The realisation that John might be in love with Sherlock hits him like a tonne of bricks.
He sits on the couch, thanks God that Sherlock isn't in, and has a mild panic attack.
When he thinks about it, he supposes that it's been coming for a while. Sherlock does do something ridiculous to his brain, he's always known that. He just didn't think it was so... what's the word... deep? Intense? Sheer bloody frightening? He has no damn clue. None at all. So, John closes his eyes, puts his head in his hands and thinks...
He wasn't properly alive til he met Sherlock. Tick. He already knows that. Afghanistan barely counts in comparison.
They can laugh. Sherlock doesn't laugh with anyone except John, not really. Tick. He already knows that one too and it always makes him feel special. That feeling, John thinks, should have been a small tip off.
Sherlock is arrogant, rude, over-bearing, inconsiderate, unable to interact properly with humans, far too intelligent and Absolutely Infuriating...
And John doesn't give a toss. That, he reckons, should have been a slightly bigger tip off.
He thinks it's funny that the realisation only struck because a small man who ran a pub, who was dating a big man with a beard who ran a pub, asked him if his boyfriend was a snorer.
John asked for some more crisps.
It wasn't the assumption that he and Sherlock were dating. That happens a lot and John's kind of used to it. It's more the fact, John's decides, that John didn't know if Sherlock snored when he slept. And he rather decided that he would like to.
When that thought crossed John's mind, he ran from it as if it was a hell hound itself.
And then, eventually both John and Sherlock got home, Sherlock left and John has a small breakdown on the sofa.
Because John doesn't understand why, he doesn't understand how and he sure as hell doesn't understand What The Hell Indeed he's meant to do now. He doesn't think a manic mixture of laughing and crying will really do it.
When Sherlock walks through the door half an hour later, John gets up, makes them tea, sits down again and asks Sherlock what on earth he was thinking when he ran off like that.
John really doesn't know what he's meant to do now. He figures he'll work it out. He figures he has more than enough time for that.
After all, he thinks, it's not as if Sherlock will ever really notice.
It's not really what he does when it comes to John.