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Once every two semesters, William would teach an upper-level math class to a group of seven students that were all older than he was. Not that that much mattered, William was grateful to teach, no matter how old or younger his students were. Regardless, the course was extremely fun for William to teach. He got to discuss theorems with people who could actually keep pace with what he was saying, connect with each one of his students individually, and not have to feel like he was talking to people who could care less because they were taking a 100 level class to fill the general education requirement.
Despite his enjoyment, there was a particular reason as to why he only held it once every two semesters. Because it was an upper-level course, there was never an option to choose from any of the time slots. Instead, William was typically given a two-hour time slot for every Wednesday stretching from 5pm to 7pm. As much as he loved the class, the timing killed him. When he taught it every semester, there were a couple occasions where he fell asleep fifteen minutes into class and woke up to an empty room.
From then on, he made it a point to not teach the course often and to also put a note in the syllabus saying that in the case of him falling asleep, the class would be canceled for the day.
“I do believe that will be sufficient for today,” William began, seeing as they had gone over time by a couple minutes. “Class is concluded for the day. I look forward to seeing you all next week,” William said, smiling at all of his students. He didn’t unpack much of his things, just had a thermos of tea he had been sipping on throughout the seminar. It made packing up much easier, only needing to put on his long coat and sling his messenger bag over his shoulder.
As William was dusting himself off of any particulate matter, a student of his came up to him. The woman, named Roselyn, was always full of questions to discuss after class with him. She was an incredibly intelligent individual and their conversations were always enlightening to William, but he simply did not have time for them today.
“Hey professor, I had a few questions that I think would make for a worthwhile discussion,” she began, and William gave her a soft smile.
“I don’t doubt that for a moment but I must get going,” William said, grabbing his tea thermos and tucking it into his bag. It was empty and he really didn’t want to hold it. The woman staring back at him quirked an eyebrow.
“Oh, how come?” Roselyn spoke, and when she realized what she said, she blinked. “My apologies, I shouldn’t be asking about your personal matters.”
“Don’t worry about it Roselyn, it’s quite alright. If you would like to know my husband is picking me up today because my car needed repairs,” William explained briefly, shooting her another one of his smiles. “It’s really quite a tedious story,” William commented, looking at her face. She looked shocked but also had a hint of something William couldn’t quite put a finger on.
“Your husband?” She asked, a small smile on her face.
“Yes, my husband. Is there a problem with that?” William asked, the look in his eyes turning into a sinister fury. The woman in front of him suddenly got nervous, her eyes widening.
“No, no of course not, I just wanted to make sure I heard you right is all,” Roselyn smiled, halfway nervous halfway joyful.
“Well if that’s all, I'll be taking my leave,” William said, giving her one final polite smile and the tip of his head. Roselyn stayed there for a little while longer and William could feel her eyes on him. Curious, when he walked out the door he stood there for a little while longer, just out of sight. He didn’t regret it, for what he heard put a large smile on his face.
“I knew it, my girlfriend owes me dinner!”
-
William made his way out of the hall, the evening breeze hitting harsh against his skin. To most people, it wasn't that cold, however, William got cold quickly due to his poor blood circulation. So, he pulled out his phone, pressing the call button to get ahold of Sherlock. After he didn’t pick up for the first three rings, William knew his phone was on do not disturb and he had to try again. This time Sherlock picked up almost instantly.
“ Yo, Professor Moriarty~ ,” Sherlock said and William could see the shit-eating grin on the man’s face. William blinked, expression remaining the same.
“It’s odd when you call me that. Nevertheless, where are you?” William asked. He remembered the last time he had Sherlock come and pick him up after his classes and cringed. The man somehow wound up on the other side of campus, ventured into four different parking lots, and almost got into an accident before William decided to simply walk the ten minutes to get to where he was parked next to the sidewalk.
“ I’m in the parking lot, ” Sherlock said. There was something about his tone that sounded off like he was trying to hide something. “ And before you ask, I'm in the right one this time. Right next to Locke hall yeah? ”
“Very good Sherly, I’m surprised a man like you was able to be directionally gifted,” William teased, walking towards the parking lot with a small smirk on his face. There was a pause on the other end, William knowing exactly what cogs he had made turn in Sherlock’s mind.
“ What’s that supposed to mean? A man like you? ” Sherlock said, deciding to take the mock offended route. It was typical of him to do, but William found it amusing nonetheless.
“Oh nothing dear, don’t worry about it,” William said, hearing the other man’s frustration over the phone. William continued walking, nearing the corner he had to turn to be in the parking lot.
“ You’re lucky you’re so pretty you know that? ” Sherlock said the suspicious tone he had in his voice was completely gone. It was only annoyance and frustration now.
“Fully aware Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” William said, now walking into the parking lot. He could hear Sherlock sigh over the phone, debating continuing this little argument or just dropping it. He picked the latter option, deciding that going back to their home was more important.
“ Are you almost here yet? I showed up ten minutes ago to make sure I was on time but apparently, you’re taking your sweet time, ” Sherlock snapped grumpily. As much as William loved him, Sherlock truly did act like a man child, but it charmed him in a way that made William’s brothers look at him like he was a walking fish.
“Settle down Sherly, I just walked into the parking lot,” William scanned the parking lot for his husband’s vehicle, a beat-up Toyota Camry with nearly 200,000 miles on it.
It pained William to ride in because they had the money to buy Sherlock a new car, but Sherlock always said it was reliability over cosmetic value. While William agreed with the statement somewhat, he couldn’t lie that Sherlock was a little ridiculous with this because the front bumper of his car was all but missing and the license plate bent in half from when he hit a snowbank a couple winters ago. Sherlock’s solution? Zip Tying what was left to the front of his car instead of just paying to get it fixed.
“I don’t see your car anywhere though, are you sure you’re in the right parking lot?” William asked, this time not in a teasing way but in a genuine way. The other end of the line was silent, which made William’s eyebrows furrow. He closed his eyes tightly and smiled to himself. Here we go again .
“It’s okay dear, just tell me what’s around you and I’ll walk-”
“ No, I'm definitely in the right lot. I can see you. I have a surprise for you, ” Sherlock sounded overconfident again and William was mildly concerned for himself and potentially Sherlock considering he may have done something stupid again. William remembered one time he had a surprise for him and Sherlock ended up making reservations at a restaurant that was supposed to be 10 miles away but was instead 100 miles away.
“What do you mean by surprise? Where are you?” William answered, his head moving from side to side. William wasn’t excited by any of the stretches of the word, but he wasn’t worried which was a relief.
“ Turn so you’re facing seven o’clock and then walk forward a little bit. You should see me then, ” Sherlock said with a grin that William could hear.
William did as he was instructed, pivoting himself in that direction and walking forward. Did Sherlock buy a new car? It was about time but he really should have told William about it in advance considering that the loans and monthly payments they had to make were kind of a big deal. He wouldn’t be mad, however, considering how much William hated his old car.
As William walked, thinking of all the possibilities, the number of cars in the lot shrank and he was starting to get a little concerned. Did Sherlock come here on a two-person bike or something ridiculous like that? William wouldn’t doubt it, somehow that man would find a way. He would probably convince John to ride it there. Oh, John, William couldn’t help but feel bad for him sometimes.
Lost in thought, William took a minute to realize the reality that waited before him. What he saw was something that overwhelmed him with negativity, he smiled the smile that only a few people got the pleasure of seeing. What stood in front of him was his husband, smiling like he didn’t know what he was doing. In front of Sherlock was a motorcycle, two helmets on top of the seat. One was jet black and the other a dark purple, both with visors that could be flipped down if needed.
William said nothing at the sight. He blinked a few times and turned around, walking away from the scene entirely.
The motorcycle was an extremely sore spot for William. Sherlock had bought it without telling him because he knew that William would tell him that fixing his car would be more practical and, well, Sherlock oftentimes didn’t want to hear things he didn’t want to hear. They had a little bit of an argument over it, but William realized that he was being a bit of a nagging hen. Was it because he knew motorcycles were extremely dangerous and he couldn’t bear the thought of Sherlock getting into an accident because of it? Yes, partially. But at the end of the day, he knew that Sherlock cared enough about their life together to follow all of the safety precautions, which made William feel warm inside.
Does that mean that William would ever lay a finger on the motorcycle?
Absolutely fucking not.
William still didn’t like the fact that Sherlock had purchased the thing without telling him which Sherlock admitted was a stupid decision. He also made it clear that this was Sherlock’s own endeavor and one that William would not partake in ever. Never ever. Sure, Sherlock wasn’t happy about it, but he said he respected William’s decision, but also said he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t try to get him on the motorcycle.
William was fine with it, most of Sherlock’s attempts thus far being bargaining or trying to bribe him into riding it. Of course, William’s willpower wasn’t broken that easily so he easily turned him down, no matter how many times he asked.
Now, William had no choice.
Well, he had one.
“Liam, where are you going?” Sherlock asked, following the man as he walked off.
“I’m walking home,” William stated, walking confidently.
“Liam, we both know you can’t just walk home,” Sherlock said, still walking after him.
“Oh but I can. And that’s what I’m doing right now,” William stated, still walking away from Sherlock. The other sighed, jogging to catch up with William. William picked up his pace as well, jogging slightly but to no avail, as Sherlock grabbed his wrist and pulled him to a stop.
“Let me go, Sherly. I’m not happy with you,” William said, turning back to face Sherlock. He had a look of anger on his face, which Sherlock winced at. Sherlock kept his grip steady on William’s wrist, which William tried to shake free of. He knew it was immature and stupid to declare he was walking home, but he was so cross with Sherlock at the moment he didn’t know what else to do. They stood in silence for a moment before Sherlock said something.
“I know you’re not happy with me and you have every right to be,” Sherlock admitted in defeat, biting the inside of his cheek. He let William’s wrist go, looking down at the ground like some kid who had just broken their mother’s vase. If not for how pissed he was, William might have even smiled at him.
“I told you I didn’t feel comfortable riding that motorcycle and yet you came here anyway, knowing that I would have to ride it to get home,” William expressed his feelings, looking at Sherlock for any sign of change in expression.
“I know,” Sherlock said, sounding like a kicked puppy. He didn’t put up his usual fight, perhaps knowing that he had messed up. William’s anger subsided slightly.
“That’s not an okay thing to do.”
“I know.”
“It was a stupid, impulsive, and overall heinous decision for you to make, Sherlock Holmes,” William stated, feeling his anger start to crumble.
“I know,” Sherlock said again, and William let out a sigh of defeat, knowing that he couldn't stay mad when Sherlock accepted that he had messed up. William got closer to him, so their chests were mere inches apart. He put his fingers under Sherlock’s chin, forcing him to look at William in the face. William looked into those azure eyes for a moment, not seeing the slightest bit of malice behind them, but only regret. William stood there, communicating in their secret language that he was waiting for something. Sherlock let the inside of his cheek go, closing his eyes and readying himself for the next words that came out of his mouth.
“‘M sorry Liam. I was only thinking of myself when I rode my bike here when I should’ve been thinking of you,” Sherlock took the hand William had under his chin, holding his finger and placing a kiss on the back of his hand. “Even though I’m always thinking of you, my prince,” Sherlock said, a stupid smile on his face. William couldn’t help but smile back, the nickname making his chest feel warm and stupidly fluffy. He got even closer to Sherlock, leaning into the other man’s lips but stopping just before they made contact.
“You’re lucky I love you so much.” William could feel the smirk on Sherlock’s lips against his own.
“I know.”
William rolled his eyes before closing them completely, pressing their lips together for a kiss. William loved the way they had gotten so used to the shape of each other’s lips and the individual movements that they slotted together perfectly and made one. William could taste a fresh cigarette on Sherlock’s lips as well as the spaghetti that was leftover from last night. He wanted to keep tasting Sherlock, staying the way they were in forever. With one of Sherlock’s hands on William’s waist, one of William’s hands threading its way up into Sherlock’s hair, and their other hand intertwined with the other.
As much as William wanted to keep going, to keep making out with Sherlock, they were in a public parking lot and the sun was setting, which meant William could only get colder. He pulled away from the kiss, leaning forward so his mouth was next to Sherlock’s ear. He felt Sherlock’s body tense up in excitement, which made a smirk form on William’s face.
“I may love you, but you’re still sleeping on the couch tonight my dear,” William whispered, pulling away from his ear. He gave a rather stunned Sherlock a quick kiss on his lips, walking towards the motorcycle with a much more pleasant aura surrounding him. Sherlock was left standing in the parking lot blinking until he eventually let out one of his boisterous laughs.
“William James Moriarty, what would I do without you?”
-
After their little moment in the parking lot, the two sickeningly in love men got onto the motorcycle. There was some dispute over who got which helmet, but William not so gently reminded Sherlock that he was still cross with him, which led to William wearing the matte black helmet and Sherlock wearing the deep purple one. Sherlock helped William make sure his bag was secure in the back compartment and that his helmet was fastened correctly before they got on.
William hesitantly got on, awkwardly mounting the motorcycle as he did. Sherlock laughed a little bit, making a joke about how if that’s how he got on top of Sherlock whenever he rode him, he would’ve never proposed. Needless to say, William gave him a death glare at that, which made Sherlock apologize profusely. However, it was quite funny, even to William.
Sherlock got on afterward, started the motorcycle, waiting for William to grab onto him. When the man didn’t, Sherlock turned his head back and yelled.
“What are you doing!” Sherlock asked, making sure to project his voice.
“Huh?”
“What are you doing?”
“What?”
Sherlock turned off the motorcycle, sighing more positively than anything.
“You’re supposed to wrap your arms around my waist babe. It’s so you don’t fall off while we're riding,” Sherlock explained, looking at William through the helmet opening. It only exposed his eyes and nose, but it was enough to tell that he had gotten flustered. William wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s waist, and honestly, the man could’ve sworn he had been to heaven and back.
“Like this?” William asked. His grip was loose but it would be okay for just getting started.
“Yeah! But don’t worry about holding on tighter ‘cause you might need to,” Sherlock explained just so William would know it’s okay. The sound of silence assured Sherlock it was okay to get moving, starting the motorcycle up and kicking up the stand. He then reversed the two manually and positioned them towards the road they needed to be on before putting his feet up on the rests, propelling them forward into the night.
-
The sun was still up when they began their journey, its light painting the sky with beautiful shades of warm and cool colors alike. The closer to the setting sun your eyes traveled the more orange it got, sitting in a sliver of the horizon in all its brightness. As you continued to move up, the warm colors faded to cools, the light blue of the morning sky stuck in between light and the dark night sky that would eventually flood the sky above. The clouds that still hung around were able to capture a vibrant pink tone, creating a contrast between the ever-darkening sky.
It was beautiful to look up to, something that William admittedly would have missed out on if he would have been in Sherlock’s car. He even noticed that Venus was there, sitting in the sky with the moon, letting the sun know it was their time to rule over the land above the earth. It was lovely, watching the clouds pass him by as the motorcycle roared on, William taking his eyes away from the sky when Sherlock had asked him a question.
“You good back there?” He yelled, unsure if the words reached William. William knew that he wouldn’t be able to project his voice loud enough for him to hear, so he thought of a different way to communicate his statues. William removed one hand from its place around Sherlock’s waist which startled the other at first until he felt one of William’s thin fingers pressing through the fabric of both his shirt and jacket. He began to trace something, and Sherlock made sure to pay close attention.
Y E S
The arm returned to Sherlock’s waist, and William smiled, knowing that the relaxation of his lover’s body meant that he had received the message. It was one of the many things William loved about Sherlock Holmes. He just understood him, and that made William fall for him as hard as he did.
William’s eyes turned down from the heavens looking down at the world around them. The world was passing by at such an accelerated rate, William not being able to make out faces or storefronts. Things were so much different on a motorcycle. It was so fast, so cold. William could feel the chilliness to his core at this point, but he decided to do what he usually did whenever he felt cold and Sherlock was around.
William wrapped his arms tighter around Sherlock’s back, letting his helmet-covered head fall in the broad space between Sherlock’s shoulder blades. William’s chest was pressed against Sherlock’s back, the warmth from his body being sucked into William’s. Between the sensation of being pressed against his husband and all of the lights flooding into William’s vision, he closed his eyes, deciding he didn’t need to be overwhelmed.
Right now, he needed to feel the man he was pressed against.
Every time Sherlock tensed at one of William’s movements and every time he relaxed once he got used to the situation was all William wanted to concentrate on. He would squeeze Sherlock’s waist to feel how the man would jolt, move his head to and notice how Sherlock would try to adjust his position so it would be more comfortable for William, and only once or twice he slipped a hand up Sherlock’s loose shirt to feel him stiffen and shudder, knowing that he gasped at the sensation.
William kept his hand there for a while, fingers fanned out across Sherlock’s abs. He could feel the bumps of muscle that poked out from under the skin and as much as he wanted to trace each one, he didn’t want Sherlock getting distracted because that could mean certain doom for both of them. So he simply left his hand there, allowing it to warm against the bare skin.
William wasn’t sure how long it had been when he finally opened his eyes again, not registering the same amount of light compared to when they were driving through the city. However, when he did open his eyes, he noticed that the sun was mostly set, the sky that contained many colors just moments ago now containing nothing but darkness and stars. William looked around, noticing they had made it out of the city and were somewhere he wasn’t quite familiar with.
William poked Sherlock under his shirt in morse code, hoping the other would get the message. Honestly, it was foolish to think that he wouldn’t get the message.
“I took a long way home, we’ll be back in like ten minutes,” Sherlock yelled, turning back to the road. William rolled his eyes. He was foolish to think that Sherlock wouldn’t milk this for all that it’s worth. William removed his hands from under Sherlock’s shirt, figuring the man must be getting cold from all the wind that’s been freely passing across his abdomen. Other than that he kept the same position, nuzzled into Sherlock like he did when they were sleeping in their bed.
Sherlock felt safe to William, his warm body always providing him with enough heat to assure him that he would never let him freeze. Now, it was rather a way of protecting William, reassuring him that Sherlock would make sure that William would go unscathed. That Sherlock had studied all the dangers and was ready to defend William from all of them. It made the uneasiness that William had about the damn motorcycle subside, and he began to hum softly.
He hummed songs that only he and Sherlock would know, hoping that even over the deafening wind that his love would be able to recognize the tune.
The ten minutes passed like this, in peace and serenity. William communicated the way he loved Sherlock through inaudible hums and slight movements in his touches and Sherlock communicated that he understood through changes in his breath and the way he sped up or slowed down. It was something that they shared, something that nobody else could even begin to comprehend. It was this unspoken, intimate feeling about sharing this ride with the love of his life. An intimacy that William knew existed, but hadn’t felt to such an extreme.
William was starting to warm up to the motorcycle, to say the least.
Eventually, they made it home, pulling into their driveway and up into the garage, the motorcycle getting a million times louder now that they were in an enclosed space. Sherlock quickly shut it off though, ceasing the noise and bringing them into silence. William wasn’t too sure how long they stayed like that; William’s arms around Sherlock’s waist and his head resting on his back listening to the bugs chirp loudly in the background, but eventually, it ended, Sherlock being the first to call it off.
“As much as I’d love to sit here with you like this my prince, I really need to take a piss,” Sherlock said. William pinched the man’s side and mumbled something about him being crude before releasing him from his clutches, sitting up straight and stretching. Sherlock quickly dismounted the motorcycle, practically running in the house to go to the bathroom.
William watched him go, left to loudly laugh, wondering how the hell he ended up marrying the smartest fool he knew.
-
After getting ready for a lazy night at home by showering and changing into his pajamas, William ate the leftover spaghetti that Sherlock had eaten earlier. Sherlock tried to ask William to split it with him which made William scoff, asking the man if he thought he was born yesterday. Sherlock made some stupid comment about how William had kind of a babyface which led to them both laughing, knowing that it was very far from the truth. Sure, William looked young, but childlike was a bit of a stretch.
William eventually finished his late-night dinner, tired out from his work and the exhilaration he felt from riding the motorcycle. He made himself a cup of tea, the kind he had been having before bed ever since he lived with his brothers, and sipped it while standing in front of the sink. He started thinking about how he definitely needed to do the dishes tomorrow but felt a presence behind him. Not even a moment later, Sherlock’s arms were around his waist and his head buried in the crook of his neck. William smiled, taking a sip of his tea.
“I thought you said you could go for another motorcycle ride.”
“Yeah well that was twenty minutes ago, I’m a changed man,” Sherlock said into William’s neck. It was ticklish, but it was a nice sort of ticklish.
“Of course Sherly, how could I fail to realize that,” William joked, yawning and blinking slowly. It was definitely bedtime for the two of them, but for now, Sherlock and William swayed gently in the kitchen, William being unable to stop smiling at their reflection in the mirror. They stayed like that in silence for a bit, Sherlock placing a couple kisses on William’s neck as they did. William let out a small bit of laughter, playfully telling Sherlock to stop and pushing him away.
Eventually, Sherlock opened his mouth and bit William, which made William turn his head.
“Sherlock Holmes, I find it hard to believe you that you know when you’ve pushed your limits,” William scolded, hoping that would remind him of how thoughtless he was earlier today.
“You caught me Liam, whatever shall I do now?” Sherlock responded, pressing a couple more kisses to William’s neck.
“Well I think it’s time to go to sleep,” William drank the last sip of his tea, reaching forward to place the cup on the counter next to the sink. He heard Sherlock groan and his grip tightens, and William couldn’t help but think he was a big baby. They had a back and forth stand-off for a little bit, and it wasn’t until William threatened to punch Sherlock in the groin that the man let go.
William turned off the lights in the kitchen and they both made their way up to the bathroom, brushing their teeth while they were half asleep. William almost spits out his toothpaste when he noticed a huge amount of bubbled toothpaste fall from Sherlock’s mouth onto his shirt, and the man saying “aw fuck” with a mouthful of toothpaste. They eventually got done with the menial task, sharing a short, tired kiss afterward.
William then walked to their bedroom, Sherlock following close behind. When they got to the door, William turned around, blocking it off. Sherlock blinked in confusion, being too tired to express anything on his face. William mustered up the best smirk his tired self could muster.
“Remember what I said earlier? You’re on the couch tonight,” William said, staring at Sherlock as he whined.
“You were serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
“C’mon Liam, I said I was sorry,” Sherlock continued to whine, looking at William with a pout.
“Yes, and I said you were not sleeping with me tonight,” William stated firmly. Sometimes he gave in, but tonight was not one of those nights.
“Okay but youuuuu liked riding on the motorcycle you just don’t want to admit that I’ve been right all along,” Sherlock argued. Seriously, it was like arguing with an elementary schooler sometimes. William decided he needed to get even more firm or nothing would happen.
“Sherlock. I’ve made my decision. You upset me today and so now you must pay the price, regardless of how I feel about your godforsaken motorcycle,” William said, which he phrased in such a way on purpose, knowing his foolish husband would pick up on it.
“So you liked it?” Sherlock asked, looking like a puppy, all of the traces of pouting gone from his face. William smiled, opening the door to the bedroom just enough so that he could slip in while still keeping Sherlock out. With a smirk still on his face, William looked at Sherlock dead in the eye.
“I’ll consider allowing you to pick me up next week. Now good night, Sherly.” William said, watching as Sherlock looked at him with that soft smile that he only gave to William. It melted the blonde’s heart each and every time he did, and he regretted being so stubborn right now. That smile meant that Sherlock knew that he understood that William was playing hard to get, that he knew William would do anything for Sherlock to keep him happy.
“Good night my love.”