John had forgiven Sherlock relatively quickly. After all Sherlock had been genuinely trying to be helpful and John's whole nature seemed geared up now to beatifically accept Sherlock's apologies. Added to that were the little offerings of be-ribboned cartons of milk, loaves of bread, and once a fully gift wrapped jar of Marmite that Sherlock kept leaving at the door of 221b until John let him come home. Greg assumed that this was a misguided attempt by Sherlock to play up his flatmate skills, though it seemed to work.

Sherlock had stayed at Greg's in the intervening days and had been surprised when Greg hadn't been quite so keen to provide him with diverting sex as he had been previously. Mainly Greg felt that if Sherlock had created a situation where John wasn't getting any Sherlock shouldn't be getting any either. Also, muttered the slightly less pure part of his subconscious, if he had even half a chance with John he wasn't going to mess it up for a quick roll in the hay with Sherlock. Even if Sherlock kept making those eyes at him.

The next few weeks were torture for Greg, seeing John at crime scenes looking so quiet and small. He wanted to hug him, to gather him up and kiss him until he forgot where he was and why he was so upset. David and John hadn't been seeing each other for that long but John had clearly fallen for him hard. It got better though. John looked perkier each time he saw him and the first time that John caught Greg's eye and gave him a full, wide smile Greg's heart nearly catapulted out of his chest. At that point he decided. No more messing about. He gave himself a deadline. John still needed more time but he reckoned two weeks would do it. He was going to have to chance his arm.

...

Greg couldn't remember the last time he had felt more nervous. Mrs Hudson had let him in downstairs, murmuring something about looking very dapper. He had made an effort. Nothing fancy but he was wearing his good jeans and an ironed shirt and had tried to get his hair to lay properly. He'd put on some aftershave earlier but then had tried to wash it off in a fit of panic that it would look too much. As such he mainly smelt of lemon soap. He walked up the stairs and knocked on the door.

"Coming, just a sec! Sherlock I can't see why you can't... oh, hi Greg"

John had opened the door and Greg had failed to say anything. He had something worked out a second before but it all seemed to flood away from him at the last minute.

"Is it a case? Thank God, he's been driving me up the wall, I'll just call him..."

"No!"

John looked startled at Greg's abrupt tone.

"Sorry, no, you don't need to get Sherlock, I wanted to speak to you."

John's eyes widened and for a moment Greg thought he'd already blown it but then John stepped into the hall and pulled the door to behind him, just leaving it on the latch.

"Okay, sure."

Greg realised John was waiting for him to speak. Which made sense as that was how conversations usually worked.

"John, I know you really cared about David, and while I didn't try to break you up I know I was part of, well, the circumstances that led to it. I just wanted to apologise for that properly."

"Oh, okay. Well, no worries Greg, it wasn't your fault at all. And I've already forgiven the unmitigated arsehole" John shouted these words back through the door for Sherlock's benefit "who actually had something to apologise for."

John looked at him expectantly. Oh yeah, the conversation thing again.

"Well, erm, thank you, that's...good."

"Erm, was that, well, was that all?"

Was Greg imagining it or did John look a little disappointed? Ah well, now or never.

"No, there was something else actually...erm..."

John looked at him and smiled. That big wide smile that couldn't help but be anything other than honest and open and completely beguiling. And that was it for Greg, all the uncertainty, the jealousy, all the mess that had happened over the past weeks and months, it was like it had never happened. It was like he was sitting back on the sofa in 221b giggling away and suddenly saw John's face properly, really taking it in. And it had held his breathing and stopped his heart in his chest and if Greg didn't kiss him right now he was going to explode. So Greg kissed him.

It was glorious. It wasn't the muzzy, tipsy, needy clash of mouths that had been before but something sweet and deep and shattering and John's hand was at the back of his head pulling them towards each other and John's tongue was in his mouth stroking and searching and when John made a breathy little gasp deep in his throat Greg though he was about to fold at the knees.

They broke apart and looked at each other for a moment, getting their breathing back to normal.

Greg swallowed. "I was just wondering if you'd like to go out for a drink with me? If you're free?"

John grinned. "Perfectly free, how's right now?"

"Now would work."

John opened up the door briefly and leaning back in to grab his keys and his wallet from the hall table. "I'm off out Sherlock, I'll see you later."

"But John I need you to help me run the experiment with the eyelids and the..."

John purposefully slammed the door on Sherlock's complaint.

"Shall we?"

"After you."

As he followed John down the stairs Greg grinned, a few months late perhaps, but they got there in the end.