After the third time John and Sherlock went to Angelo's, John eventually accepted the small candle that always appeared, Angelo giving them a knowing smile that years later would finally hold some meaning.
After a while John quit trying to convince Mrs. Hudson of his sexuality, and eventually stopped trying to interpret the meaning behind the looks that Mycroft and Lestrade would occasionally throw his way when they thought he wasn't looking.
Molly quit pining after Sherlock, her glances of longing turning to sly grins when she would be in the same room with them, noticing the space between the two men becoming non-existent when Sherlock was looking through the microscope with John at his back, looking over his shoulder.
After the kiss in the rain John couldn't help but finally notice these subtle changes, curious as to why everyone was so content in believing they were together despite his objections. If he even believed before the kiss that there might be something between them, those thoughts disappeared during the silent ride back to the flat, staring out the window, hoping the man next to him would ignore what happened.
And he seemed to, not mentioning any of it to John, not asking what he was thinking when he thought it would be a good idea to try and make out with him. Life continued as normal for several weeks until the wartime nightmares that used to plague his dreams started to come back, causing him to toss and turn in his bed, waking up covered in sweat with his heart racing.
Soon he was avoiding sleep, going to his room with the pretense that he was turning in for the night, instead waiting for the sound of Sherlock doing the same before he would return back to the sitting room with his laptop, trying to find things to distract him. Sometimes he would remain there until he got tired enough to crawl into his bed, other times he fell asleep in his chair, waking a few hours later to Mrs. Hudson bringing in the morning tea.
She didn't question finding him curled up in his chair, instead waking him up with a slight nudge to the shoulder and a tray of tea and biscuits. He would thank her before taking a quick shower and getting dressed; emerging from his room about the same time Sherlock would come from his, his dressing gown hanging loosely on his shoulders.
John appeared increasingly tired each day, bags developing under his eyes. Mrs. Hudson was becoming worried but Sherlock didn't seem to notice, or at least John didn't think so, failing to catch on that Sherlock was going to bed a little earlier each night.
The nightmares didn't get much better falling asleep in the chair, but he felt slightly more comfortable there until he was awoken one early morning to someone grabbing him, shaking him. He tried to fight them off only to suddenly awaken to the sound of his name, finding Sherlock kneeling in front of him.
"John, wake up, you're having a nightmare." The voice was firm, soothing as John looked around himself, realizing that he wasn't being attacked by the enemies, that he was in the safety of 221B.
"Come on, get up." John wasn't sure what was going on, why Sherlock was pulling him out of the chair. His mind was still hazy from the nightmare, his gait unsteady as he walked ahead of Sherlock to the detective's room.
"Sherlock, what are we doing?"
"Just lay down." Sherlock's voice was firm again, telling John that there was no room for argument on his instructions. He felt uncomfortable as he lay in Sherlock's bed on his side, facing the wall as he felt the bed dip down behind him, his body becoming tense.
"You're not in the war John, you're safe in this flat. Now go to sleep."
John let out a heavy sigh, imagining what Sherlock would do if he were to get up and leave. He was afraid to find out. He only felt himself beginning to relax with the sound of Sherlock's heavy breathing coming from behind him, signaling that the detective was asleep .
Within minutes John found himself falling asleep as well, the nightmares attempting to return but instead being forced away by the arms suddenly encircling his waist, the body pulling him close acting as a shield against all the demons creating a fitful sleep.
It was the first sleep free of nightmares John had experienced in almost two weeks.
If this feels like it's going kind of slow, it's intentional. I thought I would take a different approach other than John and Sherlock just getting it on all the time. In my head it is more of a slow process with uncertainty and the gradual removal of the barriers between them. If you just want smut, go check out my other fic 'Variables', hopefully it too will have an update soon. ;)