Sherlock skittered into the kitchen. This had not gone at all well. John's mouth had set firm and he looked just like he did last time he shot someone. He turned round and blanched as John continued to advance on him till Sherlock's calves smacked into the back of a kitchen chair and he unceremoniously collapsed into it.

"We will leave the boyfriend or not question for now. What I'm really interested in" hissed John, looming over him, his face right up to Sherlock's "is what the hell do you think you're doing tricking Greg into coming here now?"

Sherlock considered his options, he could lie, say that it was an honest mistake, but no, there was no way Greg...

"Stop! No thinking. The truth. Right now."

Sherlock was panicked enough to do what he was told.

"I needed you to see them side by side! I thought that when you'd had a chance to make a comparison you'd see that Greg... But then David was all wrong, I mean, seriously John how did you do that?"

John blinked. "What? You wanted me to see Greg and David side by side?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes "Yes, of course, who else would I mean?"

"But why?"

"How can you possibly be so stupid? So you would pick the right one! So you would pick Greg!"

"What!" John had clearly realised his voice had spiked in volume and dropped again to his dangerous whisper "Sherlock I don't know how you think this works but in order for me to pick Greg Greg would have to be interested in me."

"He is!"

"No Sherlock, he was. Note the change in tense. At the moment he seems much more interested in you."

"No you idiot, he doesn't just want to sleep with you he wants, I mean, he likes you."

"What are you basing this on?"

However panicked he was Sherlock knew that telling John how he'd come by that information would be so not good their friendship might be irretrievable.

"You don't want to know."

"I swear to God..."

"John, remember when you asked how I knew the boiling point of human semen and I said you didn't want to know?"

John shuddered, that had been his favourite omelette pan.

"So you'll just have to trust me. I know. I would never have slept with him if I knew he actually had..." Sherlock made what John had come to think of as his 'sicky-face' "...feelings for you. I only found out yesterday. So I thought if you saw them together you'd see how good Greg was. But then David..."

Sherlock threw his hands up in the air.

"I mean, what is it about you John? How did you manage it? You're a six, seven at best and David's at least a nine..."

John let Sherlock babble on. Greg liked him? What a time to find out. When he and David were just... Oh God, Greg and David, they were sitting there together. John jumped to his feet and rushed back towards the living room..

...

Greg watched John bully Sherlock into the kitchen and marvelled. No-one else he knew, not even Mycroft, could shock Sherlock into that deer-in-the-headlights compliance.

"What's this all about then?"

Greg flinched. He turned to David and saw the other man's calm face and posture but tough-as-nails eyes that refused to leave Greg's own.

"Ah, well, you know Sherlock..."

"I'm afraid I don't. Would you be able to enlighten me?"

Greg shifted from foot to foot "Look, Sherlock, he's... he's just stirring, I'm sure John will be able to give you a better answer when he's done with him."

"I'm sure he will but I'd be interested in hearing what you think."

"I think it's best if John..."

"Greg!" David had finally lost patience, his jaw was clenched and he was reflexively clenching and unclenching his right fist "I am not an idiot and I've never done anything, as far as I know, that should make you want to lie to me. Will you please explain what's going on."

Greg felt awful. David was right, he deserved the truth. But there was no way the truth would make the situation even better. Perhaps there was somewhere in the middle.

"I think Sherlock has got it into his head that I'm interested in John. I'm not sure exactly what he was going for by setting this situation up but I think he was trying to... help with that."

David's eyes narrowed. "He thinks you're interested in John. I wonder what could possibly have given him that idea?"

"David, listen..."

"No! Like I said, I'm not an idiot. And I really don't have time for this."

David turned to go and Greg reached out and grabbed his arm. David's whole frame stiffened. "Greg, please let me go. I will hit you."

"David, please. Don't walk out on John, he really likes you. Whatever Sherlock thinks he has no interest in me. I know. I... did, well... I tried to sleep with him and he was not interested. He brushed me off, politely but very firmly."

David turned to look at him, his eyes sharp. "Did this happen a few weeks ago? Not long before John and I got together?"

"About that time yeah."

David sighed and pulled his glasses from his eyes to rub they bridge of his nose. He breathed slowly, in and out several times, collecting himself. When he pushed his glasses back onto his nose his voice was like steel "Right. Okay then. Greg you need to let go of my arm." Greg dropped it like it was burning "Could you please tell John that I I had to leave and he shouldn't follow me."

And with that David grabbed his coat and headed resolutely out of the door. Head held high without so much as a backward glance. Greg was absolutely sure at that moment, that he would have really liked David if they'd met under different circumstances.

A sudden noise from the kitchen caught his attention and he turned to see John skidding out and looking at him and the otherwise empty room.

"I'm really sorry John, David left, I didn't mean... I don't know what I said."

John made to head down the stairs but Greg called "He said not to follow him."

At that moment all the nervous energy buzzing round John's small frame seemed to dissipate at once and he dropped down onto the floor.

"Shit. Shit shit shit."

Sherlock peered around the kitchen door "Where did David go? What did you say?"

"I was just trying to fix the bloody mess you landed us in!" Greg turned to John and dropped onto his haunches to meet him at eye level. "I'm really sorry John, I don't know what I said. I was trying to explain... well, I was trying to show him..."

They'd never spoken about it since, Greg realised. Neither of them had mentioned it. It felt so strange to verbalise it, admit it, after so much had happened.

"He thought you were interested in me, Sherlock's little stunt had made him think you wanted me instead of him. So I told him about that night, when you said no. I thought that would convince him but it just made him really really angry."

John looked up at him and Greg was shocked to see John's eyes swimming with tears. He wasn't crying, and Greg was prepared to bet anything that not one tear would fall but the look on John's face was heartbreaking.

"Did you tell him when?"

"Yeah, he asked, I'm sorry, was I meant to..."

"No, don't worry, it's not your fault."

John swallowed heavily. "I think I'm going to go to my room. Sorry Greg, but would you mind leaving? I'm just not sure I can..."

"Of course mate, no problem, I'll see you around." Greg stood up and held his hand out to help John up. John looked at the hand, smiled grimly at Greg in thanks, but pushed himself up with no help, grimacing as his left shoulder took his weight.

Greg grabbed his coat from where he'd dropped it over the sofa and turned to go.

"No!"

They both turned to see Sherlock standing in the kitchen door looking furious. "What the hell are you doing? You both know it now, you know you both like each other- want to be together. Why aren't you..."

Sherlock trailed off as he saw the murderous look in John's eyes.

"Did you not think for one minute Sherlock that I might care about David? That I might like him? Even though I like Greg as well? That he and I breaking up might impact me in some way? No you didn't did you, because you have no fucking clue what you're doing. You are messing with things that you don't understand and that you have no bloody respect for whatsoever. David is great, he's funny and smart and he liked me Sherlock- there was someone who was interested in me not you and that was amazing. It felt amazing. And he was my first..."

John raised his hands in a gesture Greg recognised as somewhere between admitting defeat and trying to physically hold back Sherlock's selfishness. Sherlock to his credit looked utterly dumfounded and crestfallen. The stupid stupid bastard had genuinely been trying to make it all work out. Some kind of Disney happy ending where everyone lives happily ever after.

"Come on Sherlock."

Greg tugged at Sherlock's arm.

"But John, I, I thought..."

"Sherlock, come on, John needs some time. Come on lets go..."

Greg managed to grab Sherlock's door keys and coat and hustle him out of Baker Street.

As he pushed the stumbling Sherlock down the stairs 99% of Greg felt awful. John was still up there standing heartbroken in an empty flat, Sherlock was spinning in a private hell of guilt of his own creation and poor David, who had asked for precisely none of this and deserved it even less, was probably right now striding across the city desperately trying to hold himself back from smacking someone in the face. 99% of him felt awful. But there was that treacherous 1% that kept running on loop through his head: Even though I like Greg too...