Chapter Text
The sun was shining brightly through the curtains in the window by the time Sherlock woke up. He yawned tiredly, wondering exactly what time it was. From the angle of the light, he deduced it was likely late morning.
He became aware of the fact that he was spooning William too, when he shifted lightly in his sleep. Everything from mere hours ago suddenly hit him, and he felt his heart beat violently in his chest. He leaned in, closing the space between them and placing a kiss on the back of William’s hair.
He didn’t have any regrets at all. But he still wasn’t entirely sure of what he was supposed to do next. The obvious, morally correct move would be to turn William over to the police. But even if he wanted to do that, he knew it was probably completely pointless. Even if he confessed to being the Lord of Crime to the Scotland Yard, there was no evidence to convict him. Plus it was highly likely that he had a connection there, too. Even though Sherlock had sworn to arrest the Lord of Crime, he had absolutely no authority nor the means to do so. And by that point he’d completely lost the desire to do so, as well.
The thought of someone trying to take William away from him again… it made his blood boil.
Not that anyone could, though. There was truly no match for William and his organization. He was going to do whatever the hell he wanted and nobody was going to stop him.
Sherlock exhaled deeply, snuggling closer into the blond. The only thing he still didn’t understand was what a godly force like William saw in a small detective like himself. Sure, he had his fame, but William was the one who gave him that in the first place.
What exactly had Sherlock done to make the infamous crime lord see him as worthy?
Was William going to see him differently now? What if he didn’t hold up to his expectations in the criminal life and wasn’t seen as worthy anymore?
He slightly jumped at the faint sound of the front door to the flat being opened. He heard voices, and immediately recognized them as belonging to John and Ms. Hudson.
Shit, he thought, sitting up and looming over his Liam, who was still decorated with hickeys and bite marks and handprints, and still sound asleep.
Sherlock let out a small laugh, leaning down and kissing William on the cheek. As much as he wanted to stay here, he knew it would probably be bad for his two housemates to walk in on this sight. Not that he didn’t trust them with the fact that he was absolutely an open homosexual now, but he’d still rather at least spare William from the confrontation should they decide to come into Sherlock’s bedroom.
With that, the detective quickly scrambled out of bed and put on some random clothes from his closet. He half-heartedly brushed his untamed hair with his fingers before leaving the room and making sure to shut the door behind him.
The noise earned the attention of the two, who both gasped loudly at the sight of Sherlock, alive and home safe.
“Sherlock!” They both cried in unison. John ran up the stairs and hugged his friend tightly, making Sherlock laugh before letting out a small groan.
“Easy… I’m injured, you know,” he chuckled, but hugged John back.
“I’m so glad you’re alive!” The doctor cried frivolously, similar to the way he did after Sherlock had refused to shoot Hope. “We were so worried about you!”
“Worried about me? Sherlock Holmes, London’s greatest detective? Rubbish,” Sherlock smirked as he patted John on the back and pulled away. “It takes a lot more than a floating hunk of ice to kill me.”
John laughed, and stepped aside when Ms. Hudson also made her way up the stairs. Sherlock extended his arms to his sides, fully preparing for an embrace.
“How do you like that, Ms. Hudson? I’m finally home!” He cheered before she smacked him across the cheek, leaving a bright red hand mark on his skin.
“Oww!” He whined, bringing his hand to rub the sore spot. “Geez! What’s with the harsh treatment?!”
Ms. Hudson didn’t answer, but began to openly cry as she threw her arms around Sherlock as well. The detective blinked in confusion; he would seriously never understand women. But he smiled and returned the hug nonetheless, feeling Ms. Hudson’s tears wet his shirt.
“Welcome home, Sherlock,” she mumbled between sobs, a blush staining her cheeks.
“Aww, Ms. Hudson! I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“W-Well maybe if you weren’t such a child, I’d say nice things to you more often!”
“Hey, it’s your fault I almost died. If I could have afforded a first class ticket, I could’ve gotten on the lifeboats and come home sooner!”
“Huh?!”
“Sherlock!” John scolded him, but the three dissolved into laughter shortly after, too relieved to truly be mad and get into a fight.
“Where were you two?”
“Out looking for you,” John explained, putting his hand on Ms. Hudson’s shoulder. “We’ve spent the last several days working with the Yard, seeing if we could find any leads… I know how stupid that sounds, but I just knew in my heart you weren’t dead.”
Sherlock smiled with a shrug. “I’m flattered."
“Come on, you must be exhausted. Let me make some tea, and you can tell us what happened,” Ms. Hudson suggested, tugging on Sherlock’s sleeve to urge him into the kitchen.
“I’d love some,” Sherlock replied with a toothy grin. “But uh… give me a minute. I need to… do something first,” he explained weakly, making his two friends tilt their heads in confusion. They nodded though, and went back down the stairs while Sherlock sighed in relief.
He turned around and slowly opened his bedroom door, surprised to find William out of bed. He was standing in front of the window, sheets wrapped around his body and decently covering him up. Sherlock noticed a light puff of smoke emit from his mouth and evaporate above his head.
The detective bit his lip. William was the only one who was allowed to get away with that.
He entered the room and shut the door behind him, making the blond turn to peer at him.
“Good morning,” William greeted him quietly before taking another drag of the cigarette and turning back towards the window.
The room felt slightly tense, much to Sherlock’s chagrin.
He knew they needed to talk.
Sherlock put one hand in his pocket and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly with the other as he made his way over to William, standing in the open spot next to him. William’s gazed was still fixed on the window, making Sherlock’s hand fidget in his pocket.
“I hope you’re happy,” he jeered with a slight grin, earning William’s attention as his crimson eyes fell on him. “You’ve made me one of your damn accomplices.”
William removed the cigarette between two of his fingers, exhaling with a menacing smile. “You’ve always been my accomplice. You just didn’t accept it until now.”
Right. He’d been dancing to William’s tune ever since they first met. Still, a new flood of questions nagged at the detective. What exactly did William want him to do now? What was going to be different? Did William expect Sherlock to go as far as spilling blood for him, like all his other loyal associates did? He wasn’t sure if he could—
“Sherlock… I hope you don’t think I expect you to change.”
The detective exhaled sharply, releasing the breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. That had been exactly what he was thinking; leave it to his Liam to read his mind.
“I don’t.” William continued reassuringly, reaching down and tapping away the excess ash from the cigarette onto the ashtray. “I want you to keep doing exactly what you’ve been doing all this time.”
“And that would be uncovering your crimes and exposing them to the public, right?” Sherlock stated more than asked, earning a nod from the blond.
“Why, though?” Sherlock prodded, putting a hand on his hip. “Why do you need me to uncover your crimes? The media and a lot of commoners already see you as a hero. You already have a lot of support. So what was the point of bringing me into it and making me famous?”
William remained silent, completely ignoring those series of questions, causing a vein to pop up in Sherlock’s forehead.
“I should be getting back to Durham. I have a lecture today, and I’d like to get cleaned up before then,” William said as he snuffed out the rest of the cigarette and started gathering his discarded clothes.
Sherlock smirked as he hugged William from behind. “Leaving so soon? Why not just bathe here? We can do it together,” he purred suggestively, making the blond scoff.
“You’re insatiable,” he chided as he got dressed, giggling at the childish whine that escaped Sherlock’s lips. He turned to face him while he buttoned up his shirt. “Don’t worry, darling. I will see you again soon. That’s a promise.”
That made Sherlock perk up, like a dog who just had his name called. He placed a sloppy, wet kiss on William’s cheek, making the blond laugh and shove him away. He picked up his red tie that had been ripped up with several tears as a result of William digging his teeth into it. Sherlock laughed as he tossed the ruined garment to the floor and started making his way to the door.
“Wait, John and Ms. Hudson are down there,” Sherlock warned, making William turn and look at him with confusion.
“Is there a problem?”
“Uhh, no...? But I guess I assumed we were going to try and be more secretive about this?”
“What’s the matter, Sherlock? Are you embarrassed?” William teased with a smirk, making Sherlock’s mouth hang open.
“You’re the one who’s covered in hickeys!”
“They’re your friends, are they not?” William asked, his tone softening. Sherlock grumbled a bit under his breath, but ultimately nodded at the question.
“Well, then they are my friends. Everything will be fine.”
Sherlock snickered as he waved his hand dismissively. “If you say so, my lord. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“We are no longer in bed, Mr. Holmes. You will not be giving me orders,” the crime lord replied with a sly grin.
Sherlock chuckled as he followed him out of the room. William certainly was cheeky for someone who was moaning and begging for Sherlock’s dick just a few hours ago. But William’s complexity was one of the reasons Sherlock loved him so much. And now that it was confirmed that his Liam was the Lord of Crime, his attraction only increased.
If William was immediately going to revert back to bratty behavior after all of their love sessions, Sherlock would just have fun breaking him all over again every single time.
And he wasn’t embarrassed about it... Not in the slightest.
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
As the two made their way downstairs, they approached Sherlock’s housemates; John sitting comfortably in his chair while Ms. Hudson stood at the stove making tea.
John turned his attention away from the newspaper he was reading, eyes falling onto his partner. “So, Sherlock, tell us the story about the Cryst—ahh?” He trailed off on the last word when he realized Sherlock was not alone, noticing the blond standing next to him hand-in-hand with him.
“Good morning, Dr. Watson,” William greeted casually with a pleasant smile. “It’s nice to see you again. And this must be Ms. Hudson.”
Ms. Hudson flinched at the sound of an unfamiliar voice coming from behind, and turned to see the two before gawking loudly. The disheveled clothing, the nervous look on Sherlock’s face, the hickeys on his neck…
“SHERLOCK!” Ms. Hudson yelled so loud Sherlock was surprised the teacups didn’t break. “What is the meaning of this?!”
“I told you this was a bad idea,” Sherlock uttered in William’s ear, making him giggle.
“This had better not be another bloody prostitute!”
William’s eyebrows furrowed. “Another…?”
“Ms. Hudson!” Sherlock shrieked, throwing his hands up defensively. “You’re gonna give him the wrong idea!”
William cleared his throat before giving the landlady a polite grin and bowing his head respectfully. “Please forgive my intrusion. My name is William James Moriarty. It’s an honor to finally meet you, Ms. Hudson, I have heard so much about you. Sherlock and I will be seeing each other from now on. I promise to cause you no trouble, so I do hope we can get along.”
Ms. Hudson stared at him for a while, blinking in awe before she lit up, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushing.
“Oh my God, he’s like a prince!” She bubbled, covering her mouth in disbelief. Sherlock’s eye twitched at how quickly her demeanor changed.
“So polite… so charming!” Ms. Hudson continued, moving forward and taking one of William’s hands in both of her own. “You are way out of Sherlock’s league, you know…!”
“Ms. Hudson!” Sherlock choked, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his head.
“Would you like to stay for some tea?” Ms. Hudson asked, completely ignoring the detective and making William laugh.
“That’s such a kind offer, but I’m afraid I must be getting back to Durham. It was lovely making your acquaintance, Ms. Hudson. And goodbye, Dr. Watson.”
“I-I’ll lead you out,” Sherlock stuttered, putting a hand on William’s shoulder while Ms. Hudson deflated in disappointment.
“Wait,” John called to them before they made it to the stairs. He stood up from his chair and approached the two, attention turned onto the blond. “Lord Moriarty?”
William turned to face the doctor, blinking curiously.
“You’re the one from that time on the train from York, aren’t you?”
“Hmmm? Yes, I was.” William nodded in confirmation.
“I never got the chance to say thank you,” John explained with a soft smile. “If it weren’t for you, I would have ended up in court… possibly even in jail. So thank you so much. You really helped me!”
William smiled, closing his eyes. “No need to thank me, Dr. Watson. That’s what I do.”
Sherlock grinned as he watched their exchange. He supposed that really was what William was all about. The mystery they solved on the train together had been a perfect example of the Lord of Crime helping innocents while operating outside of the law.
They all waved goodbye before Sherlock led William down the stairs and to the front door. They turned to face each other, eyeing one another fondly.
“You really are something else,” Sherlock chuckled as he caressed William’s cheek.
“If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t like me,” William fired back before purring and leaning into Sherlock’s touch.
The detective hummed, unable to argue with that. He leaned in for a kiss, and William happily met him, pressing their lips together softly. They kissed lovingly for several moments before both pulling back and sharing a soft smile.
“I love you, Sherlock.”
Sherlock smirked. “I love you too, Liam. Let’s meet up again soon. Also, you might want to borrow this,” he suggested as he swiped a scarf off the nearby coat rack and handed it to the blond.
William giggled as he wrapped it around his neck, effectively hiding the hickeys. He opened the door before turning to his lover with a fond but playful expression.
“Goodbye for now, Mr. Detective. Until we meet again.”
Sherlock felt his heart skip a beat. When William addressed him like that, it reminded him of the intense rivalry between them as the Great Detective and the Lord of Crime.
To a normal person, the existence of that rivalry might put a dent on any possibility of romance. However, Sherlock Holmes and William James Moriarty were far from normal, and Sherlock had never been more grateful for it.
He kissed William’s hand, seeing him off. He closed the door and released a lovesick sigh before making his way back up the stairs. He flinched and released an inhuman sound when he saw John and Ms. Hudson staring at him intensely.
“Explain,” Ms. Hudson demanded, tapping her foot against the floor impatiently.
“Uhh, actually I think I’m gonna go take a bath,” Sherlock dodged her and disappeared up the second set of stairs in a flash.
“Hey! Get back here! Explain!” Ms. Hudson yelled at him from the bottom of the stairs, while John just laughed nervously.
Sherlock shut the door of his bedroom, tuning out his landlady’s loud shouting. He knew his two friends did deserve an explanation, but he was still way too tired to deal with any of it. A hot bath sounded exquisite, and he began making his way towards the loo.
He stopped when he stepped on something and heard a quiet crinkling sound. He looked down and saw the envelope that William had brought over, still discarded on the floor.
Sherlock gasped quietly as he leaned down to pick it up. He had forgotten all about it until now. But should he even read it? A lot had changed in the short time between then and the time his Liam had written it.
Unable to fight his curiosity, he walked over to his desk and pulled out his letter opener. He sliced open the paper and carefully unfolded the letter before examining the contents. He immediately noticed some dark, wrinkled spots scattered along the paper. It was evident that it had been wet and dried, causing some of the ink to smear.
Which meant William had been crying as he wrote it.
Sherlock bit his lip somberly as he read the words.
Dear Mr. Holmes,
You told me just a short time ago about how many miscalculations you’ve had in the recent past. About how you were starting to doubt yourself, and how insecure you were feeling.
There was so much I wanted to say to you then. But how could I have, when I was feeling the exact same way?
It greatly pained me to see my detective feel that way, especially after how hard I worked to expose you to the world, and have everybody know the incredible deeds you’ve done. It’s true that I considered it a necessity for my plan, but I also did it for your sake. I thought maybe if the world revered you as the good man that you are, it would help boost your confidence. But that was also a bit of payback, for giving me a name and exposing my own existence to the world. That was never part of my plan, so congratulations for that.
Sherlock chuckled lowly. So he had managed to interfere with William’s grand scheme, at least a little bit. The thought made him delighted.
One of my affiliates told me an interesting story once. A story about a man who desired to turn crime fighting into a science, and was mocked for it, making his school life miserable.
“Tch… Bond, you bastard. That was private.”
But the man, despite all odds, successfully accomplished his dream. And he did it all to help those who were less fortunate… those who would be treated unfairly simply because of their social status. It was a wonderful story. That is exactly the type of man who I wish to support, and see succeed in the world. The type I wish to have by my side forever.
Are you familiar with theater? Some commoners and a few of the papers seem to constantly refer to me as the hero in this play. That was never part of my plan, either. While it’s true my motives are altruistic, I never meant to be recognized. Which is another reason I am extremely grateful to have met you. As you already know, I have no role in this play.
I work behind the scenes. I am simply a stage hand; perhaps one could argue I am the director. But I am not the hero. The hero is you, Sherlock Holmes. A noble, valiant hero who uncovers the misdeeds of my victims and exposes them to the world. My hero swore to protect me, and might have possibly even died doing so. My knight in shining armor, my light in the darkness.
Sherlock felt the tears well up in his eyes as his chest tightened.
I wish, at that time, I would have told you how I was feeling, because now it seems like I might have lost my chance forever. Even if you are alive, you may no longer wish to play with me, and I understand.
On the small chance you decide to forgive and accept me for what I am… thank you. Thank you. I don’t think I could possibly say it enough… thank you.
I can assure you that in my care, you will never have to worry about feeling insecure or even bored ever again. I will protect you, too. I love you, Sherlock Holmes.
I love you.
-Liam
Sherlock slapped the letter down on the desk, feeling the tears fall. Even though everything was settled between them, he still felt the weight of how William must have been feeling in the time Sherlock was missing.
Rather than stash away the letter in the drawer he’d put the rest of them in, he slid the paper between the mirror and the frame so that it hung on display. He gazed at his own reflection next to the letter, and for the first time, smiled at it.
It was just like Albert had told him, too. Just because he didn’t care about those bad people dying, didn’t mean he didn’t care about innocent people being treated poorly. He fought for the same cause as the Lord of Crime, but with different methods.
As he bathed, he closed his eyes and entered his mind palace again. He thought about his two recent science experiments and their conclusions. About how William James Moriarty was the Lord of Crime… and how he was also in love with him. Turns out both experiments had been a complete success.
And Sherlock wasn’t worried about being bored now. In fact, he was more excited than he’d ever been in his life.
He couldn’t wait for what kind of crazy mysteries and adventures fate had planned for them next.
He was ready.