Work Text:
It's not even been a week since he'd gotten trapped in his apartment and started sleeping in document storage, but Martin is fine. Honestly.
Not leaving is good. It's great, actually because someone from accounting mentioned seeing a weird worm on the sidewalk this morning, and Martin has basically everything he needs here.
And he's getting loads of work done after hours, since predictably, he can't sleep.
"Rather late to be staring at a computer screen, isn't it?" Martin startled at the voice behind him, and turns to see Elias looking over his shoulder. "Not that I don't appreciate the work ethic, of course."
He's dressed down, full suit gone, now just dawning a button up rolled to his elbows and his slacks. He has...very nice forearms.
No, wait! That is the head of the institute, and he does not have nice forearms.
And...And he has glasses? Martin didn't know he wore glasses.
Oh, was he supposed to reply?
"I - I just couldn't sleep, so I thought I might as well do some work."
"I understand the feeling, but really, Martin. Even Jon's gone home by now." And Elias smiles, like he knows. Really knows. "You're safe here. I've - We've taken precautions."
And so Martin starts to explain, or try to explain that the nightmares don't really matter either way but Elias just waves him off, and leans forward closes his laptop. His chest grazes over Martin's shoulder and his arm Martin's ear when he does, and that's just another thing that's on the list of, "Do Not Think About".
"I have a pullout couch in my office, and I suspect it would be more comfortable than the cot down here. You don't have to sleep, but it really would do you some good to rest. Or if you insist on working, you can help me look over the budget I was just sent."
"Oh, I -" Why is it so hard to come up with an excuse as to why he can't? It's because there is no reason, really. Laying on a couch and offering thoughts on the budget sounds kind of relaxing, actually and Elias doesn't seem like the type to try anything untoward and if he did, Martin could easily physically stop him. "Okay," he ends up saying instead of fumbling out a poor excuse as to why not.
Elias smiles a little too widely, which sends a shiver down Martin's spine that he is pretty sure has nothing to do with any attraction he feels towards Elias.
Martin follows anyways, suddenly feeling a bit like a cow to the slaughter.
The halls of the institute are dark, and Martin asks what time it is, since actually he hasn't got a clue, and Elias hums softly before telling him it's nearly half eleven.
The only light on at all is one up the flights of stairs, the one that overlooks most of the rest of the building, which is where they're headed.
The lack of most light catches weird movements in the dark - Or maybe he's just more tired than he thought he was. Martin doesn't mean to, but he draws closer to Elias each time there's something shaped vaguely worm-like in the shadows, and Elias lets him, eventually holding out an arm that Martin loops his own into.
Elias is surprisingly muscular for an academic.
It's the first thought he has about it, even before the panic properly sets in.
"Oh, don't fall!" Says Elias and Martin snaps out of his blind panic long enough to be pulled gracefully out of the way of a crate with a long number printed on it.
"They're...Reorganizing artefact storage?" He manages to ask, and he's simply nodded at.
There aren't any other crates and no one had said anything to him about moving things around in there, so it strikes him as strange, but not enough to ask.
Elias's office is in a strange sort of disarray. He's a very particular person, Martin knows, and this isn't a usual clutter. It's almost like he was trying to make the room look used.
That's ridiculous, why would he do that?
While Martin is busy surveying the stuff everywhere, Elias pulls out the couch and goes rooting around in his desk, bringing a clipboard and what must be an incredibly expensive fountain pen with a wood casing.
Her settles himself into the couch far before Marin does, crossing his legs at the knees and popping off the cap of the pen with his teeth, which Martin pretends not to notice.
After a long argument with himself, Martin decides that he's already up here, so he might as well sit for a while.
There is a lot of room on the couch, and he still finds himself pressed right up against Elias's side. He can't help the blushing. If he could, things would be a lot easier for him.
Martin just decides to close his eyes and try to stop thinking so hard about it. The couch is comfortable, and Elias is warm and a comforting presence against his side, even if he is his boss's boss and definitely not on the table in any way, ever.
And...And the little noises and comments he makes to himself while going over the budget or whatever are sort of cute. You know, for lack of any better words. Martin opens his eyes once or twice just to watch him squint at the words even with a pair of glasses on, and listen to the little "Hmm's" or "Ridiculous!"'s that he hears.
Elias finally catches him watching, and Martin blushes again, but Elias just continues his practiced neutral expression. "I might only have two eyes, Martin but I'm not blind. What are you thinking about?"
That is...The weirdest thing he's very heard. Maybe it's just a figure of speech he's never heard before? Elias is quite a bit older than him, after all and Martin isn't even up to date on modern sayings.
"Oh, I just....Y-You, I guess. You get really into that paperwork."
He leans closer, and smiles again. "I suppose I do. It's relaxing. Kind of like poetry for you."
"Y-You've seen that?"
He shrugs, but doesn't back away any. "Someone mis-labeled a tape. It was very pretty. I'm usually an informational text person but I still enjoyed it. However it was on institute property, and as such -"
"I'm sorry!"
"It was a joke, Martin." He says, and puts down the clipboard and pen, and grabs one of Martin's hands in his own, squeezing it reassuringly. "Although I suspect Mister Sims might feel differently, so we'll keep it to ourselves."
"T-Thank you. Um...Are you holding my hand?"
He looks down at their hands, and up at Martin. "It appears so. Should I stop?"
It doesn't have to mean anything, right? Elias isn't looking at him like it means anything, not hungry or even particularly happy. Martin shakes his head. "No. You don't think we could...Maybe you - Maybe we could cuddle? Just...Just because, you know. We can. I'm soft. And you're warm. And we're both laying here, so I mean -"
Wow! Yet another case of Martin Blackwood not knowing when to close his mouth.
Elias answers by turning and hooking one leg over Martin's and burying his face in his chest and mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like, "I was starting to think you weren't going to ask," before turning his head to look up at Martin. "Should I call HR?"
Another joke? He probably knows that HR at the institute is mostly a joke, right? "I..I won't tell if you won't?"
Because...Because what is, this, right? Elias obviously doesn't want to be alone and Martin definitely doesn't want to be alone and the solution to that is some no-strings attached cuddling.
Besides, he could fall asleep like this pretty easy, and maybe the nightmares wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't alone.
"What are you getting out of this?' He asks, staring up at the pockmarked ceiling, relishing in the weight of Elias's head on his chest, and the measured up and down breathing of his chest.
"Getting out of this?" He sounds genuinely surprised at first, but his voice quickly evens out. "I don't have to pay you for overtime."
Martin can't help but laugh. "You wouldn't have anyways."
"Likely not. Truly, Martin I just get lonely up here. You wouldn't think it was possible. It's stupid, actually. I don't get lonely. I can't."
But here they are, so Elias isn't quite as untouchable as he acts. "Well...Well you don't have to be alone."
"I'm not," he says. "But what usually keeps me company doesn't care all that much for my feelings." Silence follows, as Martin tries to decide what he means, exactly but Elias uses the hand not draped around Martin's waist to run through his hair. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it. Just sleep, I know you're tired. I'll keep you safe."
He can't recall falling asleep exactly, but it happens quickly, and when he wakes up he's back in document storage, like he'd never left. He didn't dream, though.
Not at all.