d have to pry the words out of him at this rate.
He took a sip of wine, then set down his glass. He was about to get the bottle for a refill when a small pressure on his shoulder froze him in place. He glanced down to see Liam’s hand there, squeezing him with white knuckles. Liam couldn’t seem to look him in the eye.
“Don’t leave yet,” he said quietly.
“I won’t,” Sherlock promised, placing his hand over Liam’s.
He moved closer, and Liam shifted himself to curl into Sherlock’s body instead of the couch arm. Sherlock felt his breath catch in his throat as the pressure of Liam’s body sent butterflies fluttering all across the surface of his skin. It was warm, unbearably warm, but he didn’t dare move now that Liam had trusted him to get this close.
It was silent for another while longer. Surprisingly, Sherlock grew comfortable in the silence, focused on the beating of Liam’s heart against his side. As long as he felt that rhythmic beating, he could be content, he discovered. He wondered if he’d fall asleep this way. It was rather comforting.
“Do you…?” Liam trailed off. He sighed, then said, “I’m sorry. A stupid question.”
“With you, there’s no such thing,” Sherlock insisted. “Ask me.”
Liam swallowed hard, then finally said, “Do you ever wish I was as brave as you?”
Sherlock could have laughed out loud. He used a great effort to stop the laughter bubbling up in his chest as he said, “Now, that is not the question I expected. Do you really think I’m brave?”
“You express yourself so much easier than I do. Every time I try, it comes out a tangled mess,” Liam admitted. “You can wear your heart on your sleeve without covering it up in fear. I envy that about you.”
“I couldn’t cover it up if I tried,” Sherlock snorted. “What you think of as bravery is merely a lack of ability.”
Liam shook his head. “You’re smart enough to figure out how to hide yourself in plain sight. You could have done it had you wished. But you didn’t. Every day, you make it clear how you feel, including about me.”
Sherlock’s heart leapt into his throat. “...Do I really?”
“You do. I wish I could return your affections as easily as you express them to me.”
Liam took another sip of his wine, finishing the glass. He set it down on the coffee table, then buried his face in Sherlock’s chest. “The best I can do is tease you. It’s not fair.”
Sherlock struggled to breathe. They were encroaching on dangerous territory here. He made a conscious effort to shove down his most powerful desires, then finally found the right words to say.
“You don’t need to worry about expressing yourself like I do, Liam. You’re you. Part of your charm is the mystery you leave in your wake. You never directly say what you mean, and it leaves a trail for me to follow. I love deciphering the small nuances in the way you speak. Even if you struggle to tell me something, I figure out what you’re trying to say in the end—and that, in itself, is rewarding enough.”
“Still…you deserve for your affections to be returned properly.”
“You’re returning them properly enough, Liam. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Do I not frustrate you?”
“Of course not.”
“Do I not inconvenience you?”
“I’m sure I’m far more inconvenient to you.”
Liam looked up at him with shining eyes. “Of course not. You’ve done nothing but save me since the moment we met. Nothing about you has been an inconvenience—not your vices, not your surly attitude, not even your affinity for causing mischief. You saved my life and showed me a way to live again. How could you be anything but wonderful?”
Sherlock suddenly had to look away. His chest seized like he’d been punched. What was happening to him? He felt…wrong. Very wrong. He had to get Liam off this topic before whatever this feeling was consumed him.
“Anyway,” Sherlock said, clearing his throat, “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“What do you mean?”
“During the mission. The closet,” Sherlock coughed. “That had to be mortifying for you. You couldn’t get away even if you wanted to.”
“No, please don’t apologize. That was my miscalculation,” Liam insisted. “I’m the one that laid the plans.”
“No, I need to apologize. Because you always have the right to leave a situation if you’re uncomfortable, and in there, you couldn’t escape. I feel disgusting,” Sherlock said, his stomach tying itself into a knot. “That’s something I never wanted to do to you.”
“Sherly, if it had really bothered me that much, I would have found a way out. It would have compromised the plan, but there were plenty of other options. I chose to stay there. It wasn’t like the door didn’t open.”
Sherlock was struck by a thought, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Hang on, did you like that?”
Liam’s face went bright pink. Sherlock immediately clapped a hand over his mouth. He turned away, shrieking, “Don’t answer that! I’m so sorry! That has to be embarrassing as hell to think about. I’m being selfish.”
“...Although it caught me by surprise, I did like it. I just wasn’t expecting to make such a discovery while on a mission.”
Sherlock’s brain shortcircuited. He hadn’t expected Liam to answer, let alone answer in the affirmative. He flashed back to that moment in the closet, feeling Liam move with him in the most tantalizing of ways. If he’d enjoyed that, did that mean he’d enjoy it the same if they were in bed together, and he…?
Sherlock suddenly shook his head to clear it. He was not going to let the horny demons win over him tonight. They were strong, but he was much stronger.
“I’m sorry for putting you through that. I shouldn’t have asked such a selfish question. I should be headed off to bed now.”
Sherlock stood up, about to leave, but Liam caught his hand and tugged him back with surprising force.
“Don’t go yet.”
“Liam, haven’t I thoroughly embarrassed you by now?” Sherlock asked, feeling his cheeks heat. “You deserve better than this.”
“If you leave now, I’ll feel as though you don’t want me that way, and that would be most embarrassing of all,” Liam said.
Sherlock stiffened. “Liam, you do understand that if I stay with you with our minds headed down the track they’re on, I may not be able to restrain myself fully. I’m using a lot of self-restraint as it is.”
“I understand that.”
“Are you sure you understand? Are you being brave, or are you rebounding from the way you felt earlier?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Sherlock turned around to see Liam blinking up at him with the most innocent expression. Sherlock shrieked and cried like a madman inside; did Liam seriously not understand what that meant? He was the most innocent man alive, if so, and that only made him more appealing. Sherlock felt even dirtier than before.
He’s so precious, touching him will stain my hands forever.
But honestly, Sherlock was overdue for some mischief.
He tugged Liam to his feet, pushed him over to the wall, and pinned his hands above his head. Liam gasped as Sherlock leaned in until their noses were nearly touching. He could smell the faint scent of wine on Liam’s breath, and it made him wonder what his lips would taste like. The thought had Sherlock in a chokehold.
“Fine, then. If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. But you have to tell me to stop when you don’t like this anymore,” Sherlock warned. “Otherwise, I’ll keep going until I’m satisfied, and it may take all night.”
Something very primal shifted in Liam’s eyes. His expression sharpened, and his grin turned wicked. “You’ve caught me, Detective. Whatever shall you do with me now?”
“Wouldn’t you like to find out?”
Sherlock crashed his lips into Liam’s, eliciting a note of surprise from Liam. That sound only pushed him further over the edge. Sherlock tightened his grip around Liam’s wrists as he started planting kisses all along his neck and shoulder. Liam gasped lightly as he went, twisting against him instinctively, but finding he was incapable of moving. Sherlock watched the light intensify in his eyes as he found himself pinned against that wall, and a sickening desire poured through him.
He wanted more. A lot more.
He moved his free hand to caress Liam’s chest, then trailed his fingers down lower, adoring the way Liam bit his lip in response. He pushed his luck and started letting his hand wander lower, brushing lightly over Liam’s hipbone, and then his thigh, and then his inner thigh. Liam whined, then his eyes flew wide, bright red blossoming all over his face.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed.
“Don’t be. I love hearing that sound fall from your lips,” Sherlock said darkly.
He took his time undoing the buttons on Liam’s shirt until Liam was half-exposed. He started kissing him on his collarbone, then trailed down the center of his chest, then took his time tracing his lips over those oblique lines, hiding the beginnings of his abs. Sherlock nipped the skin around his hips, and he shuddered hearing Liam whine louder than before.
“Do you like it when I bite you?” Sherlock chuckled.
“Embarrassingly enough, yes,” Liam panted.
“Don’t be embarrassed. Enjoy it.”
Sherlock kissed him back up his abs and to his chest, then smirked before he took another risk—he took Liam’s nipple between his lips and sucked on it gently. Liam writhed and let out a moan that surprised them both. Sherlock glanced up at him with a very dark, dangerous feeling coiling in the pit of stomach.
“You like that, too, do you?”
Liam looked away. “I can’t believe I reacted like that.”
“Did it feel good?”
“...Yes.”
“Then do it again.”
Sherlock sucked harder this time, and Liam moaned loud enough for the neighbors to hear. He struggled against Sherlock’s grip, but Sherlock kept him firmly pinned against that wall, enjoying the sweet melody he was extracting from this beautiful man. He mercifully gave Liam a break from his teasing, but it was only so he could kiss him again, and roughly. Liam’s lips followed his own with the sort of desperation that drove a man mad. Sherlock didn’t recognize himself as he made a low sound and bit Liam’s bottom lip. Liam gasped, but that just gave an opportunity for Sherlock to slip his tongue into his mouth, and Liam melted into him. He was clumsy, but the passion was so strong that it nearly swept Sherlock off his feet.
Sherlock dared to take yet another risk and drove his hips against Liam’s pinning the rest of his body against the wall. Liam glanced down at their hips, then looked away, an impossible shade of red.
“Sherly, are you alright with this?” he mumbled.
“What? With you being a man?”
“In a way.”
“We are so far past that mattering,” Sherlock said.
He seized Liam’s shoulders, flipped him around, and pushed him even harder against the wall. Liam whimpered loudly as Sherlock kissed the back of his neck.
“Now, I should be asking you: Are you okay with me being a man?”
Liam nodded, but he gasped again as Sherlock pressed his hips into his ass. He felt Liam’s body tremble violently as Sherlock held him there.
“You do know what this means for you, right?” Sherlock said lowly.
“I do,” Liam whispered.
“And are you alright with that?”
“I trust you,” Liam breathed. “You’d never hurt me.”
“You’re damn right I wouldn’t.”
Sherlock kissed Liam’s neck once more, then flipped him back around to kiss his mouth. He cupped Liam’s face in his hands, kissed him breathless, then paused for a moment to rest his forehead against Liam’s, panting.
“You drive me mad, you know that?” Sherlock said.
“And you make me want to live,” Liam said. “We’ve even.”
Sherlock could have cried. Instead, he kissed Liam again, softly this time, then said, “That’s not even close to even. I have a lot of ground to make up here.”
“Then take what you want.”
Sherlock shook his head, smiling. “Trust me, we’d be up all night if I did that. You’d be overwhelmed after five minutes.”
“Maybe so. But you should start taking more when you can, Sherly. I’m more willing to give than you seem to understand.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Sherlock chuckled.
Liam smirked. Just before Sherlock realized what he was planning, Liam swiftly reached down and traced his fingers along his groin. Sensations Sherlock would have thought impossible before seized him and threatened to make a fool of him. He clapped a hand over his mouth and successfully stifled the most embarrassing sound he’d made in his life.
“How’s this for temptation?” Liam teased.
“You’re diabolical,” Sherlock said through gritted teeth. “Don’t you know how this ends?”
“I thought it only went as far as I said it did, Detective.”
“You absolute brat!”
“Come, now, did you really think this would go your way when you gave me control?”
“Damn you,” Sherlock said, his hands shaking tremendously as he worked to keep them to himself. “Just how long do you intend to torture me?”
“As long as it takes to make you concede.” Liam traced his hand along Sherlock’s inner thigh, nearly causing his total unraveling. “...Although I sense that coming sooner rather than later.”
“Alright, alright, I concede! Take your hands off me!”
Sherlock’s heart pounded as Liam finally released him from torment. Those ruby eyes gleamed with a devilish sort of pleasure, and Sherlock would be lying if he said it didn’t make him want to take him all over again. Liam’s power over him was complete.
“I think I’ve learned enough about myself for tonight,” Liam said. “I’ll be off to bed, then.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” Sherlock said, grabbing his shoulders. “You forgot something.”
He sucked hard on Liam’s collarbone close to his neck. Liam gasped and fidgeted like mad as Sherlock tortured him.
“Sherly, what are you doing?”
When Sherlock was finished, he pulled back and said, “You can’t leave before I say thank you. I’ve given you a small token of my gratitude.”
Liam frowned. “What did you do?”
“Go look in the mirror. You’ll see.”
Liam ran into the bathroom, then yelped. Sherlock doubled over in laughter.
Liam might have had him on a tight leash—but he would always have the last laugh.