Rating: PG-13
Warning: Slash, HxW
Synopsis: Written in response to a kinkmeme prompt, which requested sensory overload Holmes while making out in the rain with Watson.
Words: 321
*****
Sherlock Holmes can feel the individual ridges of each brick as they dig into his back. He can hear the droplets of rain falling into the puddle at their feet, and he hazards a guess that the water is a chilly 40˚F. He can smell the stench of the London alleyway, even through the cleansing scent of rain. He senses all of this in the half second before John Watson crashes their lips together.
And then all he can focus on is the mouth that tastes of tea, tobacco, and something so inherently masculine that it makes him gasp. And the probing mouth of his partner swallows that gasp.
He can feel the dance of mustache hairs across his mouth as Watson slightly nibbles his lower lip. He can feel the chip in Watson's tooth as he bites down slightly, and the whole world falls in a blur. Holmes can feel slightly calloused fingers wind their way through his hair and pull him forward. He can feel hard arousal pressed to his thigh through layers of tweed.
He can smell the doctor's sweat, no doubt a consequence of chasing after him when he had tried to slip through the door in Watson's waistcoat. He can hear the quickened breath, and he's sure that if he listened hard enough he would be able to hear a pulse.
His hands encounter wet hair, and for the first time since they've kissed, Holmes realizes that they're standing in the rain. But his attentions are re-focused when Watson slips a tongue through his lips, and strokes the roof of his mouth. His knees buckle, and his hips move of their own accord.
He can feel himself shivering and cold, but burning for touch. He can feel his mind fall by the wayside at the sensation of being wanted. And most of all, he can feel the world descend into oblivion when John Watson kisses him.