I've been sending you a lot of asks lately. ^///^ any who I got a prompt for ya :) uniVictor and uniSherlock take a holiday to where Victor's family owns a huge estate in India my head canon (Manish Dayal) there under the beautiful moonlight Victor asks for Sherlock to stay with him. Sherlock can't leave London he loves it too much. They boys depart make a promise to meet up again. Flash ahead to present day two knocks on the door and Sherlock has no idea who it is .. ( hint it's Victor)
Sherlock was very, very warm, and very, very full of very, very delicious food.
He'd been with Victor for about a week now, lazing about in India with him, spending his break from uni here. His mummy had been very much against letting her boy travel so far without him, and she would have told him absolutely not, if it wasn't for the man sat beside him.
Victor Trevor. He was glorious like this, just after nightfall, when the moon made his skin glow like gold. His eyes were dark, impossibly dark, and Sherlock could feel himself falling into that gaze, until the dazzling smile tugged his head back above water.
Sherlock nursed his racing heart, and Victor's lips parted, his lungs drew breath.
"I want you to stay here, Will," he said softly. "With me." Those dark eyes rounded on Sherlock again.
He was breathless, absolutely floored. Slowly, he shook his head, brow furrowing, staring right back into those eyes. He wanted to say yes, he really, really wanted to. But... "I can't just leave London. I need the city. This is gorgeous, and...and you're...." He shook his head again, looking down at his lap. "My family is there. My career is there."
Sherlock was hurting, but the thing that hurt most was the sad, empty smile on Victor's face as he turned his face up toward the moon.
"I understand. Perhaps it's best if we...part ways, then."
Sherlock pressed his lips together, then reached out to brush his fingertips against Victor's jaw. The older man turned to look at him, curious and confused.
"Promise me you'll look me up if you ever come back," Sherlock said softly, intense aquamarine holding fast against that smoldering dark gaze.
"You act like I'd be able to resist that temptation." Victor's smile was back and it was warm, and Sherlock could taste the heat of it when he leaned forward to steal a few kisses.
Sherlock got on the plane back to London the next day. He didn't cry until he was well out of sight of Victor and Mrs. Trevor. Those sobs were broken, wrenched from his chest like they were being stolen.
"--So, you can clearly tell by the discolouration on the glove's index finger."
Sherlock smiled a small, private smile, turning his head into his perched violin. His fingers moved fluidly over strings, drawing notes from the bow as if it was what he was born to do. He heard a knock at the door and let his eyes fall closed, dismissing John to go get it.
The sound of voices at the foot of the stairs made him stop his music abruptly. Two quick sets of footsteps.
"I'm sorry, Sherlock, he just pushed right past me."
But Sherlock was silent, jaw dropped, brow furrowed. He set his bow and violin back onto its stand, taking just a few hesitant steps closer.
"William." The word was dark and rich, and Sherlock wrapped up in it, storing that single utterance of his name to listen to over and over again later.
"Victor." Sherlock's voice was full of awe and barely-restrained joy. "What are you doing in London?"
"My father wants to open a factory here, in the city. He's letting me stay here, to scope out the area."
"You two...know each other, then?"
John's comment was ignored fully by both men, who were soon crossing the room and throwing themselves at each other. Sherlock caught Victor around the shoulders, digging his bony chin into the turn of his shoulder, closing his eyes.
Somewhere, there was the sound of a door closing.
"It appears your doctor's gone."
"He gets a bit overwhelmed." Sherlock laughed, a deep sound from low in his chest. He pulled back, staring into those dark, dark eyes, looking at his reflection in them. "I've missed you," he whispered, voice tight with emotion.
Victor just smiled that wonderful, life-preserving smile, and leaned forward, bringing their lips together slow and easy, a gentle greeting.
