I would like to thank Kassia Lirret, my muse and inspiration for this story! :) Thanks, Kassia! Everyone needs to read her story Infinite Kisses if you are Sherlock Holmes/John Watson fans. It's a fantastic story! Now that I am done pimping out her story...
Warnings: Yaoi, language...uhm, I think that's it.
This is a songfic based on Like The Rain by Clint Black. Beautiful song. Sorry for any OOC or inaccuracies. Tis my first Watson/Holmes fic
XxX
John Watson would never admit it, but rain and storms scared him. No. Not scared. Downright petrified him. Not to mention the change in air pressure and the cool air made his leg hurt and his hand tremor. This is why, as the rain outside pounded on the house like a great cat that wanted to devour the occupants of 221B Baker Street, Watson sat in his bed, unashamed to be curled up into a fetal position, blankets engulfing him. Holmes was out and not meant back for several hours. Hours. A long time. Watson could manage three more hours without his partner, best friend and lover. 180 minutes.
No problem.
Sherlock Holmes was well aware of John's dislike of the rain, despite Watson's rather naive belief that this phobia, like so many other things in his life, were very obvious to Holmes. He trembled when there was a thunderclap and shivered at the sight of lightning. And the rain itself? Watson's eyes fogged with tears as the rain touched him, sending a fiery chill through his spine and straight to his left leg. A few days ago they had gotten so engulfed in an investigation that Watson had not noticed the storm clouds until the rickety truck the victim's grandmother had loaned them, which seemed so old that the Wise Men may very well have used it to go see baby Jesus, broke down. No, not broke down. Flat out died in a hail of smoke and coughs.
Walking back to town, which seemed three times as long a distance on foot, Holmes noticed subtle changes in his otherwise unshakeable colleague. That night, Holmes deemed this fear of rain an ailment that required immediate treatment.
Watson was, needless to say, not pleased in the slightest when Holmes had returned home. Oh, he was so happy for about the first ten seconds of hearing his lover's early return. And then Sherlock Holmes decided it might be a good idea to enter Watson's bedroom, throw open the window, and then insist that Watson get dressed for a walk.
"Holmes, it's raining out there." Watson grumbled, very uncharacteristically.
"Yes, but I fear I have a friend who seems to be sick and requires treatment," Sherlock replied, unperturbed by Watson's foul mood.
"It can wait until morning, surely?"
"What good doctor forces his patient to wait until morning? It's just water, John," Holmes teased pleasantly, acting as if he was ignorant to Watson't discomfort.
Watson narrowed his eyes at his partner but got dressed anyway. 10 o'clock at night, John noted and followed Holmes, quite slowly, with cane in hand, into the freezing rain. John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was the worst rain the city had seen a very long time, since before Watson had been born. The streets were flooded, the water up to their ankles as they trudged through the frigid liquid. Finally, Holmes lead them to a slightly elevated little gazebo, with cover from the rain. Watson sat down, grimacing as he stretched out his leg, willing the pain to go away.
"John?"
"Hm?"
"Astraphobia or ombrophobia?"
"..."
"Tell me."
"Both."
John closed his eyes. He opened them again, seeing Holmes standing over him. Holmes gently touched Watson's cheek with a single finger, tracing the bones.
"Let me help you."
Holmes captured Watson's lips in a searing kiss that made everything seem a hundred degrees hotter. And Watson knew the temperature increase had only just begun.
XxX
Ah! So, I truly hate how this turned out... :'( I wanted it to be better. I'm not done yet, but to save myself the embarassment of posting a terrible piece, I shan't post anymore til I get some feedback on this bit.