Martin's acquiring the attention of their server, signaling for the check, when John makes his offer. It takes a moment to really sink in, at which point Martin turns to look at him, frozen staring like a startled rabbit.

"Oh-" he blurts, and busies himself drinking a great deal more water. "I- safer. Right."

From the Lonely, he means. Sweet of him to worry. Or... practical? Practical. That's a much more John-like term. And it's tempting. It really is. Far too tempting, dangerously tempting, when the memory of John's hands on his own and ghosting over his hair is still so sharp in the murk of his sake-addled brain, and when it was only this same night he'd been so close to doing something really, really stupid.

"I... I'll be all right," he says after some outwardly mild consideration. "Thanks. But I think... s'far as I can tell, I think you actually put the Lonely sort of... in its place." He manages a little smile. "Don't think it'll be back anytime soon."

The check comes, and he gives the server his card without hesitation, without even glancing at the price. Who cares. He keeps his eyes on John, as grateful for his help and for the offer as he is mired over the difficulty of denying it.