The more they carry on this way, the more Holmes finally feels able to relax into the idea of this relationship. Every time Watson pulls him into a kiss, Holmes feels reassured that he isn't leading Watson into a den of sin and damnation; if they are going in that direction, then at least they are walking together.

Kissing in one's shirtsleeves produces an interesting experience; he can feel Watson's body warmth when he settles his hand on Watson's arm, but it's mediated through the cloth, and it's frustrating and intoxicating and wonderful. Holmes may be impatient and abrupt in other areas, but he enjoys every aspect of physical intimacy to the point that even touching Watson through his shirt is a pleasurable experience.

Watson is solid and warm against him, and the smell of him is wonderful. He's drinking in every aspect of Watson he possibly can, reveling in the wealth of new information. Lightly he rests his hand against Watson's shoulder so that he might caress the side of Watson's neck, seeking out a little skin-to-skin contact, at least.

"The only thing I regret," he murmurs in between kisses, "is that it took me this long to discover your skills."