John moved away just a bit, staring down at Sherlock. He chewed his lip, thinking... He wanted. In the very base of him... He knew. He knew that Sherlock was it. It was an odd feeling, and one he loved and loathed and feared.

"I'm not saying yes, yet..." he swallowed. This was such a large secret. But he wanted to share it with Sherlock. It was right.

"But I'll tell you a secret." He leaned down to kiss Sherlock's forehead. "A demon's blood is only poison... If you don't have permission."