One twitching hand stopped, reaching up to rub the detective’s face. Of course. John wasn’t going to drop this easily. “If I said no, you would drop the subject, allow us both to rest and never bring this up again. You would perhaps drop hints of it to Lestrade in a poor attempt to gain further understanding, but other than that, this would be the final word.” He took a shuddering breath, eyes barely opening to look down at John. “If I say yes. Well. I cannot predict your actions then.”
John licked his lips. “I didn’t ask that” He pointed out, waiting for Sherlock’s real answer. He stared solidly back up at Sherlock, daring him to take their conversation a step further. He was right, more or less, about his reaction if Sherlock said no. He’d probably mourn the lost chance, move on with his life, say a few rude comments every now and again when he had to much to drink. Still, he’d leave Sherlock to his choice. He wasn’t the type to press matters like that, it just left things awkward and bitter.
Eyes closing completely again, Sherlock’s lips moved in an inaudible sound before he spoke up. One arm heaved itself over his face. He hated emotions. He hated feelings and the social cues that everybody seemed to live by. It was so, so - inefficient. Always acting on whims instead of cold hard logic and facts - it just didn’t make sense! But if there was one person that would elicit that response from Sherlock, whether from the depths of his mind or his heart or wherever it came from, it would be John.