Chapter Text
Martin was sat in his own thoughts when Jon dropped down in the chair opposite him, oddly graceful as always despite his lanky frame. Martin did not acknowledge him, just kept on eating his dry sandwich one bite at a time.
Jon sat there for a full minute, with the impatient air of someone who's expecting you to start the conversation. Martin refused to do so. He was done being polite to this absolute child.
Jon eventually cleared his throat and folded his hands. "It has been... brought to my attention," he said slowly, like it was painful for him to say the words, "that I may have been ... somewhat discourteous earlier."
A surprised laugh escaped Martin without his consent. It burned in his throat. "Were you, now."
"... Yes," Jon said. "So Tim tells me."
"Well, you can tell Tim that he needn't have bothered to teach his rude brother basic manners, because I am done trying." Martin took another vicious bite of his sandwich. It tasted like ash to him, his stomach churning, and he ignored it.
Jon frowned. He almost looked... alarmed? But that was probably just Martin's imagination. "That's unfortunate," Jon said, still with that awful even tone. It made him seem... not human, incapable of real emotion, and honestly, at this point Martin wouldn't be surprised.
"I had hoped- well. I suppose I should leave you to your food, then." Jon rose fluidly from his seat, face still caught in that odd frown, and made to leave.
Again, Martin felt that twinge of guilt in his chest, and he reminded himself that Jon had done nothing to elicit such sympathy. He'd been a twat, and now he was dealing with the consequences of his twattery, and that was fine.
Jon spun around suddenly and leaned down over the table, until he was right up in Martin's face. "I like tea," he said, with the intensity of someone who has just bestowed upon you a great spiritual truth.
"... What?" Martin asked.
Jon stared, if possible, even more intensely at him. "I like tea," he repeated. "I especially enjoy black tea with a splash of milk." This close, his honey-coloured eyes were so bright they were nearly mesmerising.
Martin told himself he was just confused and not mesmerised at all. Not even a little bit.
"Um, me too?" he said, when it was clear Jon wouldn't get out of his personal space without some kind of response. "I- I prefer darjeeling, myself. It's a little posh, but- although I mean, Earl Grey is also quite nice?"
Jon nodded sharply, and then he just... left. Without another word.
Martin stared after him in utter confusion.
Melanie sat down in the now-empty seat, and stared after Jon's retreating back. "What was that?"
"Good question," Martin said.
"He looked angry at you." Her arched eyebrow told him that was a question, and she started eating her own lunch.
Martin opened his mouth to agree, but then thought better of it. "You know what? I don't think he is. I think that's just... his face?"
Melanie snorted.
~*~
A plan formed in Martin's mind over the next few days. It was not a sophisticated plan, by any means, but he had a feeling Jon wouldn't appreciate that anyway.
So on Friday in the lunch break, Martin made sure to notice Jon first, and not the other way around. He walked over with all the casual poise he did not feel, and pulled out his thermos. Then he sat down.
"Hello, Jon," he said, as if his hands weren't shaking slightly from nerves. "I brought you tea, if you'd like some."
Jon blinked owlishly at him, the book in front of him forgotten. "Tea?"
"Yes. You said you preferred black tea?" Martin took out the extra mug he'd also packed with him this morning – he was nothing if not prepared. "I didn't bring any milk with me, but we can get some from the cafeteria."
Jon stared at the mug in front of him. It was brown and had a smiling cartoon cow on it. Beside the cow, the pink text read 'don't be a COWard!' Jon looked like he'd never seen neither a mug nor a cow in his life.
Martin swallowed his nerves and brought his own thermos-lid-cup to Jon's, clinking them together in an awkward pseudo-toast. "Cheers."
Jon seemed totally lost. But he did grab his mug eventually, hesitant, as if he was afraid it might explode. "… Cheers," he said and took a small sip.
The grimace on his face was subtle, but Martin was paying close attention, and he guffawed into his own cup at the sight of it.
"I'll just get some milk," Jon said and rose from his seat. "Would- would you like some as well?"
Martin smiled. "I'm alright. Thank you."
Jon did his 'new information added to the mental archives' nod, and then he walked over to the cafeteria, his gait almost... shuffling. His shoulders were hunched and he looked lost, like his entire day had been turned on its head by Martin's umprompted gesture.
Well, now you know how it feels, Martin thought cheerfully. He still felt nervous – maybe he was pushing too hard, too fast – but when Jon returned with a small sachet of creamer, he had the smallest smile on his face. Like he had successfully assimilated this new information.
They sat in quiet as Jon put creamer into his coffee and stirred it with a plastic spoon he'd also picked up. His eyes seemed lighter than usual today, almost amber, but maybe it was just that Martin finally had time to really look.
Jon took another sip of his tea. This time there was no grimace.
“Good?” Martin asked softly.
“Good.” Jon didn't smile, but he didn't really need to.
~*~