(A Little Bit) Selfish

by RyuuKevin

Sherlock is a demon hunter that prefers to be alone more than anything. Who knew that a demon he will stumble upon one day will change his life for the better? Main Pairing: Sherlock x William (Sherliam)

Hey there everyone! I feel like my week has been busy with fics lately. Reading and writing them... whoo! Although it isn't obvious since I do it for other fandoms too... So... yeah... This was supposed to be 3k MAX but it ended up... like this. I hope you all enjoy!

Warning: unedited.

---

(He was a monster

But maybe that wasn't so bad.)

Humans are selfish. That's what Sherlock Holmes believes.

People only want the best for themselves and no one else. Sure there may be exceptions where one was willing to give up everything just for another but he thinks that kind of thought was foolish and at the same time, selfish but in a different way.

Sherlock was no exception. He is human himself so the idea of being selfish doesn't escape him. He is a simple man yet at the same time, he's not. He wants everything that he sets his mind and eyes on.

He is a hunter, a demon hunter to be exact. He works alone, a simple lone wolf that doesn't care for others. Others tried to ask him to join their group but they have zero success so far. His intelligence was wanted but he preferred to do it alone.

"They only want the bounty to themselves," Sherlock grumbled but alas he was the same. He wants it for himself all the same.

So he travelled far and wide, alone. He could take care of himself, his priority was himself. Everything he lost and gained was all up to him and it was a power that he cannot simply give up to anyone.

In the end, he was called a lot of things. Mysterious, strong, an addict, selfish, independent, careless. He was also called being greedy at one point. Sherlock didn't care because in the end, they are all true.

True to what he was called, he was careless. On one warm night, he was attacked by a horde of demons in a small forest. Usually, he could handle small fries pretty damn easily but one of them was sneaky and slightly stronger than the rest. It dug its claws and swiped at his chest, leaving a huge gash on it.

He managed to kill all with difficulty. The wound wasn't deep enough to kill him but hell, he might as well die out of blood loss. He tried to press his hand on his large wound and he hissed at the pain. He looked down and saw blood trickling down his wound. It wasn't a pretty sight.

Sherlock dragged his tired body to wherever his feet took him. He managed to step out of the forest and some sort of relief washed over him when he saw the dim lights not so far ahead. It was a small village.

He treaded forward and tripped along the way. With his sword still strapped to his hip, he thought that maybe he could use it to help him walk. That idea slipped off his mind when he thought it'd cost him a lot to repair if he accidentally breaks it while walking.

And so, he ended up really dragging himself towards the village with great difficulty. He could feel his blood slowly dripping down, leaving a very very obvious trail. He thinks that he'd lure some demons due to it.

He didn't think of it anymore when all he could feel was numbness, his body falling and darkness consuming him whole.

---

Sherlock shot up from where he was lying with cold sweat that he could feel cloth sticking to his skin. He looked down and saw that he was out of his messy shirt and was replaced with a worn out one that wasn't his. He was on a small but firm bed in a hut perhaps.

An unusual sight made his eyes furrow. Where was he?

"Ah, you're awake."

Sherlock immediately looked to his right and saw a man standing by the doorway with a tray in his hands. From his view, he could only see a cup on it. The man's platinum blonde hair didn't strike anything in his memory so he was a new person and he immediately raised his guard.

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked with an edge to his tone.

The other man set the tray down by the table, unaffected by the hunter's hostility, "I'm John H. Watson. I'm a-"

"Doctor."

"I'm sorry?" John's response was filled with shock and curiosity.

"You're a doctor," Sherlock said as he observed the other, "A demon hunter but you practice healing more."

John let out a surprise laugh as he sat down on a wobbly chair. That doesn't look too safe. "Yes, I am," he said excitedly, "How did you know?"

"I merely observed."

John eyed him but nodded, "You're really observant, then."

Sherlock grunted and tried to get out of the bed until John stopped him from doing so.

"What?"

"Don't," the doctor said, "You'll reopen your wounds."

The lone hunter looked down on himself and saw the worn out shirt staining bright red just around his chest. He almost forgot that he was injured. Raising his shirt, he checked his wound and saw that it was neatly bandaged with a slight stain to it.

"You're good," Sherlock commented but then looked up, "How much for this?" He didn't want to pay but he also didn't want to seem like a full blown asshole.

"Don't worry about it," John said, "It was Miss Hudson who saw you lying in the pool of your own blood and I was willing to help. Really, I was surprised you could even survive in that state!"

Ouch. Well, his words held some truth. "Who's that?"

"Ah, she let me live in her place for a small fee," the doctor said as he motioned his arms around him. He then pointed to the tea cup on the tray, "For now, you should rest. You can have that tea. It has medicine in it for your wounds."

Sherlock tried to hide his suspicious glint on the cup. He felt that the other man was genuinely nice and was trying to help so he took it after a few moments. He drank a tentative sip until he frowned. His reaction earned an amused sound from the doctor.

"I'm sorry," John said with a smile, "The bad taste is the medicine."

The hunter glared but continued drinking anyways. Once he finished the cup, John urged him to rest some more but he was a tad bit restless.

"Where are we?"

"Hong Village," John said, "They said that the one who built this village from the ground up was someone from a different country hence the foreign name."

After John left him alone, Sherlock eyed the stained window that was just beside him. He couldn't clearly see the outside but the sun was bright and there were people moving around and about. It looked like a peaceful and happy place to be in.

He frowned ever so slightly. He was used to running around and having no sense of home despite being called out by his brother to return 'home' at some point. He'd rather go out on adventures, sleeping on pavements or grass, hunting for his own food and fighting for his life.

He sighed and laid back down. Maybe settling in one day wasn't so bad.

---

His stays lingered from night to day. It also soon ended up being in months. The hut where Miss Hudson and John were residing has another spare room. Smaller than the other two rooms but with Sherlock's adventurous spirit, he didn't usually stay indoors.

Of course his experiments on multiple things ended up being dumped in John's room.

Sherlock has met Miss Hudson after a few days of his stay. She let him stay for free since he was injured but after he was healed, he had to pay a small fee since he shared with John. The three of them lived quite well together despite the arguments Miss Hudson and Sherlock have with John acting as the mediator.

Sherlock didn't mind having somewhere to return to after his adventures. When he realized that he enjoyed the company was shocking and weird to him. He was in denial at first but he soon realized that he was just acting like a brat.

But he didn't admit that out loud.

His adventures turned from a solo mission to being with John every now and then. He wasn't used to it but he was immediately put to ease knowing and seeing that John can clearly handle himself without any assistance.

"Make sure to return by nightfall," Miss Hudson warned, "I still need someone to pay the rent."

She always says that when Sherlock says that he wanted a 'short detour' aka a dangerous place to wander around, to some places he has never been to with John tagging along the way. It was almost like it was just a sign of worry in her own way.

They go far and wide in searching for different and unique things. It always excites John whenever he finds a rare herb that he can use for medicine while Sherlock searches for things that can sell nicely or it can be used as an experiment.

Once they went home, they huddled around the dining area to recheck the contents of their sacks. Even Miss Hudson learned a thing or two from them as they eyed each item that can be determined as junk or not.

This is the kind of routine that they slowly fell into. It kept them busy and fit, lively even. Sherlock has even gotten to know other residents as he maneuvered his way around town.

One day, some news arrived that piqued the hunter's interest.

"Have you heard? The demon king burned down a village!"

Sherlock was looking around the village to see if there are any interesting wandering merchants but his ears caught something else instead. He approached the two chatting old men that had fear in their eyes.

He patted their shoulders with a grin, "Hey, hey. What did I hear about a demon king?"

The two old men jumped in surprise but sighed in relief when they saw a familiar and not-so-friendly face.

"Ah, Sherlock. It's just you."

"Sherlock, are you perhaps interested in hunting the demon king?"

The hunter did think that it will be an interesting case to deal with. A demon king is probably far more powerful compared to the other weaklings that he encountered but how hard could it be?

"Yeah," he ended up replying, "Why did the king burn the village?"

The old man replied, "We don't know why but I believe they have angered him."

"I heard someone managed to land a blow on him but everyone died to even confirm it," the other added.

"Hm," Sherlock hummed. That wasn't exactly impossible. They are still demons and they aren't immune to any damages so there are chances he got hurt along the way. He then asked, "Say, where's the village he burned?"

The old man pointed in a direction, "South. It's quite far from here and you need to pass a village before that."

"Are you going, Sherlock?"

Sherlock grinned wolfishly, "Maybe." Oh, he so will.

---

"You're what?"

Miss Hudson had her arms folded to her chest as she sported a deep frown on her 'eternal' young face. Sherlock winced at the loud tone but dared to look her in the eye anyways.

"I'm going to look for the demon king," Sherlock repeated.

"Why?"

The hunter grinned, "He seems like an interesting fellow."

John then appeared from his room and sported a deep frown as well, "You're going to risk your life just because he's interesting?"

"Maybe," Sherlock said, "When you put it that way, it sounds bad."

"It is bad," Miss Hudson stressed.

"It'll be fine," Sherlock waved his hand dismissively, "I'll be on my own."

"I'm coming with you," John said firmly.

"No, you're not," the hunter glared at him, "It's too dangerous."

"It's even more dangerous when you're going to go alone!"

"It's not!" Sherlock exclaimed, "I'll merely observe and nothing more. I don't have the strength to actually kill the thing."

Miss Hudson and John looked at each other before sighing. Knowing that the hunter before them was an extremely hard-headed man, mostly when he sets his mind on something, they cannot do anything to persuade him to change his mind.

"Fine," Miss Hudson huffed, "If you get hurt then don't expect us to help you."

Sherlock ended up grinning. He knew that was a bluff but didn't call her out on it.

Despite their argument, they ended up eating dinner that was prepared by Miss Hudson herself. The two acted like it would be Sherlock's last dinner with them. Are they seriously thinking that he'll die? He almost felt offended about it.

The next morning, Sherlock was already packing his sack for his travels. It was a long trek away from his home but he was used to it. He merely packed his cigarettes, matches, some towels, money and water. He could buy small food when he visits the next village.

"Travelling light?" John asked as he entered Sherlock's room.

"Yeah," Sherlock replied as he fixed his clothes. His black dress shirt was new (since the old one was stained with too much blood) and his usual pants were the same old pair when he traveled. He strapped his sword to his hip. He was ready to go.

The two men ventured their way to the dining area where breakfast was already prepared. Sherlock could feel the same air of 'it's his last meal' yet again. He just sighed and sat right across from Miss Hudson.

"Make sure to inform us when you arrive," Miss Hudson said.

The hunter shrugged as he drank his tea, "Sending letters are too expensive."

Sherlock held in a snort when he heard the woman say 'cheapskate' and proceeded eating in silence. Now, it really feels like he'd be attending a funeral sooner or later. After they finished their breakfast, Sherlock made his way outside until someone called him from behind.

"Sherlock. Catch!"

With fast reflex, the hunter raised his hand and grabbed the pouch that was flying towards him. He looked at John, the one who threw the pouch, and back at the item. He opened it and saw a few bottles that contained different and slightly questionable liquids.

"Medicine," the doctor said, "In case something happens."

Sherlock closed the pouch and stuffed it in his sack. He then grinned at John, "Many thanks. I'll see you guys soon."

Soon, huh. He never said that until now.

The two waved at him goodbye, both with worried expressions but they knew that Sherlock can handle himself. He gave a half hearted wave as he walked towards the exit of the village.

---

Sherlock huffed as he dropped himself on the grassy area that was near the entrance to the other village. He leaned back on a trunk that gave him enough shade to protect himself from the scorching heat. He should've left a bit earlier.

He grabbed a flask of water from his sack to take huge gulps. He was only a few miles away from the village but he's tired. He didn't realize that his body adjusted quickly to the more relaxed life that he has experienced in Hong Village.

He stuffed his flask back as he watched a few travellers walking on the dirty road. They looked like they were heading to the other village, sweat trickling down their faces under the heat but they didn't look like they were about to take a break like he did.

Sherlock clicked his tongue and looked away. It's not like he actually gives a damn. The people that he cares about (the ones he likes to admit) are the people from the Hong Village, especially John and Miss Hudson. The rest makes him feel indifferent.

The area he was resting in was clear and open, a good place to be at so he wouldn't be ambushed but at the same time, he had limited choices on where he could hide from said ambushes.

But he merely shrugged it off as he got up from the grass when he felt like that he wouldn't burn to death by the sun as he walked. When he got up however, he felt like something was watching him. As soon as a shiver ran down his spine, his sharp eyes looked around and saw…

Nothing.

Sherlock clicked his tongue in annoyance. Great, he somehow attracted some random entity when he's just merely resting. He doubted it was human since he saw no sign of life anywhere. He immediately carried his sack over his shoulder and trekked back on the road so he could finally examine the village.

---

Sherlock arrived at the village when the sun was setting, almost nightfall. He didn't feel whatever was watching was following him so he relaxed just a tiny bit. The village he was in right now was slightly bigger than Hong Village and it was filled with different people walking around like nothing was wrong.

He then marched towards the different stalls that were stationed there. Food, weapons, and such are being sold here and there. He looked around if something caught his interest but clicked his tongue when the weapon seemed like it was made of poor quality.

He then just grabbed whatever cheap food that looked edible and proceeded to walk around. He noticed some familiar faces of the wandering merchants that passed by Hong Village a few days ago along with the travelers that passed by him earlier. What a small world.

The hunter proceeded to wander around with his almost bland meat on a stick until someone from behind called out to him. He whipped his head around, tense, and saw a familiar face so he relaxed immediately. He stopped in his steps for the other to catch up.

"Lestrade," Sherlock greeted.

"Sherlock," George Lestrade greeted back, "What are you doing here?"

Lestrade is a demon hunter as well but more of the righteous one and follows the law unlike the ways Sherlock does his own hunting. They have a strong mutual respect for each other despite the differences.

"I'm here to check something," the other hunter replied vaguely, "Just passing by."

Lestrade lifted a brow, "Knowing you, you're interested in the latest burning of the whole village that's not too far from here."

Sherlock laughed, "How perceptive. I'm proud of you."

"I appreciate it," Lestrade replied blandly, "So? What will you do?"

"Nothing," the hunter shrugged, "The demon king just interests me."

"No ulterior motive?"

"None. Did you expect me to beat that with ease?"

"I know you're willing to try," Lestrade replied with a pointed look.

Sherlock grinned widely and said nothing. Really, Lestrade knew him too well. In the end, he waved his hand dismissively, "See you there." He didn't even wait for the older hunter to reply before leaving him in the busy street.

He continued to walk around town with a toneless hum. His eyes looked from left to right. He didn't say anything about it earlier but he felt the similar gaze piercing him from behind while he was talking to Lestrade. The familiar chill running down his spine while talking was an indication of that.

"Tch," Sherlock frowned when he could still feel it. What the hell was that entity after? He casually looked back and saw no one actually looking at him. Well, there were one or two but they had a look of confusion rather than wanting to kill him or eat him up.

He then averted his gaze in front of him yet again. What a pest, he immediately thought. He then checked his sack to see if he still had money. He grinned when he saw that he has more than enough to stay the night in a cheap inn rather than sleeping under a tree or somewhere safer. Also, he hoped that it can lessen the… prying gaze of whatever it is.

Sherlock made his way to the cheapest looking inn that he could find. Well, something that doesn't look dirtier than out on the streets, of course. It even had a small restaurant from what it looks like outside. He entered the humble establishment and there was only a young girl greeting him at the counter.

"Restaurant or a room?" She asked. Wow, so much for a polite greeting.

"Room," the hunter replied as he took out his small pouch of money, "Can I also buy dinner and bring it upstairs?"

The girl nodded, "I'll bring it for you."

Sherlock just mumbled in thanks as he followed the girl to lead him to his room. He noticed that the gaze on him was no longer there. He snickered internally. So whatever was that, doesn't like a shabby place like this? He should've come here earlier.

He only gave a nod in acknowledgement when the girl opened the door to his room for him and reminded him that she'll bring his food in a few moments. He scanned the area and saw it was fairly small with a low table and pillows at the center, his bed was being covered by a modest screen to have some 'privacy'. He clicked his tongue. It was like those ancient times in China or Japan that he saw before.

Sherlock dropped his sack on the low table and plopped down on the pillow. Well, it was better than camping outside. Even if he was used to it, it doesn't mean that he actually liked it. After a few minutes, someone knocked on the door and he was relieved that it was the girl. She brought his food and complementary tea.

Once she left him alone, he double checked to make sure the refreshments were safe. He wasn't exactly buddies with many people and there were more than a few times that people attempted to take his life due to his 'shitty attitude' but he didn't care. It was part of the thrill.

He looked out the small window that was letting the moonlight in his room. It seemed like a good night. He did a last check and proceeded to eat. He relaxed even further when he cannot feel anything watching him anymore.

Ah, he misses Hong Village already.

---

Sherlock stirred from his sleep when he could hear loud banging from downstairs. His sleepy eyes were glaring around his room and saw that his room was intact so what the hell was that? He got up from the small bed and lazily walked towards the low table.

More banging could be heard downstairs and this made Sherlock frown. Who the hell is creating such a damn mess early in the damn morning? He looked out the window and saw that the sun was shining brightly but not too hot. Early indeed.

Seeing that, however, made Sherlock fix himself up so he could get back on the road already. He didn't want to meet the scorching heat like he did yesterday. He went to the bathroom to do his business and wash his face so he'd look more human than a demon himself. Hah.

Once he was done, the ruckus was now accompanied with yelling. He doesn't think he'd have a peaceful breakfast in the restaurant downstairs at this rate. He took one last look around his room and grabbed his sack, leaving the room.

As he descended, the ruckus got louder. A scream of 'I dare you say that again!' and 'Fucking trash' or just more profanities, the hunter just held in a sigh. He feared for the establishment thinking that it'd collapse at this rate.

When he approached the counter, the same girl from last night just had a face of defeat and checked him out of his room. He didn't bother to ask what was happening or why isn't she doing anything. He glanced at the restaurant entrance and saw two figures that were unscathed while other burly men were lying down unconscious.

One was tall with dark spiky hair. He had a cigarette on his lips and his white gloves were tainted with red, possibly the blood of his 'victims'. The other was much shorter and younger looking but he couldn't see his face clearly with that scarf around his neck and it was enough to hide the bottom half of his face.

Sherlock had to avert his gaze when the shorter one looked at him in the eye briefly, a familiar chill ran down his spine.

Sherlock tends to be curious about a lot of things but he'd rather not delay his travels to something so trivial like a fight so he left the inn without giving a damn about those two but he tucked the memory of their faces at the back of his mind.

He looked around the area and there were less people than last night but it must be because it was still early. He dismissed the thought and made his way towards a comfortable restaurant to eat at.

---

Sherlock huffed as he walked down the familiar dirty path towards the burned down village. He was still far away but he could smell something burnt. Burnt wood and… corpses. It definitely wasn't pleasant and it has gotten worse as he walked each step closer towards his destination.

He was already too far away from the other village to turn back now but he really couldn't hide the way his face contorted in disgust just from the smell. Maybe it's better that way since he saw a demon or two running away from the area.

Or maybe because they could feel a demon king's aura wafting around the air as well.

He looked up at the sky and was surprised that the sun was forgiving today. It must be because he's going somewhere that exactly wasn't safe and he might just die there instead from the heat.

He had to remember that Lestrade and a couple of hunters will be there. Knowing Lestrade, it was a mission that he received from the kingdom or something but Sherlock doesn't care for the kingdom at all but hey, he could run away while they're fighting the demon king.

Sherlock immediately snorted at the thought. He never runs away. He somehow loves running into danger and even had the gall to shrug nonchalantly as he sported a life threatening wound on his body. He was stubborn enough to live through multiple of those.

As his mind wanders hours later, he is met with an even stronger scent of burnt wood and corpses that he sometimes encounters travellers who turned back from the direction. Their faces looked green and were holding in their vomits just from the stench of it. Oddly enough, this made Sherlock even more excited. He was getting closer.

The more he walked, the more he could see black remnants of the fire on the path. It must be large enough to reach at that point. He darted his eyes around and saw nothing suspicious.

From a distance, he could already see someone standing by the burned down arc of the entrance of the village. If Sherlock had to guess, it's to keep anyone unwanted out but the man is what he didn't expect.

"Lestrade!" Sherlock called out when he knew he was in earshot.

Lestrade immediately turned around to face him, "Here I thought you went ahead."

"I like to take my time."

The older hunter held the urge to roll his eyes. He then gestured towards the ruined village, "Nothing was spared, unfortunately."

"Are there any survivors?"

"None," Lestrade replied with a frown, "No one managed to escape. If someone did, they didn't go too far."

Huh, maybe that's where all those black remnants from earlier were from the people who tried to escape. He scrunched up his nose as the two of them made their way inside the village. The place was foul but it could be worse, Sherlock believes. Lestrade ordered someone to keep watch by the entrance while he's with Sherlock.

The two of them looked around. Some houses were still up while the others crumbled to dust. The area had soot on the ground and Sherlock frowned at the sight of charred or unrecognizable corpses littered around. It probably happened at night where most people are out.

"How could someone do this?" Lestrade managed to say. His face looked grim.

"It's a demon we're talking about," Sherlock responded, "A king, no less. They're always out for blood." 'Although humans are no different' was left unsaid.

"Hm," the older hunter pondered, "Well, I suppose you're right. I managed to order the others to look around the area. It couldn't have gone too far."

They looked to their right and saw it was a small forest. Lestrade may have a point.

"You're talking about its injuries?" Sherlock drawled after a moment, "It's not like something as simple as that could stop it. It's already been a day or two. Hell, it might even be in the next village."

Lestrade's face was unreadable, "The next one is a small town."

The hunter cursed under his breath. Of course it's a fucking town next over. He rubbed his temples harshly. Well, now he knows that a king is a pain whether it's human or not. Sherlock looked around, "I'll leave for town immediately. I might find something."

"On your own?" Lestrade asked incredulously, "That's dangerous!"

"I know but it's not like any of your men are skilled enough either."

Lestrade fell silent. That is true. While the older hunter is skilled, his men are average in comparison. Even Lestrade admits that he is average compared to Sherlock's skills and even the latter couldn't face a demon king.

Lestrade sighed, "Fine. We'll investigate here for a few more hours and we'll catch up to you."

"Good idea," the hunter said in a very unconvincing tone, "Now, where-"

Sherlock paused when he could feel the unsettling chill yet again. He might as well look mad as he quickly whipped his head to see if there were any suspicious figures. He glared when he noticed a shadow leaving from the village's exit and headed towards the forest.

"Wait!" Sherlock shouted and dashed towards the retreating figure, his grip on his sack tightened to not lose it on the way.

Lestrade tried to run after him, "Sherlock, what- Where are you going?!"

The latter briefly looks back to shout, "I'm going ahead! I'll meet you in town!"

"Wha- That's the wrong way!"

---

Sherlock huffed heavily after he jumped down from a branch that felt like it was about to give in his own weight. He shifted his sack to his other shoulder to walk to the clearing. He managed to encounter low class demons along the way, losing the shadow that was spying on him since the other village.

He was pissed off since the sun had set and it was nightfall. It's now even harder to look around and easier for demons to move around to attack any lost or wandering people that's near their territory. If he could say, he was pretty damn lucky to reach a clearing before the night consumed the whole area.

Sherlock clicked his tongue when he saw nothing. There weren't any lingering gazes on him anymore so the shadow has truly left him alone. He was fucking tired and he had zero results. That frustrated him more than anything.

He recalled that Lestrade said he was going the wrong way but all he did was laugh unironically when he could see a town nearby as he looked for somewhere to lean on to rest. Literally, the shadow is either a guardian or just a demon simply trapping him there.

The sensation felt familiar as he dragged his tired and heavy body towards a large rock so he could rest. He didn't have the energy to trek towards the town. As of right now, it is starting to look more and more far away.

He then squinted hard, desperate to have his vision, and saw a shape of what looks like a huge rock.

When he finally reached the huge rock, he leaned his back on it and slid down with no grace and plopped down on the grass. His eyes didn't adjust to the dark yet so he couldn't see things too clearly. He let out a sigh of relief when he could rest.

He closed his eyes, feeling drowsy already. He knew that he shouldn't sleep but man is it hard to stop it. Sherlock tried to check if it was safe to lie down on the ground when his fingers brushed something warm and soft. He almost let out an undignified yelp due to it.

Sherlock forced his eyes to look around and to look for whatever that he touched accidentally. After a few moments, he felt the same thing again. He stood up hastily.

Was there someone? Or was it only a part of a body?

He shook his head on the last thought. If it was a separate limb, it would've gone cold by now. He hit his head when he realized that he packed some matches in his sack. How could he forget such a thing?

"Where is it?" he mumbled to himself as he opened the sack and rummaged around. He grinned when he felt the familiar box and brought it out. He took one and lit up, illuminating a small area.

He moved it around to find whatever that he touched on the ground. He immediately stilled when he saw a hand when he moved the match up. It looked like it still had some life in it so he resumed to move the match up.

White dress shirt that was torn up at his torso, blood drying up on the poor material. From the torn area, Sherlock could see some slashes that could be only from claws. He moved up and his breath slightly hitched.

Beautiful, is what Sherlock thought guiltily. It wasn't the appropriate time and place to think of it but he couldn't help it. The person lying down right now captivated him in some way. He had his eyes closed, fair complexion and bright blond hair. He almost looked regal. Truly, what a sight. It was slightly ruined due to the torn up dress shirt that the man sported.

He immediately checked if he was… whole. Sherlock was relieved that everything seemed to be intact. It won't be surprising if the person had a missing limb or two due to his state and the place he fainted at.

His eyes darted from the pretty man to the town. It might not be too far… right? Leaving someone injured alone in the night would guarantee the blond's death. He clenched his teeth before bracing himself. Sherlock tried to securely tie his sack to his person and carefully carried the wounded person bridal style. Very carefully, if he may add.

"Goddamn," he cussed as he felt his feet aching although he was surprised that the man was light, "When the hell did I get infected by John's goody two shoes attitude?"

Normally, he wouldn't give a damn. But here he was, in pain as he carried someone to town. He'd most likely get looks from other people but he has a thick face when the situation calls for it. He grunted and mentally complained as he made his way to town.

Fucking hell, he really needs a cigarette right now.

---

Sherlock immediately ignored the way people eyed them as he walked through the busy streets with a clenched jaw. They seemed curious but not surprised at the fact that someone was carrying an injured person. Must be a normal occurrence.

He quickly made his way to an inn that didn't look as shabby as the other village but it still looked cheap. It even has a restaurant connected to it. Was it a trend these days? Hong Village should make one soon.

He opened the door with slight difficulty. A young woman was behind the counter and Sherlock suddenly felt like he was in the other inn. He shrugged the thought off and approached the counter while the woman looked at the newly entered pair incredulously.

"One room please," Sherlock quickly said, disregarding her stare, "And one set of dinner."

The woman was still eyeing him, unmoving. Sherlock doesn't know whether it was a judging stare but from the looks of it, she was looking at the way the blond in his arms was still except for his chest heaving up and down, his blood stained shirt and Sherlock himself.

Looking unfriendly doesn't help in such cases, huh.

Another moment passed and she moved her hand under the counter to grab a key to a room, "I will bring your dinner up. Would you like me to help you to your room?" She was still looking at the blond cautiously.

Thank fucking god. Sherlock nodded, "Yes. Thanks."

Sherlock quietly followed the young woman upstairs. They turned a right the moment they stepped foot on the second floor and walked a few more steps before stopping on the third door. She unlocked it and opened for the pair. Sherlock then walked towards the bed without much thought and gingerly set the blond down.

He looked back and the woman approached him with his key, "I'll be right back for your dinner." She left without waiting for the hunter's response.

Sherlock sighed and double checked if the room was locked before setting his sack and sword down on the low table. It was another one of those kinds of inns. He shrugged it off and checked the bathroom. He was surprised when there was already an empty small basin with some black cloth in it.

He guessed that this inn usually gets injured customers to rest and heal in this inn. He grabbed the cloth and filled the basin with water. The temperature was alright, better than cold, dirty water. He slung the cloth on his shoulder and brought the basin outside.

He walked over to where the sleeping blond was lying down. Well, he assumes that he was sleeping as he could see the chest rising and falling at a normal pace. When he set the basin down, he dropped the cloth in there.

He suddenly hesitated at the next step.

Sherlock glanced at the unconscious figure and saw, with relief, that he wasn't bleeding from his injury anymore. He doesn't know if he was crazy but he swore that the cut was bigger earlier. He squinted at it to see if he wasn't getting delirious late at night but he might as well move his hands already.

His fingers twitched in hesitance but he solidified his determination. It was for a good thing, for fuck's sake. He shook off the feeling and started unbuttoning what's left of the man's shirt. At the back of his mind, he thought of buying some clothing in town the next day.

He slid the material off the man's shoulders gently and raised his arm to take it off. He would've just ripped it apart but he felt like the blond wouldn't appreciate such a brutish way to handle the situation. His touches were light and gently, hoping his actions wouldn't wake the man.

Sherlock tried to focus and not let his eyes wander around. He knows that the blond had a lithe body but there are some defining muscles here and there but he tried not to dwell on it. He looked at the gash and it does look smaller than earlier.

Still, he wrung out the cloth that was in the water and gently wiped the man's shoulders, chest and slowly over his wound. It was to clean the blood that was staining on the fair skin and might as well let the blond freshen up somehow. Once he was done, he dropped the cloth back into the basin and tried to see if there were any robes in the room.

He found it in a cabinet but only saw one. He doesn't mind sleeping in his clothes right now or he could go shirtless to wash the dirt off his shirt right now. He grabbed the robe and placed it on the bed before finding the pouch of medicine that John gave him before.

Sherlock looked at the man and then at a bottle. Will the medicine even work on him? He surely doubts that the blond was a man but he shrugged and twisted the bottle open. It had no scent, much to Sherlock's surprise. He gingerly applied the medicine on the man's wounds and he didn't even flinch in his sleep.

Once he was done, he grabbed some bandages that he got and wrapped the blond with it. It might be a waste but it doesn't matter. He could buy another bundle or two in the next town or village over. He then looked down at the lower part of the man as he pursed his lips. Should he take it off?

Starting with the man's shoes, he took it off. It was like he was delaying the inevitable. Then, he started unbuckling the undeniable good quality belt. Was the blond rich, he wondered. He didn't dwell on it further as he unbuttoned the man's pants while looking away. He took a deep breath before doing everything quickly. From stripping the man bare, leaving his underwear to clothing him with the fresh white robe provided by the inn. He might've seen a thing or two but even the hunter was thoroughly embarrassed by it.

As he tied the string of the robe so it could be firmly placed, he sighed in relief. Then, realization dawned on him when he could've put the man's robes first so he wouldn't see anything or be embarrassed by all of it.

He has to do the hard way, huh?

Making sure that he didn't reopen the wound with his haste movements, he retreated to the bathroom with the basin and cloth. The water was already stained and he hanged the cloth somewhere away. He threw the water and watched it go down the drain. Seriously, what the hell is he doing? Carrying a stranger to town, checking in an inn, and dressing their wounds. What was up with him?

He sighed deeply as he exited the bathroom after he fixed himself. He already had his shirt off so the cool air coming from the open window chilled his skin slightly. He hoped that his shirt would dry off by tomorrow.

When his dinner arrived, the woman averted her gaze when Sherlock answered the door shirtless. It's not like he could do anything about it now to save the woman's face, he just said a curt thanks and got the tray off her hands.

He then checked his meal like usual and when he deemed it was safe, he started digging in. As he ate, he looked around and thought that the pillows around him might be enough to save his neck from aching as he slept on the floor. His back couldn't be saved however.

What a fun night.

---

Sherlock groaned in pain when he woke up. He stands corrected. The pillows did not save his neck from aching at all. It might've even caused more pain that he should've felt. He got up from the floor as he tried to ease the cracking bones or well, what feels like cracking. Honestly, he paid for the room but he's the uncomfortable one.

But to be fair, the injured couldn't sleep on the floor.

Speaking of injured, with a sleepy glance, he checked the bed and saw the blond was still sound asleep. It didn't even look like he moved an inch from when he saw his position was last night.

Sherlock was quite relieved, however. He thinks he couldn't bear to explain the situation early in the morning. Thinking of checking the blond's bandages, he approached the bed quietly. He just wanted to make sure if the injury needs to be redressed, okay? He licked his lips before he gently gripped onto the front of the robes to pry it open.

He only moved it by an inch until he froze when an unfamiliar melodious voice echoed in the room.

"Oh? Isn't it too early in the morning for this?"

Sherlock's gaze slowly looked up and locked eyes with sharp red eyes. It held some tiredness, amusement and curiosity. He almost couldn't move from the heat of the other's gaze until those soft lips slowly formed into a sly smile.

"Eager then, are we?"

Sherlock snapped out of the trance and immediately let go of the man's robes. He backed away from the bed with a face that he guessed was now contorted with soft fury, confusion and embarrassment.

It felt like he was caught red handed.

"I wasn't going to do anything bad!" Sherlock defended since the blond's smile didn't go away at all.

"Oh?" was the only thing the blond said as Sherlock could feel those red eyes raking up his shirtless figure from head to toe. It sent exciting, unusual shivers down the hunter's spine.

"Yeah," Sherlock said, voice surprisingly steady, "I was about to check if your injuries healed."

The blond looked at him with an unreadable expression before looking down on his figure. He slightly opened his robes and true to the hunter's testament, there were bandages around him. From the small view, Sherlock could see that the bandages were fine and no blood seeped out from it. Either the medicine was very effective or the blond was simply not human.

After a few beats, the blond looked up and his lips formed a small smile, "Thank you."

Taken back by the change, Sherlock nodded awkwardly, "It wasn't much."

The blond still eyed him with intensity until he finally said, "Although, that doesn't explain why you're shirtless."

Sherlock stumbled in surprise and hotly replied, "My clothes are still wet from washing it!" He glared at the blond but the heat lessened when all the other did was chuckle, clearly amused by the hunter's outburst.

"I apologize for jumping into conclusions then," the blond said, voice clearly not sorry at all.

The hunter clicked his tongue before turning his back on the other, "You look fine. I'll get food for us."

"Looking like that?"

"Yes."

Sherlock didn't stand long enough to hear more of the amused chuckle that was directed at him. Once he went down, he ignored the looks from other patrons as he ordered his food at the counter. Honestly, he didn't want to be in this situation but somehow fate hates him lately.

Maybe he should get another pair of clothes too.

After a few minutes of more prying gazes, he returned to his- their room. He noted that the blond was sitting up on the bed, looking out of the window. There wasn't much entertainment so he couldn't blame him.

He sat by the table and propped his elbow on it as he gazed at the blond at a probably longer time than normal. Feeling that he was being stared at, the blond averted his eyes from the window and locked it with Sherlock's.

"Do you have something in mind?"

"What's your name?"

Those red eyes widened ever so slightly but his expression returned to neutral quickly. "William."

"Sherlock," the hunter responded. The blond's name didn't ring a bell even if it was quite a common name.

William smiled, "I apologize for my rudeness. I believe I haven't thanked you yet for helping me."

Sherlock's eyebrow twitched. For what reason, he didn't know. He ended up sighing and waved his hand dismissively, "It's nothing."

"Surely it isn't," the blond replied, "Taking an injured man in an inn… and a stranger no less."

"I expected for you to be more guarded though," Sherlock said, "Aren't you worried what I might do to you?"

A fine brow was raised, amused, "Helping a stranger out doesn't scream dangerous, Sherlock."

Well, Sherlock did have to admit that he has a point. "What if I changed my mind?"

"Will you?"

The two of them stared at each other briefly until the hunter cut the eye contact off with a scoff, "I'm not that kind of man."

William simply smiled again, "I figured."

The hunter couldn't think of how to reply to that. Why was the blond too trusting? Either he knows that Sherlock is not a threat or he's simply blind to trust anyone and everyone. The latter didn't seem possible since William doesn't look like he could be easily fooled.

"Aren't you going to ask why I helped you?"

The blond slightly tilted his head, "Why, then?"

The way the blond smiled as he asked that was easy. It seemed like he just wanted to entertain the hunter's thoughts rather than seeking the real answer because in reality, Sherlock himself didn't know why he opted to help the blond. He could just simply leave him alone and forget him immediately but somehow something drew him in.

And he wanted to know.

Sherlock looked at him intently with an easy smile of his own, "Well, I guess you could say you piqued my interest." He hoped that creeping up on an injured body and taking interest doesn't come out as too weird.

It's just that he was interested in how he became like that. All battered up and everything but still look… like something. Sherlock doesn't know yet.

"Oh?" the blond said, "I'm glad, then."

Sherlock's eyebrows rose, "Why?"

That sly smirk returned with vengeance, "You caught my interest as well."

After eating breakfast and chatting for a while, Sherlock decided it was time to get up and go on with the day. He was still shirtless and he really really tried to ignore the way William looked at him during the meal. It was strange to feel a gaze with that much heat but held no disdain at all, which was something that he was used to.

This, however, was something different. Even if the blond's face was carefully neutral, those eyes spoke something else. Sherlock couldn't tell what it is but maybe he'll find out soon enough. He left William at the table to finally get dressed and freshen up to look half decent.

He hoped that the patrons he saw earlier were gone by now.

Once he finished up, he saw that William was still sitting down by the table and drinking his tea. He approached him as he fixed his shirt, "Would you like me to call someone for more tea?"

William looked up, "I think I'm good, thank you."

Sherlock shrugged and walked towards his sack that was thrown haphazardly at the other side of the room before they started breakfast. He could feel Miss Hudson nagging at him to take care of his things once in a while as he looked at the sorry state of it.

The hunter opened the sack and rummaged through it to find the money pouch. It was enough for a few more nights and new clothes. If his money runs out soon, he should begin hunting again. He then rose up from his position when he found the pouch and hid it in his shirt. He could feel the questioning gaze of his companion.

"I'm going to get new clothes for you," and for me. "I shouldn't take long."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

Now facing him, Sherlock eyed the blond carefully, "You're injured. I can go on my own." He then pondered for a bit before saying, "But, you can leave as soon as I buy you your clothes. I'm sure you want to go home already."

William seemed startled but he kept his gaze, "Getting rid of me so soon, Sherlock?"

"Wha-" Sherlock was at loss for words, "I'm not. Don't you need to go back to your family?" As soon as he said that, he mentally slapped himself. What if he doesn't have a family?

"They'll be fine," William's voice seemed humorous, "I'm sure they could handle a day or two with me gone."

"Why do you assume that I would keep you longer than a day?"

"Why do you look like you wanted the company?" came the amused question.

Sherlock looked at him, not knowing how to feel, "I…"

The blond's eyes shined with mirth but his lips were curved up to a genuine smile, "Don't worry, I will keep you company for as long as you'd let me."

The hunter was baffled by the blond's claim. Surely he was joking. However, looking at how serious he is despite the playful eyes, Sherlock almost let himself believe that William did enjoy his company.

Damn, was he so used to being alone to crave something like William's attention?

Realizing that he didn't say anything for a while now, Sherlock passes off a scoff, "Eh, do as you see fit, then."

William seemed satisfied with that and only responded with a hum. Feeling that there wasn't anything else to say, Sherlock bid an awkward goodbye before leaving their room as his mind wanders to the blond yet again.

---

Sherlock wandered around the busy streets of town to look for a shop that sells affordable clothes. He wasn't rich and he could barely afford the few nights for the inn so William would have to deal with cheap clothes. He assumed that William was pretty well off due to his aura and looks but maybe…

He was dragged out from his thoughts when he heard someone calling him from behind. He looked back and saw Lestrade walking towards him with tired eyes. Really, how do they always meet like this?

He faced him and smirked, "Lestrade, you look like someone kept you up all night."

When Lestrade approached him, he gave a tired sigh, "Not someone. Something."

"Oh?"

"According to my sources," the older hunter started, "From the village that got burned down until two villages over is the demon king's territory."

Sherlock's eyebrow raised, "Is it now?"

Lestrade nodded, "Yes and people do say that it appears sometimes wandering in this town from time to time."

"What does it look like?"

"I'm sure you know demons change forms," the other said, "We couldn't possibly pinpoint what it looks like."

"I'm sure he has shown his true form at least once."

"Who knows, though? We don't actually know which is the real one."

Sherlock stroked his chin in thought. Demons tend to be tricky like that to either mess with humans or just simply wanting to avoid any attention towards them. After all, a notorious face isn't a fun thing to have.

"Will you search the area, then?"

"Yes," Lestrade replied, "We plan to leave the town tomorrow. I would've asked you to join us but you do prefer to work alone."

Preferred, Sherlock thought. Ever since he got a taste of good companionship, he wants it already. Probably more than being the usual lone wolf. He wouldn't admit it to Lestrade though since he has seen the multiple disdained looks he got from the older hunter's team and he doesn't have the patience to deal with them.

Instead, he flashed a smile, "I guess you do know me well."

Lestrade grunted and looked around, "I suggest that you look around here. The people say that the demons are more active here."

"Ah?" Sherlock grinned, "Are you giving me the opportunity to discover it first?"

Lestrade shrugged, "Who knows."

The hunter wanted to snort at that but let it slide, "By the way, Lestrade. I have a favor."

The casual face of the older hunter formed into something like exasperated, "What is it this time?"

Sherlock tried to put on his best smile but perhaps it's too weird on his face, "I need money to stay longer at the inn."

"Wha-" Lestrade furrowed his eyebrows, "I thought you had enough?"

The other shrugged. He didn't want to say that he's taking care of someone at the moment, "Ah, you know me. I need the rest of my money for supplies."

That seemed to appease Lestrade somehow but he still had furrowed eyebrows as he grumbled. He rummaged through his own travelling sack and pulled out a pouch. He threw it at Sherlock's direction and the younger hunter caught it easily.

"Thanks, I owe you one," Sherlock said.

"That's what you said last time," Lestrade sighed, "You better put that to good use."

"When have I ever used it wrongly?"

The look Lestrade gave him made the latter wave him off, "Right, right. I probably don't want to hear the answer. Let's meet up here again soon."

Lestrade gave a defeated sigh before waving him his last goodbye for now and went towards what Sherlock assumes is an inn where the group of hunters were resting at. Man, those 'righteous' hunters have it easy.

Once he knew it was safe to roam around again, he resumed his search for a clothing shop. As he walked around, the thought of the gaze of that random entity hasn't appeared since the night he saved William. It was weird but definitely a welcomed change. It's not like he wanted that kind of attention.

After passing a few more buildings, he finally found what he was looking for. He entered the shop and was greeted by an old lady. She seemed kind and tried to have some small talk with Sherlock as he looked around. He wasn't much of a conversation holder so the attempts did die after a while.

He doesn't exactly know what William's size is but after… observing his figure (no, he wasn't ogling), he could more or less guess the closest size. Picking up a similar outfit that the blond had last night, he seemed satisfied with his choice. He also got a black shirt for himself so he wouldn't walk around shirtless in the near future.

He paid for the items and his heart ached for his pouch. He should really start hunting or taking odd jobs in town as he investigates the demon king. Sherlock also figured that messing around in the king's playground would anger the king and face him.

That… wasn't the ideal solution but it can happen.

Sherlock returned to the inn with little to no detours. Some of the stuff that the new wandering merchants were selling out on the streets caught his eye but as he felt his own money pouch feeling light, he retreated from it. Ah, how unfortunate.

When he entered their room, William was standing and was looking up the window. Sherlock could feel his brows furrowing from thinking. Why does the blond like to look out every time? Sighing, he just walked over to his sack to keep the money pouches and then dropped the set of clothes on the table.

"How was your trip?" William asked, his attention now on the hunter.

Sherlock shrugged nonchalantly. He wasn't sure about the blond's identity so he didn't mention Lestrade. "Uneventful. There are some cool things out there though."

"Did you buy anything?"

"Nah," Sherlock responded, "I have no money for that anymore." He then gestured towards the wrinkled clothes on the table. Maybe he should've put it on there carefully. "The change of clothes, if you want."

William walked towards it and picked it up to observe it closer. He was looking at it carefully before saying, "Well, I don't want to waste your money. I'll change right now."

"Who said I bought it?"

"You think I would believe that you picked it up from somewhere?" William said with an amused huff, "And, you did say you didn't have money anymore."

"I didn't have spare money to buy those things but I have enough for us to stay here for a while."

William just gave a smile before he excused himself to change from his robes to the new clothes that Sherlock bought. The hunter suddenly hoped that the clothes were clean enough for usage right now.

Something clicked in his mind and he ran towards his sack again. He forgot that he should pay for a few more nights in the inn. He cursed inwardly as he grabbed the pouch of Lestrade's money and went downstairs again. He knows that William was well enough for him to leave him alone in the room for a few more minutes anyways.

When he went downstairs, he was glad that the woman was behind the counter. He approached her with a neutral face since he knew that his forced smile would throw off a lot of people and the woman was no exception.

He cleared his throat to grab her attention, "I… would like to pay for my extended stay here."

The woman looked up at him with confusion, "Oh, sir. Your room has been paid for another week already."

Sherlock's eyes widened. He knew it wasn't Lestrade since he didn't even know Sherlock was staying here. He then asked, "Who paid for it?"

"Oh, ah, it's your blond companion."

Now that's a surprise. From what Sherlock could remember, there wasn't any money pouch on William when he took off his clothes (for good reasons) so how could he even pay? He could feel sweat dripping down his face as he tried to keep his face normal.

"I see. Thank you."

He left the woman alone before he could even hear her reply and went back to their room. His mind was conjuring up so many thoughts and he was starting to get dizzy due to it. As he opened their room, he was welcomed with the sight of William doing some final touches with his outfit. The blond looked at him and smiled.

"Welcome back."

Suddenly, the thoughts seemed to melt away.

---

The next few days had passed without a hitch. Except, of course, as Sherlock hunts, William was also there with him. The blond wasn't surprised (despite his poor acting) when Sherlock casually mentioned that he's a demon hunter. It almost made him think that William knows his occupation.

He could clearly remember how William's brows slightly raised, mouth forming a small 'o' before it turned into a smile while saying, 'Oh?'. It certainly wasn't the reaction that Sherlock was used to but that in itself shows that William either:

Has no fear.

Thinks that he can easily dispose of him once he's bored.

?

Both seemed to be reasonable excuses but other than that, nothing else. Sherlock was more sure of his conclusion each day since he started hunting out. After he declared to do such activities, William was very adamant in joining him with his adventures.

"You don't have a weapon," the hunter pointed out.

"I'll count on you protecting me then, Mr. Hunter."

Despite the arguments that entailed their conversations everyday, William still ended up joining in his adventures. It irked Sherlock that the blond was eerily calm. A serene smile, calm gait, hands behind his back as he followed the hunter throughout the forest and the open lands.

Sherlock cursed in his head despite his neutral face. How the fuck is he so calm? Why is he joining despite it being dangerous? Why doesn't he actually mind the company? He tried to chant in his head that he won't save him when the time comes…

But here he was, jumping in front of the horde of demons that were about to attack William to protect him.

"Why didn't you fucking move when they were running towards you?!"

The blond dare flash a smile at him, "I knew you would save me, of course."

Sherlock now cussed under his breath, hoping that it would reach the blond's ears as he slashed demons down that were coming in all directions. Really, why did he have to put up with this? If he knew what bringing a stray entails him, he wouldn't have done it.

But at the back of his mind, he didn't regret it at all.

Once the uneventful adventure was done, the sun was already setting as the pair made their way towards back town. While William overall looks clean, it can't be said with Sherlock. Covered in mud and demons' blood, he looked horrible. He was glad that he had bought new clothes for himself before.

William was carrying the sack with items that they found that the hunter finds sellable. Sherlock didn't like the idea of him carrying it at first but he might as well be useful somehow. All he did was watch with amusement anyways.

"Do you need new clothes?" William asked as he kept up with the hunter's pace easily.

Sherlock replied, "I still have a pair back at the inn. I'll just wash this."

"Do you want me to buy a new pair for you?"

Sherlock contemplated for a minute. He was tempted to say yes but he raised his brow instead, "Where would you get the money for it?"

William eyed him, amused, "I don't kiss and tell, Sherlock."

The hunter almost tripped over an invisible obstacle on the clear path. "Wha- What the fuck?"

A chuckle escaped the blond's lips, "You don't have to worry about it. I do have my ways."

Sherlock eyed him carefully while William responded with a smile. The hunter was sure that the other knows that Sherlock still questions who he really is or to be exact, what he is. Oddly enough, neither of them brings up such a topic.

As promised, Sherlock was greeted with two extra pairs of clothes when he woke up after the tiring night of their expedition. He was still sleeping on the cold hard floor with the pillows while William took the bed.

The blond was insistent at first that they share but Sherlock's brain kind of short circuited at the suggestion and quickly rejected the idea. William looked amused and disappointed at the same time but didn't push him anymore.

Sherlock saw that the blond was still sleeping and he took the opportunity to fix himself up despite his aching back to sell off the items that the two of them got, hoping he'll get some good prices from the items.

Before he left, however, he heard the sleepy tone of the blond calling out to him.

"Where are you going?"

As the hunter slung the sack over his shoulder, he replied, "I'm off to sell items. I'll be sure to buy breakfast before heading back." He looked at William directly, "I think we're sick of the inn's food by now."

William, who was now sitting up, nodded, "I suppose."

Sherlock grunted and gave a halfhearted wave before leaving the inn. The woman behind the counter was probably used to seeing his face by now and greeted him a good morning as he passed. He returned the greeting with a nod.

As he takes in the now familiar area of the town, Sherlock feels like he's been living here for weeks now but it's probably not as long as he thought. He might send a letter to John and Miss Hudson if he has the spare change for a letter later.

He moved from stall to stall to get the best prices that he could get. It only took some sweet talking or hints of intimidation. In the end, it seemed to be a success as he carried a now heavier money pouch. It was even more than the amount he had when he first set out of Hong Village.

He managed to buy food that's different from the inn. A foreign cuisine with buns and noodles. The smell drew him in at first and the prices for it were more than affordable. He bought food that's good enough for two- or maybe three people before setting out to buy materials for a letter.

When he was done with his extra errands, he returned to the inn. Sherlock was relieved that the food was still hot when he entered the room. He was welcomed with the view of William simply staring out of the window again, a thoughtful look on his face.

As soon as the blond noticed the hunter's presence, he tore his gaze off the window and fixated it on Sherlock with a smile on his face.

"How was your trip?"

"Successful," Sherlock grinned as he shook the money pouch and set the bag that had their breakfast. William eyed the said bag with curiosity as he approached it.

"We should eat while it's still hot," Sherlock said and William proceeded to sit down by the table, waiting for him.

Before the hunter sat down, he got some tea for them and they started eating their food. As Sherlock ate, he couldn't help but lift his gaze from his bowl to William. The said blond was quiet as he ate but his eyes sparkled.

"Is it your first time trying this?"

William paused, looked at him and slowly nodded, "It is. What about you?"

Sherlock poured tea for the two of them, "Me too. I'm glad it's good."

The blond hummed and the two resumed eating in silence. Sherlock didn't want to admit so easily that he liked the routine that they have lately. Eating breakfast, preparing for the journey and exploring. Then, when either Sherlock feels tired or satisfied, they return to the inn to eat and sleep.

It has only been days but he really enjoys the blond's company. Perhaps a bit too much for his own comfort. He usually doesn't let people in his life so easily but William simply just appears like a strong gust of wind, sweeping off his feet.

He has no complaints. Well, maybe a little…

Once they were done eating, William cleaned the table while Sherlock took out the paper and envelope for his letter. He checked if the room had ink and pen and was soon relieved when he found the needed items. He brought it back to the table and started to write his letter.

"Have a family at home?" William asked as he settled right across from Sherlock.

Without looking up, Sherlock replied, "Nah. Just a few people I know from a village."

"They must be important to you."

A shrug, "More or less." He looked at William, "Did you send one to your family?"

"No," the blond replied, "We have our own ways."

Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed, "How?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

The hunter couldn't help but groan as he tried to keep the letter clean, "You're insufferable sometimes."

"Ha," William was amused, "That is what a lot of people say."

Setting the pen down, Sherlock propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his palm. His sharp eyes observed the blond from head to toe and William was simply keeping up a small smile as his own sharp red eyes looked at the man.

After a while, Sherlock sighed and eventually said, "Demon king."

"Sherlock Holmes."

"Ah," the hunter said, unsurprised, "So you do know about me."

"Only from rumors," the blond said casually, "Since when did you find out?"

"After a day or two," the hunter replied, "You weren't exactly hiding."

After they looked eye to eye, it was William who broke the contact and chuckled, "My apologies."

"Huh?"

"It was my subordinate who kept an eye from you since the last village," William explained, "We were simply checking if you were a threat to us or not."

"Well, am I?"

William had an unreadable look, "I can't really say yet despite being with you for days."

Sherlock chuckled, "I don't work for the kingdom if that's what you're worried about. I only have an old acquaintance there."

"Why are you looking for me, then?"

"Because," he pointed it out as if it was such a simple thing, "You interest me."

William chuckled, "Well, you did pique my interest as well, Sherlock Holmes. I have never met a human like you."

"What's with a demon walking around among us mortals?"

William leaned in ever so slightly, "Contrary to popular belief, a demon life isn't that exciting."

Sherlock looked at him again with a sharper eye. He looked like every bit of a human would look like if he was a noble or raised in a proper family. Soft blond hair, fair skin and lithe body. He doesn't look demonic at all! Well, maybe the exception of those crimson eyes and wait… are those small fangs?

"You have fangs," he said dumbly. How smooth.

The blond looked very amused, "Yes, I do. Does it bother you?"

"No, not really. I just never noticed it before."

"I do hide it sometimes," William admitted, "And it's quite small unlike a vampire's."

"So you're not a vampire?"

"...No." William raised a brow, "Disappointed?"

"It's just… somehow an image of being a vampire suits you."

The blond blinked a few times before his lips curled up, "How interesting."

As the two stare at each other, Sherlock almost completely forgot about the letter he was making. He knew that he should be mad about this or a tad bit weirded out to be with a demon. It was a demon king, no less.

Or he should've been scared, packing his things and going away from the king's territory as fast as he could but he didn't do any of that. His body was planted there as the two of them observed each other.

He didn't expect to meet the demon king or meet him under such circumstances. Imagine the kingdom finding out that a hunter helped a demon king rest in an inn and take care of its injuries. Definitely unheard of.

"You're not going to kill me?" Sherlock suddenly asked.

William's eyes visibly widened at this, "Why would I?"

"I know who… what you are," the hunter pointed out, "And I'm a hunter."

"And?" William tilted his head.

"And…. you know us hunters kill demons, right?"

"Of course. I've witnessed it too many times in my lifetime."

Sherlock squinted, "Then, why are you asking me?"

"Because I said that you're not like any other human," the king repeated.

"That doesn't explain things."

"Neither is your reasoning."

Touche.

"Then, is this your real form?"

William's eyes swirled with mirth, "Hm, you could say that. My horns aren't visible."

Sherlock blinked at the easy admittance. How in the world did he get such important information so quickly? And easily too. What the hell is happening here? He looked at him doubtfully but all William did was smile genuinely at him. It held no hidden agenda and that made Sherlock unsettled.

How? And why?

William leaned in, "I am honest when I say all I wanted to do was observe you from afar but plans changed. But do trust me that I have no ill intent towards you."

"...Why?"

William had a tight smile, "I do not have any idea why I was so drawn to you. You are clearly a strong hunter that could have a chance to injure me but…"

But?

But what?

Sherlock inwardly groaned. He didn't want to be left hanging like this but the blond made no movement that he'll press further and it quietly frustrates him. He has so many questions in his mind that even he got dizzy by it.

"I trust you, Liam." was the thing he ended up saying.

William's eyebrows rose and his eyes swirled with mirth from the nickname. His face was tense before but it slowly eased into a small smile.

"I trust you as well."

How baffling it is to think that a demon hunter and a demon learned how to trust each other despite their clashing 'classes'. It was weird for the both of them since both didn't know how to react to each other's races with gentleness like they did with each other or how their lives slowly molded into a routine that both can enjoy.

Neither of them backed out despite the dangers of this weird bond they have.

But, both of them think that the other doesn't care, anyways.

---

A month has passed and Sherlock still wondered how William managed to pay the rent for their inn. If Sherlock would add things up, he could've just bought a small house there! But he didn't say that at all since he didn't plan to stay there permanently. He does prefer Hong Village than anything else.

He tried to ask William about it after them discovering each other's interest but all he received was a shake of the head and a smile. Now, however, he received an answer that Sherlock should've guessed ages ago.

"My subordinate who was watching you brings a pouch of money enough for some expenses," William explained.

Of fucking course. He should've figured that a demon king was rich.

They were at the inn once again after having to venture out at the mountains the other day. They decided to take a break once in a while so Sherlock wouldn't die of exhaustion rather from wounds he receives from demons. The two talked about everything and nothing but some topics were left untouched.

If Sherlock would've gone back in time to tell his younger self that he'll be casually having tea with a fucking demon king, the younger self would've have lost it. He sometimes forgets why he became a demon hunter in the first place.

"So," Sherlock started after he took a sip of his tea, "Why is your title so typical? A demon king, really?"

William chuckled at that, "What would you prefer?"

"Something cooler," the other shrugged, "Or how about a queen for a change?"

"Oh? I'm sure you would've liked that."

Seeing the smirk, Sherlock raised his arms defensively, "Liam, I'm not interested in women."

William's smirk turned into more of… something that Sherlock couldn't place.

"I see."

Sherlock gulped when he felt something run down his spine, "Not interested in men either." He looked at the other pointedly. "Demons too."

At the hunter's confession, even the cool expression William had broke and he laughed, "I see. That's disappointing."

Wait.

What?

What does he mean by that?!

Sherlock gaped. Even he couldn't comprehend what to exactly say in this kind of situation. He wished that his face didn't show much of how confused he really is.

He scoffed hoping to save some face, "What… what do you mean by that?"

William smiled. Almost too innocently. "Why, do you think I'm simply interested in just your prowess, Mr. Holmes?"

Sherlock could feel his brain shut down at that.

Seeing the hunter had no response, he smiled and abruptly stood up. "A subordinate informed me earlier that your acquaintance from the kingdom has returned to town. I take it that you'll meet him?"

Sherlock quickly recovered from the initial shock and nodded, "Yeah. I promise that I'll meet him." He stood up as well. "I don't know if it's okay to ask but… would you like to join me?"

William blinked for a bit as he looked at the hunter, surprised by the invitation. Sherlock had no intention to bring any harm to the blond despite the invitation. He just knows that William is very much capable of passing himself off as a human and Lestrade won't be able to notice a thing.

The blond looked at him for a few beats longer before he nodded, "Very well."

---

Just as Sherlock suspected, he met Lestrade by the streets. The only difference was that he had William in tow and Lestrade looked even more tired than he ever did a month ago. The search didn't go well, he guessed.

Once they were face to face again, Sherlock noticed that the older hunter looked at him then at the blond who was just slightly behind him with a neutral look on his face. Even his body language showed nothing.

"Sherlock," Lestrade started, "Who's this?"

"I'm fine, Lestrade. How are you?" Sherlock said with a teasing tone, "He's just my companion. Don't worry."

"Companion?"

"Yeah," the hunter shrugged, "We met a month or two ago."

Lestrade's eyes widened, "I see… How has your research been? Found any clues?"

It took some power for the hunter to not look at William, "Nothing yet. The king is pretty slippery." Ah, well. He's actually with us right now.

"I see. Not even you can find it, huh," Lestrade said with furrowed brows. "I should inform the kingdom about this soon."

Sherlock gave a noncommittal shrug, "I don't think there's a need. I've been here for more than a month and the king hasn't made a move." He looked at William with a grin and it was returned with a small smile. "I think I scared it off."

Lestrade huffed but he wasn't displeased. "That may be so but I'll still report to the kingdom. We will probably not take action immediately, however."

"I see," Sherlock mumbled to himself.

Lestrade diverted his attention from Sherlock to the blond, "I believe I haven't introduced myself. I'm George Lestrade." He stretched out his arm to him.

William took it and did a firm shake, "I'm Louis. A pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure is mine," Lestrade said smoothly before letting the other's hand go, "I'm honestly in awe at how you managed to be in Sherlock's company for so long."

Whether Lestrade implied that because he wasn't used to the hunter being with someone or William's resistance to the hunter's insufferable attitude sometimes, Sherlock wasn't too sure.

What Sherlock didn't expect was for William to lean on him very closely while eyeing him with an unreadable expression that sent so many shivers down his spine. The hunter could feel his throat tightening, unable to do anything.

William spoke with a smirk, "He… always entertains me so his company is quite tolerable."

Sherlock's throat went dry at that.

Lestrade quickly looks from the blond to Sherlock with his mouth gaped. "Ah, I see. I guess you certainly have different ways to keep yourselves occupied."

WIlliam tore his gaze from Sherlock to look at Lestrade, "I really can't get enough of it."

Both of the hunter's jaws went slack at that, unable to say anything. It could as well mean anything but with the looks William gave Sherlock, the older hunter couldn't help but think about something else entirely.

After a few moments, Lestrade cleared his throat, "Ah…. I… I see…"

Sherlock cleared his throat and tried to do an awkward wave, "I think we'll go for now, Lestrade. Send me a letter if you found anything."

Lestrade only nodded, he was speechless about the situation and simply watched the two walk away. He almost wondered if he thought wrongly.

---

The pair returned to their room silently. William acted like he didn't say anything earlier as he sat at the edge of the bed, watching Sherlock shuffling around the room awkwardly. The hunter was clearly speechless and he didn't understand what he was feeling right now.

He grabbed the unbothered sack on the floor and opened it. He rummaged around to find the pack of cigarettes and matches. Once he pulled it out to check, he cursed under his breath that he only had one cigarette left. He still took it out from the pack and lit it with a match then brought it to his quivering lips.

"Do you still have another?"

Sherlock looked up and saw that William was still eying him. He tried to shove down whatever he was feeling right now and shook his head. The blond tilted his head to the right and asked.

"Do you mind if we share, then?"

As if possessed, Sherlock unceremoniously dropped the sack and packs on the floor and approached the blond. He sat right beside him with some good distance, his weight dipping down on the bed. He let out a huff of smoke before offering the single stick to William.

William gingerly took it between his fingers and Sherlock simply watched him take it to his mouth, inhaling the concoction before releasing it. The hunter didn't know why he found the movements hot. Must be because the blond does it with grace but he really couldn't look away.

William let out another drag before handing it over to the hunter again. Sherlock eyed it for a moment before taking it. He doesn't know why he was acting like this. Must be the smoke getting into his head but he wasn't smoking when he was with Lestrade.

There must be something wrong with him.

As he put the cigarette on his lips, Sherlock felt those eyes watching him as well. It was funny, really that the both of them were quietly watching each other smoke as if it was the more interesting thing to do but neither of them told the other to stop.

So they stared at each other more.

They repeated the process with the same looks and silence. Distance got shorter as the smoke filled out the air, leaving a familiar tobacco scent. The stares have gotten more intense, stronger, hungrier, longer. Sherlock was almost sure that it wasn't just him that was feeling this way right now.

He could see those crimson eyes darkening by the moment.

It was when the cigarette had gotten considerably short, that's when Sherlock noticed that there was little to no space between them. Instead of sitting properly, William had a leg perched up on the bed, almost draping over Sherlock's lap. They were comfortable, basking in each other's body heat and even if William was aware, he made no move to back down.

Sherlock absentmindedly placed his hand on the knee of William's leg, rubbing his thumb over it in circles. The cheap cloth of the man's pants could be felt. It was probably one of the clothes that the hunter bought for him.

William hummed in delight under the touch, appreciating it. So, Sherlock kept doing it. The blond even adjusted his position to fully drape it over the other's lap but it wasn't an awkward kind of position and William could still openly stare at the other.

Sherlock finally looked at him in the eye and had a playful smirk on his face, "Enjoying the view?"

That seemed to snap William out of his thoughts and those crimson eyes showed clearness. "What would you do if I said yes?"

The thumb stopped moving around and Sherlock knew that if he still had a cigarette dangling on his lips, it would've dropped by now. He visibly gulped, knowing that he doesn't have a verbal answer. He doesn't know who leaned forward first but their lips crashed together before he could even fully comprehend things.

Sherlock dragged the other to him, placing him on his lap. William had no complaints whatsoever as he wrapped his around the other's neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. Sherlock groaned when he could feel those short canines dragging and biting on his bottom lip, followed by a slow lick to beg for entrance.

The hunter let him.

William darted his tongue inside the hunter's mouth, fully exploring the hot cavern. He was taking his time as he fought with Sherlock's tongue who was fighting for dominance. The blond smirked when he could feel strong hands firmly placing on his hips.

Sherlock licked the small fangs, seemingly addicted to the way it feels grazing on his skin. He gripped onto the blond's hips tighter before rolling his hips upwards, emitting a soft moan from the other.

"Fuck," Sherlock cursed when they pulled away. Both of them were panting, eyes darkening as they stared at each other.

The hunter then pulled the other closer and started biting and sucking the sensitive spots on his neck. He could feel that the blond's hands moved his way up to his already messy hair and tugged it lightly. After leaving a few more marks on William's clear skin, the hunter could feel sharp teeth digging into his neck.

He never thought that fangs could be so hot.

Sherlock groaned loudly as he found the strength to pin William down on the bed. The blond looked content, as if the bite was enough to claim his human. Sherlock dipped down to capture the other's lips into a heated kiss again as he started unbuttoning the man's shirt.

The hunter didn't want to admit his eagerness when he could feel the garment almost ripping under his touch. This highly amused the blond however as he chuckled, gently guiding his trembling hands as he took his clothes off. William, in return, started unbuttoning the slightly embarrassed hunter's shirt with more grace and care compared to the former's rough motions.

They kissed again, now gentler than earlier but with the same amount of heat and passion.

Sherlock didn't expect for this to happen with a demon no less but it felt so right. It felt right as William's nails dug on his shoulder blades or how those fangs sunk in his neck when he thrusted at the right spot. It felt great. Really great. Seeing the blond coming undone beneath him was a sight to behold and he selfishly thought that he wanted this exact scene to be seen by him and him only.

It felt so right when he could feel their bodies connecting, their sweats, pants and heating gazes mixing between them. The hunter couldn't imagine himself doing this with anyone else than William himself.

William. A demon. Demon king. Someone who was staying with him and putting up with him. Giving him companionship that he has never experienced and wanted before. He doesn't know what kind of feeling that was rising in his chest yet but he wants the demon to stick around for him to figure it out. He wanted them to stay together longer.

As the both of them reached their climax, Sherlock's form slacked, laying on top of William who was also catching his breath. A content sigh seemed to escape the blond's lips as he wrapped his arounds around the hunter's waist, pulling him close to a hug.

After a few moments, they decided to move to clean themselves up. It was Sherlock who brought the towel and basin by the bedside since William had admitted that his knees felt very weak to stand up. Sherlock kissed him again before washing the blond's body with the wet cloth.

Once Sherlock was done, he handed William a robe while he at least tried to put on some pants. He climbed on the bed once again and pulled the unsuspecting blond close to his body, a soft gasp escaped William's lips.

"I've wanted to hold you like this for awhile now," Sherlock mumbled as he buried his face on the blond's neck, pulling their body down to lie on the bed.

William chuckled and faced the hunter as he tangled his fingers within the messy locks, "What held you back?"

"Myself."

The demon hummed in acknowledgement and the two of them seemed to shuffle closer in the already nonexistent space between them. They could only hear each other's soft breaths as Sherlock still had his face nuzzling the other's neck while William gently played with his hair.

Sherlock immediately thought that going home to this… to something like this doesn't sound too bad.

"Stay with me," he blurted out before he could stop himself.

The fingers stopped moving and William looked down, locking eyes with the hunter.

"To where?"

"Anywhere," Sherlock replied, "We can go back to Hong Village too. Well, if you want. The kingdom wants to look for you and… I want to make sure you're safe."

What an excuse. They both know that Sherlock's words don't exactly mean that. William was strong and he could destroy the whole kingdom if he so wished but he didn't. He wouldn't, honestly. Unless the kingdom threatens Sherlock.

William cupped the other's cheek, caressing it with his thumb. "I'm a demon, Sherlock Holmes. I'm sure you know the dangers that it entails."

"I know," the hunter said firmly, "I don't mind the risk."

The demon paused. "I care about you."

"I think we're both strong enough to protect each other, no?"

William, whose face was slightly tensed, loosened at the words. He had a small smile on his face, "We are."

Sherlock managed to pull down the other's face to peck him on the lips. "It might be selfish of me but… stay. With me."

"Selfish, you say?" the demon said amusedly, "I'm sure that's what my family would describe me now."

"How so?"

"Because I'm very much willing to stay with you."

---

Thank you for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed. This really took me awhile to finish (with a lot of distractions and everything). This had zero plans, zero outline and oh boy. The joy LMAO. But yeah. I did have fun with this.