Jonathan Sims

That's more like it. Martin finally starts to relax, one hand reaching out to grip John's shirt front, and then pleasantly surprises him with some tremulous but decisive verbal agreement. John hums, the arm around Martin's shoulder dropping down to his back and drawing him closer.

He pulls back enough to meet Martin's gaze and murmur a low, satisfied, "Good." Then he leans in to kiss him properly, palm cradling the back of Martin's head as he slowly, inexorably bears him back towards the cushions.