Looking up at Sherlock, John leaned up, and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's neck.
Sherlock let John push him back until Sherlock was sitting on the couch. Then John made Sherlock lie back and straddled his waist.
John leaned down, grateful for the distraction, and pressed his mouth gently to Sherlock's. Sherlock reached up and grabbed John's neck, pulling him down so that he was more firmly pressed against him.
Sliding his tongue smoothly into Sherlock's mouth, John gave a low moan, and framed Sherlock's face with his hands.
Sherlock pulled back and John trailed kisses down his jaw and neck.
Running his hands up and down John's back briefly, Sherlock rested his hands on John's shoulders and gently, yet firmly, pushed John back.
Slightly confused, slightly wary, John sat back up.
Sherlock propped himself up on his elbows and searched John's face. "What's wrong?" he asked softly.
John stiffened, he didn't want to tell Sherlock, he felt pathetic. He turned his face away from Sherlock and avoided his gaze when he answered. "Nothing. There is absolutely nothing wrong with me."
He saw Sherlock frown a second before he felt his long, soft hands gently cupping his face and turning John's face so that he couldn't avoid Sherlock's probing gaze.
"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked again, more firmly this time. His eyes probed John's, then he frowned and asked,"What happened last night?"
John's eyes, of their own accord, started watering."I'm fine," he said, more to himself than to Sherlock," I am perfectly fine!"
He drew in a deep breath, a tear leaking from his eyes as the nightmare flashed before him. "Nothing." he thumped softly on Sherlock's chest with his fist.
" happened." Another thump, this one slightly harder.
"Last." More tears leaked from his eyes, the pain, the guilt, overwhelming him.
"Night." The last word was little more than a croak as he smoothed his hands on Sherlock's chest.
He leaned down and buried his face in the crook of Sherlock's neck, tears running freely down his cheeks, no matter how much he willed them to stop.
He flattened his body out so that he was half lying on top of Sherlock instead of straddling his waist.
Sherlock made a low crooning noise, hoping to soothe John, and brought his arms around to John's back, hugging him tightly.
John sniffled slightly,breathing in Sherlock's comforting scent. Well, comforting to him, anyway.
After a while, John finally got enough control over himself to stop crying. He felt embarrassed at breaking down in front of Sherlock, but to his surprise, Sherlock just smiled softly at him.
"I'm sorry Sherlock," John murmured, turning his head and glancing up at him.
Sherlock smiled gently at John, his eyes gleaming with affection. "It's alright John, it means you trust me, doesn't it?"
John gave a watery laugh, rubbing the tears from his face. "Yeah, Sherlock. I trust you. I would trust you with my life."
Sherlock beamed happily up at John.
Pressing a tender kiss to John's nose, Sherlock sat up, pulling John with him, and hugged him tightly to Sherlock's body.
"I love you," Sherlock's confession was honest and genuine.
"I love you, too, Sherlock," John said, smiling as he leant up and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck, pulling him down for a tender kiss.
Nothing could ever ruin this moment, not even Mycroft, Greg and Mrs Hudson bursting in on them.
Which, of course, they did, but the two boys ignored them, wrapped in their moment of complete and utter bliss.