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One afternoon, while Tim and Martin were out for lunch, Tim pointed his fork at his companion and said, “Alright, I can’t take it anymore. You’re gonna have to explain the Jon thing to me.”
Martin, who was in the middle of chewing his pasta, leveled Tim with an ineffective glare. It was hard to look intimidating when you were blushing.
“I’m serious!” Tim went on to say, taking advantage of Martin’s inability to protest. “Ever since you told me you had a crush on him-”
“Never said that,” Martin interrupted, then took a sip of his drink. “I never said I had a crush on Jon, you just decided that on your own.”
“But I’m not wrong, am I?”
Martin rolled his eyes, but said nothing else. Tim waggled his eyebrows. “See? So why don’t you just spill the beans and tell me how that happened, because I really can’t imagine it.”
“What’s there not to understand? I- I just. I dunno! I like Jon, that’s all. It’s not anything special.”
“But it’s Jon,” Tim says. “You know, Jonathan Sims? The stuffy, patronizing academic who had an obsession with nitpicking all your work?”
“He wasn’t obsessed-”
“I can count on two hands the number of times that man’s ‘feedback’ made you so upset you cried,” Tim offered, and that did quiet Martin’s protests. The larger man leaned back in his seat, slowly sipping his cold soda through a straw while Tim went on. “And those aren’t even counting the times I’m sure I didn’t see. I mean, come on, Martin. Jon was a total shithead to you for nearly two years.”
“I… He just-” Martin sighed, putting his drink down. “You’re not wrong. I mean, you’re, you’re just, right. Yeah, he was kind of a bastard, for a long time.”
“Not even kinda. An absolute bastard.”
“Yes, yes.”
“So what happened?” Tim asked, surprising himself with how desperate he sounded for an answer. But he really couldn’t understand it. Jon had already been unapproachable and hard to deal with before he’d been promoted to the head archivist position; seeing the way he treated Martin during that time had more or less put Tim off the man.
“He just… changed,” Martin said quietly, then shrugged helplessly, a smile on his face. “Not overnight, of course, but, a little while before you left, we had a- a talk. Sort of. It was more like he had to, um, ask me something, or- or we had to clear up a misunderstanding. And no, don’t ask - it was sort of personal. Anyway, after we talked about it, I think Jon felt bad. He sort of apologized for his behavior-”
“Sort of?”
“Jon’s not very good at admitting when he’s wrong,” Martin said, chuckling. “Getting better, but still a bit bad at it. Anyway, it happened, and after that you left and he was so stressed… It took a while for us to find a replacement - for some reason, Elias wasn’t keen on having someone else transfer from another department. Eventually Melanie - the new girl I told you about, remember? - came along and she got hired, but before then, things were a bit hectic. Jon was really depending on Sasha and me to help get things organized for all the functions that were coming up, the evaluations and whatnot; it was a bit of a nightmare, really. But it meant we, all three of us, were hanging out a bit more - sort of. I mean, Jon was… making an effort. Talking to us a bit more casually. And then I told you about the lunches.”
“Yeah.”
“We started going out together more, the three of us, but then it was just me and him when Sasha wasn’t available a couple of times. And then just the two of us more often. And…” Martin paused, trying to control his blush, but it was a lost cause. “I just- God, Tim, you can’t tease me for this-”
“Oh, I absolutely can. And will!”
“Tim!”
“Sorry, bud, that’s what friends are for! They tease you about your big gay crushes. So go on then, tell me why Jon is so dreamy.”
Martin stared down at his plate, looking delightfully flustered, pushing his pasta around with his fork. “He’s just- nice, honestly. Or, he can be, when he tries... And he’s, he’s funny! Like, actually really funny, once you can get him to loosen up for a minute.”
“What, is the guy packing some world-class knock knock jokes or something?”
“No! No,” Martin laughs. “Oh god, he hates knock knock jokes, actually.”
“No taste,” Tim said, and made sure his tone made it ambiguous if he was referring to Jon or Martin. He got raspberry for that and winked in return.
Martin went on to say, “He’s got this sense of humor… It’s hard to describe. Dry? Sardonic? It- It’s less about what he’s saying, more how he says it, and, and sometimes he will say something - almost offhand - so out of nowhere, it hits just the right spot.”
With a wave of his hand, Martin turned the conversation into a new direction. “Anyway, the point is, he’s really not as bad as he used to be. Jon still has his moments, but he’s… genuinely pleasant to be around, most of the time. He’s really… making an effort, now, I guess. And I think he’d always wanted to, you know? To be our friend? But he’s told me before, that being our boss made it feel sort of, what, inappropriate? And Elias is always breathing down his back with the archive stuff.”
“Okay, yeah, I can give him that,” Tim said, pretending to shiver for emphasis. There was something so unsettling about Elias Bouchard. He wasn’t even particularly rude or mean or even threatening, but everyone had agreed: his vibes were rancid.
After a moment of thinking, Tim reluctantly added, “And I guess I can sort of understand, now. I guess I get it.”
“What?”
“Being someone’s boss,” Tim explained. “Even when you’re not their boss boss, it’s, I dunno, weird. Like with Maizy and them, the people who work with me, I’m- friends with them, we hang out and stuff, but now I feel like I’ve got to be careful what I say sometimes? Since I’m technically their superior or whatever.”
Martin nodded, smiling. “See? So it just took a bit of talking and time for Jon to see he could be more… casual around us. And once he started acting more like himself-”
“And less like a dick,” Tim helpfully supplied.
Martin pretended not to hear him. “Once he could be comfortable around us, I just, I noticed all the little things I guess.”
Tim mulled that over while Martin went back to his food. Eventually Tim said, “I guess that checks out… Still, overall, I can’t imagine liking the guy romantically.”
“You can’t imagine liking anyone romantically,” Martin said playfully.
“Oh, fuck off, Blackwood.”
“And besides,” Martin said behind his napkin, “he’s handsome.”
“Sure, I guess if you like bookish types.”
Martin laughed and pointed an accusing finger at Tim. “You do like bookish types!”
“Yes, and?”
Under their table, Martin gently knocked his ankle against Tim’s. “Are we finally done with this interrogation?”
“I wasn’t interrogating anybody! I just wanted to know what my good friend Martin possibly saw in Dear Mister Bossman Jonathan Sims that was so attractive it made up for years of being a total asshole.”
“If you must know,” Martin said, turning up his nose, “the answer is: having an unfairly sexy voice and using it to infodump about the history of embalming for forty minutes straight.”
Martin left Tim to his laughing fit while he waved down a waitress for their check.