Work Text:
“No really good sir I can’t thank you enough!”
Sherlock smiled tightly, his eyes darting to the sky as he let the old woman take his hand once more. “We were just doing our jobs, Miss.”
“Oh I know that but surely you don’t expect me to send you off without cooking you a meal as thanks! My girls would have been food for those demons had it not been for the two of you!”
His enhanced hearing picked up the sounds of several girls whispering by the window of the boarding house, no doubt craning to get another look at the men that had cleared their cellar of monsters.
“Where did that pretty partner of yours get to anyhow?”
Sherlock felt his smile falter a tad and he gently pried his hand away from the woman’s eager grip. “He had to run to the shop down the way Miss, I really need to be joining him so I’m afraid we’ll have to enjoy that meal another time.”
The old woman looked ready to object so Sherlock took off his hat and pressed it over his heart, bending slightly to press a kiss to her hand. That seemed to knock her speechless and he took the opportunity to hightail it off the porch, turning to wave to the little girls who were still peeking out from the boarding house windows.
As he saddled up and settled his hat back in place, he tightened the bandana around his neck, blue eyes glued to the sky, now streaked with pink and orange. He rode off without delay, urging his horse into a breakneck gallop, it wouldn’t do to get caught in the dawn.
There was someone waiting for him.
~*~
When he made it to the clearing the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, staying to talk to the old lady at the boarding house had been a bad idea. They had cut it far too close. William was bound to be cross with him when he found out.
With that in mind Sherlock dismounted quickly, plunging into the thick woods with Lily in tow. He led the white mare by her reins on foot, sticking to the trees with the thickest trunks and the most foliage. It was why they had chosen this part of the woods for their temporary home while they attended to business, the North part of this vast country much different from the sparse open plains they were used to. Still, Sherlock’s relief was immense when the covered wagon came into view, the outside camp as well as the wagon’s surface appearing unchanged. Most importantly, a familiar chocolate brown mare was tethered to a tree near the wagon and it snorted in greeting when it noticed Sherlock approaching with Lily.
He hastily tied his horse up with William’s, giving her a distracted pat on the nose and making his way to the wagon quickly. The sky was almost bright blue now, soon even the deepest shade would be laced with patches of sun that could burn him alive if he was careless.
He clambered up into their wagon in a practiced motion, spurs clicking against his boots as he landed inside. “Liam?”
His partner was usually stationed by the entrance of their wagon, it was a practice they both observed when waiting for the other to return from a hunt. But now Sherlock didn’t see him right away, his enhanced eyes adjusting to the darkness and scanning for a familiar shade of blonde. The inside was filled with their clothes and supplies, silver tipped weapons and carefully locked boxes full of holy water and warding salts piled throughout the space. Food for the horses was stored in the wagon’s cool interior as well, but it had been a year or so since they had needed to carry food for themselves.
Not since, well…
“I’m here.”
A low voice reached Sherlock’s ears at the same time as the sound of labored breathing, coming from further back in the wagon. He toed off his boots and moved farther in, brow already creased with worry from the cadence of his partner’s breathing. When he spotted him Sherlock’s stomach twisted with fear. William was laid out on their shared bed roll, the blankets gripped tightly in his hands and sweat on his brow as he struggled to breath evenly.
Fuck, so soon?
Sherlock kneeled by the blankets immediately, reaching for the other’s hands and allowing sharp nails to dig into his skin instead of fabric. William opened his eyes, that crimson red finding Sherlock’s and lighting up in relief. “I-I may have pushed myself a little too far tonight.”
“You should have let me come. You know what happens when you overexert yourself like this.”
But his words only made the other man smile, fangs peeking out behind chapped lips. “Those girls at that boarding house needed someone to protect them in case I failed, Sherly.”
Sherlock shook his head, squeezing the hand that gripped his, “The old woman was so grateful, she wanted to cook us a meal.”
William’s brow smoothed briefly, his eyes shut as if he was imagining enjoying the home cooked meal. “I am only glad that none of those children were harmed.”
Typical of his partner, to think of everyone’s safety save for his own. No, that was up to Sherlock. Or at least, it should have been. “Still, I knew you shouldn’t have cleared a nest that large on your own, it’s been weeks since you’ve fed.”
The two of them were vampires, and as such, had to feed on the blood of another at least once a month, lest they die of starvation. For especially powerful creatures of the night, such as William, this need to feed was more insistent when they used their strength. The two of them had found that exerting large amounts of energy in combat quickened the arrival of hunger pains the most.
Which had proven quite inconvenient seeing as it was their job to hunt down creatures that plagued human settlements everywhere. It had been this way when they were humans, and so it was now that they were no longer of the mortal world. It was their duty as hunters to help the weak and defenseless, protecting them from being preyed upon by the supernatural. Though neither of them were yet accustomed to life as creatures of the night, this at least had not changed.
Only now, with their enhanced physical strength and heightened senses they were better at their jobs, entire nests of demons like the wendigos that had plagued the boarding house falling prey to Liam’s revolvers and Sherlock’s whip. But the increased efficiency came with a price.
Seeing another shiver rack through William spurred him to action, and Sherlock let go of the other man’s hand, pulling off his hat and untying the bandana at his neck. When he had popped open the first several buttons of his shirt he smoothed a hand over his partner’s forehead, “Liam, come on. Drink.”
When William opened his eyes again they immediately landed on Sherlock’s bare neck and his pained expression worsened. “Sherlock, I can hold out. You’ll be weak for days.”
He spoke firmly but Sherlock could see the sheen of hunger in his eyes, could hear the sound of his tongue wetting his lips in anticipation. Liam might want to hold out for a passing animal or a stray criminal, but the part of him that now responded to baser instincts did not agree. Clearly eager for the available blood, sluggish and undead as it was, that ran through his lover’s veins.
“That’s nothing compared to the pain you’ll be in tonight.”
Sherlock leaned over his partner, his braid swinging over his shoulder as he rubbed his thumb over William’s bottom lip. They had discovered that in moments such as this, when there was no other option, the two of them could drink from each other. The only downfall was that for days afterward the one who had been bitten suffered from weakness in their limbs and often took far longer than normal to recover from injuries.
In Sherlock’s opinion, it was a small price to pay considering his hand in his lover’s current state. Yet still William looked up at him with a soft pained look, gently taking hold of Sherlock’s shoulders even while shivering from hunger. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He felt a familiar pain in his chest, how could the other man look at him with such fondness? Fear for his comfort while he himself was in pain? When it was because of Sherlock that William suffered as he did, endured the horrific side effects that came with being a creature of the night that could only consume blood. He didn’t deserve it, it was because of him that William mourned the life they had once led.
It was because of Sherlock’s failure that they were not currently enjoying a home cooked meal with the old woman and the girls at the boarding house. He had been too slow to kill his quarry and he had been turned. And then when he had found William in that inn, he had turned his partner too. Killed him and made him into the vampire he was, forced to live on eternally in this hellish night time existence.
So when he spoke softly, caressing his lover’s lip with the pad of his thumb, it was with complete honesty. “But I want you to.”
William’s eyes widened at this, his fangs extending instinctively as Sherlock spoke softly, red eyes flashing crimson and bright in the dim wagon. “Take all you need Liam.”
He pressed a hand to the back of William’s head gently bringing him closer to his exposed neck. William was fighting his instincts, fangs lengthening as he threw his head to the side to avoid touching Sherlock’s bare skin. “Sherly, stop. Once I start I won’t be able to control it, you know that.”
Sherlock knew. It had been why he had turned William despite never wanting to do anything of the sort consciously. The red haze of hunger and desire that mixed when one of them fed off the other was dangerous, each time it took an unbearably long time to recover one’s full strength. But it was worth it to save his lover from being driven mad with hunger like a wild animal. Pain that William endured because of Sherlock.
He threaded his fingers through the blonde strands and turned William to look at him, holding the other man steady with his other hand on his shoulder. When his lover stilled against the pillow Sherlock bent closer and pressed a soft kiss to his clammy forehead, observing how, when he pulled away, William’s pupils had dilated, only a faint ring of red still visible. His breathing had slowed and his mouth hung open, hot panting breath warm in the cool darkness of the wagon.
There would likely be no more complaints from his partner, that look just about confirmed he would stop resisting the urge any moment now. But just in case Sherlock smoothed his fingers through the other’s hair and spoke, “I’m yours.”
That was the last push he needed. William’s eyes flashed and soon Sherlock found their positions reversed, his head now flush against the pillows. Despite the nature of their new position making Sherlock feel distinctly like prey under William’s gaze, he had to admit the view it afforded was exquisite. Liam’s hair fell about his face, red eyes zeroed in on Sherlock’s neck and his body shaking with need as he opened his mouth wide, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light.
Sherlock turned his head to the side, his eyes closing when he felt the now-familiar sensation of teeth breaking the skin of his neck, penetrating deeper until William’s lips locked over the bite. Then he began to drink from him and Sherlock couldn’t stifle his groan, a heady mixture of pleasure and pain washing over him at every pull of his partner’s lips against his neck. William was not content with the simple act of feeding on him, however, the other man’s hands went to Sherlock’s wrists and held them firmly near his head, pressing closer as he did so.
Instinctively Sherlock spread his legs, welcoming the weight on top of him as William continued to take from him, quiet satisfied noises coming from the blonde latched onto his neck. Sherlock angled his head towards the other, a moan escaping him when William slid a knee between his legs. He watched, arousal growing despite himself as he focused on Liam’s throat working as he fed, color returning to his skin as he did so. It satisfied him, knowing that he at least could provide this for the other man.
As William continued to drink though, Sherlock began to pant, a flush no doubt visible across his face and chest as his partner eagerly took from him. The sensation was more intense than any substance Sherlock had ever abused, the pleasurable feeling of the bite at his neck punctuated by a dull and steady pain that had become addicting over time. His loud panting was now punctuated by small gasping noises, his back arching involuntarily against the other man’s chest as he lost more blood.
Just as Sherlock felt his mind becoming fuzzy William withdrew his fangs, licking intently over the bite as blood welled up. The sensation prompted another soft moan from Sherlock, who strained against the other man’s hold, desperately wanting to gather him into his arms now that he was no longer trembling from hunger. When William felt him fighting his hold, however, he left his neck to snarl at Sherlock, eyes still unnaturally bright and pupils nearly completely black.
Sherlock relented immediately, stilling as he realized his lover’s fangs had not yet retracted. Blood tracked down Liam’s chin and his cheeks were flushed, his blown eyes fixed on Sherlock with a hungry look that told him, despite the initial satisfaction, the vampire above him was by no means finished with him. Sherlock shivered in anticipation when William bent over him, licking his neck once more before moving to suck bruises into his chest, his hands still holding Sherlock down with inhuman strength.
A few sighs left him, his eyes blurring with unshed tears when Liam bit into him again, this time just below his collarbone. His shirt was long torn open and his lover’s wickedly sharp nails dug into his wrists, a sensation that should not have been pleasurable but the fact that it was William made every touch searing. Even as he felt the other man grind into him, Sherlock lay there pliant, William’s movements forcing a weak gasp from his mouth. He could feel his partner’s arousal against his leg and he moaned when William came up for air, licking at the second bite mark with careful attention.
Whenever Sherlock fed on his partner he tended to make a mess, blood all over the both of them and clothes torn to shreds by the time he emerged from the haze of lust and hunger. William was different. His lover enjoyed taking his time to neatly clean every bite mark and disrobe Sherlock piece by piece, ever the gentleman even when his carnal instincts had taken over. If Sherlock was being honest with himself it only added to the arousal that inevitably arose at these times.
When William reached for his belt buckle Sherlock groaned and tried to speak, only to be cut off with a cry when his partner swallowed him down in one go. Liam’s clawed fingers now held his legs firmly against the blankets and he took advantage of the freedom his hands were now afforded, grabbing the pillow behind his head and threading the other through his lover’s hair.
He was lost in the feeling of Liam’s hot mouth surrounding him, brain fuzzy from blood loss and pleasure when he felt slick fingers enter him abruptly. This forced a choked sound from him and Sherlock opened his eyes to speak, struggling around each word as the pleasure became overwhelming. “L-Love slow down, we have a– ah ! All night!”
When he tugged insistently at William’s hair the man eventually pulled off, staring at Sherlock from his position between his thighs, eyes wide and glinting, blood still streaked down his chin. He seemed vaguely disappointed, confusion gracing his handsome features as he stared, apparently not comprehending why Sherlock wanted to stop. The sight was so endearing Sherlock immediately gave in, sighing and loosening his grip as the other man began to nuzzle at his exposed thigh.
He reached up and pulled at his braid, freeing his hair and adjusting the pillow behind his neck with a wince; it was probably wise to get comfortable while he could. William’s teeth scraped over his thigh and Sherlock threw his head back with a whimper when he was bitten again.
It was going to be a long night.
~*~
When he came to, the first thing he noticed was the scent of coppery blood lingering in the wagon. The second was the feeling of strong arms wrapped around him from behind, the sound of low breathing by his ear. It wasn’t unusual to wake up like this but the smell was making his mouth water, they needed to let some air in.
When Sherlock forced his eyes open he had to bite back a groan, pain in his head and a dull throbbing throughout his body making itself known. When he tried moving it quickly became clear his partner would have to get up to uncover the wagon and let some air in, Sherlock’s limbs felt like lead.
Even turning to face his sleeping lover was a momentous effort, a pained noise escaping him as he did. Crimson eyes fluttered open at the sound and despite the persistent soreness he felt all over, Sherlock smiled, drinking in the sight of William waking up. He never grew tired of watching him slowly become aware of his surroundings, whip smart mind sluggish and relaxed in the early hours of the night.
The sight was distinctly bittersweet now, whenever he realized he was forever deprived of the sight of a sun drenched Liam awaking in the morning. The grief he felt for their old life often pinched at his heart painfully, reminders that his carelessness had caused their current situation. Their current existence as creatures of the night, banned from walking under the sun, alongside the humans they called friends and family.
They hadn’t seen their loved ones since Sherlock had turned William, afraid of what might happen if they lost control. For all Sherlock knew they all believed them to be dead.
He sighed and William, now fully awake drew his brows together in concern, voice husky with sleep when he spoke. “Are you alright? How are you feeling?”
Sherlock smiled fondly at him, ignoring the question altogether and satiating himself with the sight of the healthy flush that now graced his partner’s cheeks. If he could lift his arms he would’ve traced the freckle that sat just below his right eye. “I should be asking you that.”
William smiled at him ruefully, his expression falling as his hands thumbed over the numerous bites on Sherlock’s neck and chest. “Why didn’t you stop me last night, I took so much…”
Sherlock nudged forward, settling his head into the crook of William’s shoulder to tear his gaze away from the bites, his voice muffled as he spoke. “I would have if it was too much, I told you to take everything you needed.”
William huffed above him, a hand carding through Sherlock’s mess of curls, “Sherly…”
He laid a soft kiss on the other man’s collarbone, eyes going to the faded bite mark that marred his partner’s fair skin. “You deserve it Liam. You deserve far more than this.”
The man he lay against sighed, no doubt guessing where Sherlock’s thoughts were as his hand continued to smooth through his hair, “We talked about this. You know I would rather spend an eternity by your side than face mortal life without you Sherlock.”
His heart thumped painfully in his chest at the words. Liam had said them countless times before, most memorably during his first conscious moment as a vampire, after he had awoken and fed ravenously on Sherlock’s blood. When he had come to and stared at his strange hands, run his fingers over his own sharp fangs, he had not mourned his human body or shouted at Sherlock in terror. Rather he had cradled the pathetic mess of tears and blood that was Sherlock’s face and kissed him slowly and gently.
Apologizing all the while for not realizing sooner why Sherlock had attempted to push him away in the bar. The whole thing was ludicrous, William apologizing to him after Sherlock had killed his lover and turned him into an undead blood letter. But he was aware that the argument was tired and pointless now, so he merely huffed, content to rest against William’s chest as the other pet through his hair.
Crickets chirped distantly outside the wagon, the sound almost lulling him back to sleep before his lover spoke with a sigh. “We should probably air out the wagon, you’re drooling on me, Sherly.”
Sherlock blinked away the sleep induced haze at that, groaning as William maneuvered him off his chest gently. He watched, one eye open against the pillows as his partner got dressed, appreciating the view of William’s behind in his worn leather pants. “Want me to help?”
His voice was muffled against the pillow and when William turned to face him, now fully dressed, he let out a rare laugh. “I don’t believe you can move right now.”
Stooping he placed a kiss on Sherlock’s head, giving him a fond look that, if Sherlock had had any blood left to spare, would have caused his cheeks to flush. “I’ll take care of it.”
Then he turned to go and Sherlock watched with longing as the other pulled on his boots with ease, a noticeable spring back in his step. But then after pulling open the cover at the wagon’s entrance William turned back, moonlight bathing his face in a silver glow as he smiled at Sherlock. “I’ll be back soon dear.”
Sherlock’s eyes widened at the pet name, his undead heart forgetting to beat as his lover disappeared into the night. He buried his face into the pillow, the sound of the endearment on Liam’s tongue echoing in his ears.
Indeed last night had been worth every ache he now felt. In fact he would endure this feeling a hundred times over if it meant hearing such a rare nickname fall from William’s bloodstained lips.
He suspected the regret he carried for turning the other man would haunt him for the rest of his long life. But Sherlock knew as soon as the moonlight had illuminated his partner’s smile… he would never have been able to live without William.
In his heart of hearts perhaps he was glad that now, they would never be separated.
~*~