They were both still kneeling, and Sherlock shifted so he was kneeling in front of John- almost over him, with his own legs on the outside of John's, almost hovering over his lap.

The kiss deepened, Sherlock moved his tongue inside of John's. He let their tongues wrestle for dominance, but he didn't put any further. He wanted this, they both wanted this, but he didn't want to rush it. They had all the time in the world.

Or so, he hoped.