Chapter Text
Shit, he was so hungover. Thank god it was a Saturday, there was no way he could have gone into the archives like this. Jon would’ve been so mad . . .
Tim sat up, lazily rubbing his eyes and wincing as the change in position hurt his already throbbing head. He grabbed a lukewarm water bottle and flopped onto his couch.
“Damn,” he said aloud, speaking to himself, “that was phenomenal . . .” He went to reach into his pocket to pull out his phone, only to realize he left it in his bedroom, and didn’t feel like getting up. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, and drifted off.
It was way darker when he woke back up, the sky beyond his windows stained a deep orange. Tim huffed and pulled himself upright, doing his best to ignore the pain in his neck, he really shouldn’t have fallen asleep on the couch. He shuffled towards the bathroom, one hand against the wall to balance himself. He splashed his face with cold water, attempting to rub off the makeup that had smeared on his face overnight.
After he felt more awake, Tim hobbled into his bedroom and sat on his bed, rummaging around for his phone. Once he had found it, he thumbed for the fingerprint recognition button and opened his phone. He quickly squinted and turned down his brightness, which was burning his eyes. He had a few missed texts from Sasha, asking how the concert was. He huffed a laugh and simply sent her as many photos as he could, and then he lay back down, still in his clothes he wore to the concert, and closed his eyes once more.
Tim woke up to the sound of his ringtone blaring in his ears. He must’ve forgotten to turn it down when he went to sleep. He rolled over, grabbing at his phone, ready to decline the call, before he saw that it was Sasha who was calling. He answered and put the call on speaker, setting it down on the bed beside him.
“Huh . . . hello?”
“Tim, Tim, did you even look at the pictures you sent me?”
“Uhh . . . I mean, I was there, I saw it? And what are you doing, calling me at . . .” he checked the time on his phone screen, “11:03 pm?”
“Are you genuinely this thick?”
“Sasha, do you have an actual reason to call me, or are you just gonna spit insults, ‘cuz I have a headache, and this is making it worse.”
“Tim,” she replied sternly, “look at those pictures again.”
“The fuck? Sure, I guess.” Sasha seemed almost frantic at this point, so Tim indulged her and opened up his camera roll, still connected to his call with Sasha, and squinted at his pictures from the previous night, flicking through them. “Is there something I’m supposed to be seeing?”
“Look at that guy with the eyeliner, the one with the microphone.”
“Yeah, that’s Jonny d’Ville, the lead singer, but what’s so import-”
Tim froze and desperately rubbed his eyes, trying to make sure his tired mind wasn’t playing a trick on him. But it wasn’t. He could see the resemblance clear as day, in a way he’d never been able to before.
“Oh my god. Sasha, that’s . . .”
It was their boss, Jonathan Sims. The uptight man who never had time for anything other than work. The man who always rejected his invitations to hang out after work, stating he was ‘too busy’. The man whom he and Sasha had joked about hating The Mechanisms.
“It’s him, Tim, it’s him!”
“Oh my god, how the hell did I not notice it before . . .” Tim murmured, more to himself than anything.
“I know, Tim, I know . . .”
“I didn’t know Bossman was so cool,” Tim chucked and then got more serious. “What are we gonna do about this, Sasha?” he stared up at his dull ceiling, contemplating his options.
“Well, I mean . . . we don’t have to do anything,” Sasha responded, her voice quieter. “He doesn’t need to know that we know.”
“But I don’t wanna lie to him . . .”
“Well, it’s not really lying, you’re just not telling him everything.”
“Still, I don’t think he should go through life thinking that we don’t know anything, even though we do.”
“If you wanna tell him, that’s alright, but leave me out of it.” Tim wanted to argue, to say that she was the one who had made him aware of it, but he was tired, and he knew a losing argument when he saw it.
“Fine . . . what am I gonna do then?”
“I dunno. I’m tired, bye Tim.”
“Hey! Sasha!” he whined and grabbed his phone from beside him, and Sasha cut off the call with a quick Love you!
Tim let out a sigh and flopped back down on his bed, splaying his arms out wide, and tried to think of what to do. He could do what Sasha suggested and not tell Jon, but that felt wrong. He wanted to tell Jon, but he couldn’t think of a way to frame it without sounding weird and stalkery. Plus, he didn’t know how Jon would react. Jon could be strict at times, but he wouldn’t report him to Elias or anything, right? Right?
—
Fuck, he really hated work. Jon wondered if it was too late to let Sasha have the position. He had no clue why Elias had promoted him anyway.
He tried to look as awake as possible, despite the fact that he was utterly exhausted, even though it was only 9 am. If his sleep schedule wasn’t messed up already, it certainly was now. Tim (from his band) had convinced him to stay out all night and go drinking. But Jon wasn’t as young as he once was, and he had crashed terribly on Saturday and slept nearly the whole of Sunday.
Jon blinked as the harsh lights of the institute burned his retinas, a huge contrast from the dreary day outside. As soon as he felt comfortable enough, he opened his eyes once more and nearly jumped out of his skin. Tim (from his work, obviously) was standing in front of him, blinking owlishly. He stared for a few seconds more before speaking.
“You good, Bossman?”
“Y-yeah, just tired. Do you need something, or . . .”
“Just wanted to check on you, you were acting weird. Anyway . . . how was your weekend?”
Jon squinted at him, wondering where this came from. Tim was always friendly, but he had learned by now that Jon didn’t usually talk about his personal life. And how was he acting weird? He just walked in five seconds ago.
“Fine. I need a follow-up on statement 0122204. Can either you or Sasha get that done today?”
Tim’s shoulders seemed to drop, and he looked slightly disappointed that Jon didn’t humor his kindness. “Yeah . . . I got it . . .”
Jon watched him shuffle to his desk and start typing slowly before he went to his own office. He sighed as soon as he got inside. God, this job was stressful. Fuck, this wasn’t about Friday night, right? The concert? No, he didn’t think Tim could be that subtle; he definitely would have said something by now.
Jon took a long exhale and forced himself to relax. It wouldn’t be good to unnecessarily worry about things like this. He had work to get done today.
—
Tim had no clue what to do. He had almost hoped that Jon would admit going to the concert, so he wouldn’t have to figure out how to bring it up himself, but he should’ve known that was futile. He sighed and sat down heavily, trying to think of a way to confront him about it in a way that wasn’t uncomfortable.
He waited until Sasha came in, which was somehow later than he had entered. She smiled when she saw him and walked over to him.
“You talk to him about it yet?” was the first thing she said, close enough that she could be sure that Jon wouldn’t hear.
“No,” Tim huffed. “I tried asking him about where he was over the weekend to try and get him to admit it, but he didn’t say anything.”
“You know that’s never gonna work, right?” Sasha replied, sitting down at her own desk. “Jon is socially awkward, he’s never gonna get the hint. You’ve just got to say it to him.”
“I know,” Tim whined, throwing his head back dramatically. “I just don’t want to actually tell him . . .”
It was at that moment that Martin walked in, late, as usual. Hopefully, Jon wouldn’t yell at him too much for that. Martin saw both of the other assistants already there and walked over.
“So . . . how are you guys doing? And how was your concert thing on Friday, Tim?”
Tim said, “Terrible,” at the same time Sasha said, “Good, I guess.”
Martin tilted his head quizzically. “What happened, Tim? I thought you were super excited to go?”
“Yeah, it was great, but . . . you’ll see,” Tim sighed and made a motion for Martin to come over towards his desk. Martin came closer, but Tim only beckoned him to come nearer, until Martin was practically leaning over Tim. He was definitely invading his personal space, but neither of them seemed to care at that point. Well, Martin may have cared a little, but he was far too curious to do anything about it.
“So? What was the problem?” His only response was Tim pulling out his phone and showing Martin the photos he had taken Friday night.
“I . . . don’t get it? It looks amaz-” Martin paused and squinted at one of the pictures. He hesitantly reached over Tim’s shoulder and zoomed in.
“Oh shit,” was the only thing he said after a moment, and then his hand flew up to cover his mouth, either because he was so shocked or because he was worried that Jon would hear and scold him for being ‘unprofessional’.
“Yeah . . . yeah,” Tim exhaled. “Do you see what I mean?”
Martin nodded wordlessly, seemingly too shocked to say anything. Sasha didn’t look up at his revelation, too engrossed in her work for the day to care about anything else.
“A-are you going to say something to Jon . . .?” Martin uttered when he regained the ability to speak.
“I want to, but I can’t find a way to bring it up without seeming like a stalker,” Tim huffed. “Do you have any ideas, Marto?”
Martin sat down at his desk, still looking stunned. “M-maybe we shouldn’t tell him?”
“That’s what I said,” Sasha interjected, looking up from her computer for a moment. “But Tim had to go and be all high and mighty and tell me that we shouldn’t lie.”
“Hey!” Tim glared at her before continuing. “I just don’t think it's fair for us to know something about him, and he has no clue.”
Martin just stared off into space, contemplating what he had just learned about their uptight boss. Tim settled further into his seat, reluctant to actually start work, but needing something to take his mind off his dilemma.
—
Jon unenthusiasticly pulled himself out of his chair and made his way over to his office door. He normally didn’t bother to eat lunch as it was too much of a hassle to stop whatever he was doing and find something to eat. Besides, half the time he wasn’t even hungry, but he knew he should at least have something today. After Nastya’s little speech about his health and the fact that he felt about ready to keel over, he decided it would be best.
Jon pulled open the door and shuffled out of his office in search of something to eat. But as soon as he stepped out, he noticed his three assistants had stopped talking abruptly and had turned to face him. Jon just stared back at them and walked to the staff kitchen to try and find something edible. He thought he saw an apple in there, that sounded nice. Just when he had decided that, yes, he would have an apple for lunch, he heard a voice behind him.
“Hey, Jon?” The voice was shaky, and Jon thought it was odd when he turned back around to face them.
“What is it, Martin?” Jon’s voice was stern, annoyed that he had been delayed even further.
“I, um, well . . . I-I thought Tim might want to tell you something . . .” He shot Tim a look that said, Tell him now!
Jon turned his irritated gaze on Tim instead. “What.”
Tim seemed to shrink under his boss’s harsh tone and glared at Martin. This was not how he wanted this to go.
“Well, boss,” Tim stood up, trying his best to seem confident even though his heart was racing in his ears, “We’ve got something we’d like to talk about.” He looped an arm around Jon’s shoulders, doing his best to ignore the eyes on him, and guided him to the cluster of desks and chairs. “Come on, sit down with us.”
Jon sat down warily, confused as to what they were talking about. Sasha looked confused, too, as she just shrugged when Jon caught her eye.
“So, um,” Tim’s confident demeanor cracked as he realized he had absolutely no clue what to say, “well . . . we know you’ve got a life outside of the archives, I mean obviously . . .”
Jon just watched the man as he fumbled for the correct words. He really didn’t have time to waste, he had a lot of work to do, and to be frank, they did too. “Tim, I would appreciate it if you could get on with it. I'm trying to get lunch so I can get back to work.”
Tim looked surprised. In all his 3 years of working with Jon, he couldn’t remember a time when Jon actually took a lunch break, but he did his best to recover quickly, “O-oh, sure! So, Sasha, Martin, and I were talking about our weekends, and I was telling them how I went to a concert on Friday night-”
Jon froze. Shit, he hadn’t thought about the concert since this morning. Tim must’ve seen him if he mentioned that. And the weird behavior this morning? Was that his way of trying to hint that he knew? Oh god, he told Sasha and Martin. Oh god-
Tim’s voice broke through his racing thoughts, “And we just wanted you to know that, uh, well, that we know, and . . . I think you’re kinda cool?”
Jon raised his head. Tim was smiling gently at him, looking kind of embarrassed. Martin was staring at his feet, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater, and Sasha had momentarily paused her frantic typing to watch the interaction.
“What?” Jon’s voice lacked the authority he usually carried, too shocked to try to make himself sound professional.
“Well, yeah, and if you don’t want to talk about it, we won’t bring it up, and, I mean, I can’t speak for Sasha or Martin, but I think it’s neat.”
Jon just blinked up at the taller man. He wasn’t sure what to say. This was not how he was expecting this conversation to go. He guessed it shows that you really don’t know people until you talk to them.
“I . . . I appreciate the sentiment . . . but can I go get lunch now?”
Tim looked bewildered, as if he had forgotten that was the whole purpose Jon even came out of the office, and quickly composed himself, “Oh, yeah! Sure, do whatever you want, Bossman!”
The head archivist scurried out of the room towards the staff kitchen, away from the prying eyes of his assistants. Jon grabbed a bottle of water from the shared fridge and the apple he had seen previously and slumped into one of the plastic chairs surrounding the round table.
That was . . . okay. Not really how he wanted it to come out, but at least he wouldn’t need to worry about them figuring it out now, since they already knew. Plus, Tim even said that he thought Jon was cool! That part had gone better than Jon had expected. He thought they would have mocked him, but thinking back, he knows none of them would do that, they’re all nice people at heart.
Jon took a bite of the apple he had picked up; cold, crunchy, and juicy. Yeah, this is okay.