Greg woke up with a horrendous ache in his neck. He stretched and found his leg brushing up against the arm of a sofa and a blanket twisting itself tight round his chest. He opened his eyes and saw Sherlock placidly regarding him from his stupidly big leather armchair, in the stupidly shiny silk robe. Oh he was in Baker St, Baker St... Oh bollocks. The memories from last night crashed over him in a wave. What an idiot. Stupid stupid stupid. They were having a great matey chat on the sofa. It felt so good, just being around him. Why did he have to go and spoil everything. Of course John wasn't interested, he's straight, Greg had let the alcohol and the atmosphere go to his head and make him see things that weren't there. Greg mentally shook himself, he couldn't keep thinking like this under Sherlock's gaze. He couldn't think of anything he'd rather Sherlock didn't know.
"So, where's the coffee for your guest then?"
"I didn't know you were gay"
Greg sighed. Brilliant, just the conversation he wanted to have. "Well you didn't know I was called Greg till a few months ago. And I'm not gay, I'm bi, which you should have been able to deduce from the ex wife."
"Yes, ex"
"Sherlock I am absolutely not discussing my marriage with you"
"Shall we talk about John instead?"
"There's nothing to talk about"
"You tried to sleep with him"
"I... that's not..." Greg gave up, the subtlety of the situation would be lost on Sherlock. "Yes, yes I did"
"And he said no."
"Well, words to that effect"
"Why?"
"Because he's straight Sherlock, as in attracted to women."
Sherlock smirked "Not exclusively I don't think."
Greg could not believe he was having this conversation. He decided that discretion was the better part of valour and didn't respond, instead stretching, getting up off the sofa, pulling on his t-shirt and making his way to the kitchen. If Sherlock wasn't going to find him some coffee he'd have to do it himself. Sherlock didn't take the hint though, padding after him silently on bare feet.
"I might not have a lot of experience myself but there are some pretty basic visual clues, pupils dilating, increased pulse. John might not think of himself as attracted to men but his body tells a different story."
"Well Sherlock, whatever John's body is telling you he gave me some quite clear messages last night. Now let's drop it. I know you don't care about making me uncomfortable but I can guarantee that John would not want you to be talking to me about this."
Sherlock seemed to consider this for a moment. Greg took the opportunity to dig around for coffee, flip on the kettle and tentatively peek in the fridge, hoping to avoid coming face to face with, well, something with a face.
"Do you want a coffee while I'm making one?"
"Tea would be lovely, thank you"
Greg grimaced, but at least he'd closed the conversation down. Sherlock span round, his robe swirling out, and stalked back into the sitting room, letting Greg re-compose himself with the comforting sounds of teaspoons clinking on china and milk gurgling into mugs.