John approached, ashamed with the current way his thoughts were leading him. Still, and despite the consequences, he would soldier on. There was nothing to lose, and so much to win. It was worth the risk.
He walked slowly, on tiptoes, and glanced at the way Sherlock's chest was rising. He was lost in thought, the palms of his hands against each other, his long fingers placed on his chin.
John came closer and leaned down, grabbing his neck gently, tracing the line of his jaw.
Sherlock opened his eyes at once, his own hands falling to the side.
'John, what do you want? I'm thinking.' he complained, unaware of the playful smile on John's lips.
'Well, Sherlock, deduce.' the other one answered, getting so close he could feel Sherlock's breath against his own.
Sherlock didn't answer, the gears inside his head ticking like a clock, understanding.
'I- Oh God, John. I hav- nev- I… Oh God.'
John dind't need approval. He tasted Sherlock's lips, head upside down. It was all twisted and turned, as his nose pressed against Sherlock's chin, and Sherlock's curly hair tickled his neck. The kiss was languid, tender, wet. Sherlock seemed lost at first but then he let himself go, he played the game and as John's tongue battle with his, he sighed silently, satisfied.
John pulled away, still biting on his lip, not wanting to let go.
'Good?' he asked.
Sherlock licked his own lips, his heart racing.
'I think so.' he answered. 'Mind if I check again?'
John smiled. As many times as he wished. And he kissed him, over and over again.
Who said sleepless nights have to be wasted?