Work Text:
The first time Martin touches him after it's all done--really touches, not just a handshake or accidental collision of limbs--the warm hand against Jon's cheek makes him suddenly realize how cold he's been for so long.
Martin is looking at him, but there's nothing behind his eyes except simple observation. And then, without warning, that bastard has the audacity to smile, and Jon is overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him, to let Martin breathe that soft warmth into every crevice of whatever's left of his soul.
Martin, with a mouth that feels absolutely scorching hot, beats him to it.
