He flushed at those words. "Yes..." John answered.

But then he was kissing Sherlock again. That hand gripping his hair. He moaned into the kiss. Fuck. Fuck. He was glad they were kneeling/sitting because he may have dropped to the floor.

Sherlock was quite good at this. Kissing. Making him weak in his knees. He brought one hand up and gripped Sherlock's shoulder. He didn't push or pull, just holding. He wanted... more.