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"I love you", were the words that slipped from Lord Barok van Zieks' tongue as he buried his nose between his lover's shoulder and neck, finding the warmth beneath the blanket alongside the other man's natural heat irresistible. But his soft pillow suddenly tensed, and the realization of what he had just said soon dawned on him as he widened his eyes, a cold blanket of fear falling over his shoulders.
Herlock Sholmes slowly turned around, regarding him with lazy blinks of his eyes - in fact, he looked as if he had just woken from a deep slumber. His torso completely bare as his pale skin got covered in goosebumps from the cold of his apartment, his frown calculating and unreadable as unruly fair hair dropped down his long face. His lips were still a bright red, bruised and bitten.
"I'm sorry, wot?" Sholmes slurred, eyelashes fluttering as they fought to keep his eyes open, turning to his side to play with one of Barok's strands of purplish hair. Barok let him do so with a warm emotion nestling in his chest, shutting his eyes close at the feeling of Herlock's fingers now gently scratching his lower jaw.
"Nothing. Do forget it", van Zieks responded, taking hold of the hand that scratched him gently and kissing it with lips lingering as much as they could. The detective's hand was so much softer than his, despite all his life-threatening and scientific work. Van Zieks' was torn, bruised, cut, blues and purples colouring the translucent skin, and Sholmes liked them no less. In fact, he buried his cheek into one of them as he let out a displeased groan.
"If you're not going to say it outright, why say it in the first place?" the curious soul inquired, closing his eyes. Those eyes were always so vibrant and understanding, like the spring sun's gentle embrace.
"Merely a slip of the tongue", van Zieks breathed, watching the way Sholmes' brows knitted in thought as he fought to stay awake.
"Hm. You must be suspicious of whether I have enough money to pay rent this month", Herlock deduced, smiling up at the younger as he caught Barok's displeased expression, "And to that I say", he chuckled, "almost."
"You know you're always welcome to ask some funds of me. I would not turn you down", Barok spoke as his hand stroked Sholmes' carefully. Sholmes decided to ignore him though, focusing on his hand that was being pampered.
"Or perhaps... perhaps you are thinking the bee business I've mentioned before is a bad idea."
"Liking a colour scheme and insect hierarchy are not justification enough to enter a profession, Herlock", Barok deadpanned, but his lover's thoughts had already trailed off high into the sky, eyes focused on one particular dot and unblinking.
"Hum... Or you're still thinking of old Mrs Hudson, having seen us rush upstairs giggling like the pair of law-breaking idiots that we are, but I tell you, that woman has seen worse. Far worse", Sholmes monologued, then finally broke into a smile as he noticed his significant other's bored expression, laughing loudly as he threw his arms around Barok's strong neck, grinning toothily, "Seriously, now. I've once dragged a body up the stairs to - "
"I don't need to hear of that again, detective", Barok cut in, content when the detective decided to smile at him instead of going on about the horrific experiment he had conducted.
Herlock kept their eyes locked for what seemed an eternity before reaching down to plant the softest of slow kisses to Barok's lips, mouths moving gently against each other as Barok's chest filled with a lightness he couldn't experience anywhere else, even when recieving tea from his little roommate with her big teal eyes and welcoming smile. He'd questioned whether he truly deserved to be a recipient of such fondness, of such gentle care multiple times, but Herlock would have none of it, dismissing it with a smack of his lips against Barok's and a warning brow raised upon parting with him before continuing to speak about how great bees were and how interesting their division of labour was despite having talked about it hundreds of times, yet there was always that curious spark in the green of his eyes as he flailed his arms about lightly to explain, and Barok would time and time again switch his brain off and watch Herlock Sholmes' face light up.
Herlock pulled back lazily then, tucking a strand of Barok's hair behind his ear as Barok counted the imperfections on the man's face, wordlessly following Herlock's index finger that was slowly travelling towards his nose and closing his eyes tightly and blinking rapidly as he couldn't cross his eyes, a fact Herlock kept capitalizing on. Sholmes laughed whole-heartedly, then traced the unsightly scar of his face lightly as his smile diminished, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"I love you too, Barok, dearest", the man but whispered as he kept retracing the cross on his face nervously, and Barok smiled gently at the exploding warmth in his chest.