Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Martin loved music. Not all music of course, he still had preferences like everyone else, but his tastes tended to vary more than people expected when they first met him.

It was all different types of poetry, in his mind. Even pop songs that his school friends would have called “empty” or made fun of served a purpose in his mind. Even if that purpose was just to make people happy, or get caught in their heads, it was still art.

His favorite music, though, were concept albums and songs that told stories. It didn’t matter what genre they tended towards, Martin had always been drawn into tales of any kind and music only made it easier for him to get hooked on something.

He could still remember the first time he listened to a Mechanisms album. He had been visiting one of his friends in the neighborhood, Arthur, who had come back to visit on break from university along with his older brother Leo.

It had been a good evening so far. Getting to catch up and hang out with one of his few friends almost balanced out the faint envy and sadness Martin felt about not getting to experience going off to school himself. Currently Arthur was out of the room helping with dishes, which left Martin alone with Leo until he came back. Normally that would have been fine, except for the fact that Martin had developed an embarrassingly-large crush on the other boy right before he went off for school, which meant Martin was now left tongue-tied and anxious without the buffer of his friend.

He and Leo had been close before. He was only a few years older than Arthur and Martin and was always willing to spend time with them- often introducing them to new shows and bands, that Martin was more than happy to listen to.

Martin shook himself from his thoughts as Leo stood up to grab his laptop and CD case from the nearby table. Martin felt equal parts relieved that they wouldn’t be waiting out Arthur’s return in (painful) silence, and excitement at what new music he was going to discover. Martin didn’t have much of a chance to listen to music out loud at home, his mother typically tried to make up for her fitful sleep during the day, and when she was awake she was usually not in the mood for music or anything loud to be playing.

Leo sat down next to Martin on the couch, and he had to keep his pulse from racing at their proximity as the older boy popped a disk into his computer and turned to face him.

“Hey so you like Arthurian legends and folklore and all that kind of stuff right?” Leo smiled at Martin.

“Y-Yeah!” Martin managed to answer.

He kept the fact that he had only gotten into folklore after Leo had spent an entire afternoon recounting old Norse tales to him to himself.

The sun had been in Leo’s hair, and Martin had realized that afternoon for the first time that he had feelings for the other boy.

From that point on Martin had been inseparable from any history or mythology book he could get his hands on, hoping to find some bit of lore or trivia that could impress the other boy.

For his part, Leo just grinned and pressed play on his laptop.

With a faint crackle the narration began, a soft but mesmerizing voice introducing the story of the album based on old fairy tales, and as the guitar slowly grew and the voice began singing Martin found himself leaning forwards. He was completely drawn in by the end of the first song. Something about the dissonance in the music, mixed with the variety of the voices and expressive narration grabbed onto Martin’s attention and wouldn’t let him go.

At some point Arthur had come back into the room, but he had just pushed Martin over to give himself room to join them on the couch. Martin hardly noticed, too deeply into the story and the main narrator’s voice to pay attention to much else.

By the time the album finished they were all sitting there in silence, huge grins on each of their faces. Martin’s eyes were a bit misty with tears over the tragic end, but neither Leo nor Arthur said anything.

Instead Leo looked at both of them and declared that he had found a video of one of their performances online, and all three boys immediately crowded back around to see the screen.

Martin could feel his excitement build again as the video loaded and the empty stage filled up with the members of the band. There were more than Martin had realized, and they were all dressed in a steampunk style that had him wishing he was wearing something cooler than a striped jumper. All of a sudden the last figure of the band came onstage, walking to the front and center position stepping into the illuminating lights. Martin’s breath caught in his chest.

That had to be the most beautiful man he had ever seen.

He had dark hair and dark skin, and even on the blurry video Martin could see dark lines of makeup like lighting radiating out from the man’s eyes. He had a pair of goggles along with a long, worn coat and belts criss-crossing his chest. He was shorter than Martin had expected from hearing the force of the narrator’s (“Jonny d’Ville” the man onscreen announced with a flourish) voice on the CD, though he looked to be wearing tall platform boots that added to his stature.

Martin was entranced as said man began to strut about the front of the stage, switching between loud and boisterous joking with the audience, to his dark and captivating narration flawlessly.

It was hard to tear his eyes away, but when the band had gotten to “Our Boy Jack’” the three boys had joined in, singing at the top of their lungs and laughing until Arthur’s mom politely told them that it was time to wrap it up for the night.

Martin went home with a sore throat and a grin so wide it was hurting his face. He went over to Arthur and Leo’s house every chance he had time free from his mom, and the boys blasted The Mechanisms every time.

And if Martin happened to find himself a pair of steampunk-looking goggles at the thrift store after the other two boys had left to go back to school, well, nobody outside of his own room had to know.

Chapter Text

Martin hated his commute. He didn’t live far from the Institute, but it was just far enough that he had to take the tube, and the constant delays lead to a miserable and long journey each day.

The only thing that got him through the daily crowds and misery he faced twice a day was his music. Martin wasn’t the most confident or comfortable guy, which was about as surprising as saying the sky was blue. But it became especially apparent when he had people pressing against him on every side. Thankfully he always had his headphones, and could count on turning on an album and closing his eyes to calm him down when the crowds got to be too much.

His love of The Mechanisms hadn’t faded over the years, and he could rely on their music and stories to take him away on days where the stress was particularly bad. It was embarrassing, but he found himself trying to imitate or harness some of Jonny d’Ville’s confidence and devil-may-care attitude sometimes when he needed a boost. It didn’t always work, but it was a reliable source of grounding and comfort to Martin.

Except for today. Today he had forgotten his headphones.

Martin’s head was pounding. Unable to escape into his head, the roar of the people and the train pounded into Martin’s brain, demanding all of his attention and putting his hackles up and on edge by the time he made it down to the archives.

He mumbled a quick hello to Sasha and Tim as he made a beeline towards the break room, only sparing a quick glance towards the closed door of the Head Archivist office.

Making his way immediately over to the tea pot, Martin finally started to feel his shoulders relax as he sank into the routine of making the morning pot of water and tea. The others never asked for him to make them drinks of course, but it had become part of his morning ritual. A way to settle into the office and feel useful to his coworkers, even on days when he was feeling useless as a researcher.

Martin grabbed the first two mugs of tea once they were ready and made his way back out into the main room, towards Sasha and Tim’s desks. He gave both of them a smile and a warmer greeting as he set the mugs down at their respective stations, feeling better about interacting now that he wasn’t feeling as overwhelmed and prickly.

They finished their pleasantries and Martin walked back into the break room where, like clockwork, Jon’s tea had finished. Martin picked it up and made it over to the closed office door, pausing for a moment to still the silly flutter his heart did before knocking on the door.

He waited for the faint hum of acknowledgement to come through the door before opening it and walking in.

Jon was standing back away from his desk, looking at one of the many filing shelves that lined the walls of the room. He seemed to be concentrating on something on the upper shelf, and he didn’t seem to fully realize that Martin had come into the room.

“I- uh, good morning, Jon!” Martin said cheerily, setting the mug of tea down on Jon’s desk, safely away from any papers or recording equipment. He had learned that lesson the hard way.

The archivist didn’t say anything, which wasn’t entirely a surprise. It was rare for Martin to get the man’s attention when he was concentrating on something else.

Still, Martin tried again.

“Would you like some help with that?” Still no reply.

Martin sighed and started to head for the door before he saw what Jon was apparently focusing on. There was a tape, hard to spot once you were closer in the room but easy from this angle, sitting flat on the upper shelf.

He realized that Jon must have noticed the tape when he came in, and was now trying to stubbornly find a way to reach it because, revelation two, it was above the archivists’ head.

Martin tried, unsuccessfully, to quell the rush of affection for the man. He had been surprised to realize back when he started down in the archives that he was slightly taller than Jon. He had seen him across the institute before when they had been in research and artifact storage respectively, but the other man gave off an air that made him seem much more commanding than his stature, and he and Martin had never spent time close enough before for him to realize.

Of course once he had realized, it became one of the many things about Jonathan Sims that Martin couldn’t get out of his head thanks to his, frankly ridiculous and hopeless crush on his superior. Martin had always had a bit of a protective and providing streak, and being physically larger than Jon had only made it and his crush worse.

Martin also knew, with growing exasperation, that Jon would refuse to give up on getting the tape now that he knew it was there, and equally that he would refuse to ask for help with reaching it, probably preferring to put himself in a dangerous position to reach it before swallowing his pride enough to ask Martin or Tim.

Tim had once suggested getting Jon a step stool. It hadn’t gone well.

The archival assistant sighed, doing his best to hide his fond smile in case Jon saw it and thought he was being patronized, and walked over and plucked the tape off of the shelf.

He handed it to Jon, who looked down at the tape in his hands in surprise, blinking a few times as his brain raced to catch up to Martin being there.

“Ah. Thank you, Martin. I noticed the tape up there and had to get it down and see-”. Jon cut himself off, noticing the tea on the desk finally. “Oh, yes. Thank you for that.” He nodded in the mug’s direction and before continuing, “I assume you still have the file that you were working on yesterday that you could complete?”

Martin recognized the question as a way to get him out of the office so that Jon could get to the mystery of what was on the tape sooner. He didn’t take it as an insult, he knew how the other man could get when he had a question he wanted answers too. Plus, it wasn’t every day he got thanked by Jon, much less twice in a morning, and as pathetic it was he couldn't keep the smile off his face as he returned to the main room. Not even Tim taking one look at his expression and rolling his eyes at him could drag Martin’s mood down.

Of course, the good mood couldn’t last. Martin had apparently made a typo in the file number of a previous statement, a minor mistake, but it led to Jon blowing up at him. The buzzing in his head from that morning returned with a vengeance, robbing Martin of his ability to get work done on his current file and leading to even more frustration.

Martin realized he was spiraling and decided to try and cut himself off from it. Usually he would pop in his headphones and keep his head down as he worked when Jon got to him, or when he was feeling stuck on a case. He wasn’t sure what he could do without them, until he saw a box of files ready to be filed into the archive storage room. Usually it was everyone’s least-favorite task, which meant Martin was stuck with it more often than not, but today he leapt at the opportunity.

Archive storage was separate, off from the main room, and with the thick door Martin should be able to play his music out loud without disturbing anyone else.

He tried to clear his expression as he made his way past Tim and Sasha, grabbing the box and hurting quickly out of the room. Hopefully he hadn’t looked too eager. He didn’t want one of them or Jon to follow him and get a lecture about playing music being “unprofessional” on top of everything else that day.

Martin set the box down on one of the tables in the room before going to close the door. Once it was shut he gave himself a few moments to put his face in his hands a breath, then pulled out his phone and queued up his favorite album.

“High Noon Over Camelot”, perfect.

Martin let the music wash over him, losing himself a bit as he hummed along, mindlessly filing the labeled statements in their correct places.

He made it a few songs before the peaceful bubble was burst by a knock at the door. He sighed and walked over, not entirely surprised when he saw Sasha and Tim standing there.

They looked surprised to see him though.

“Oh! Martin you’re listening to music.” Sasha looked past Martin into the empty room.

Martin glanced back too, in case he was missing something.

“Yes I am. I’m sorry, I forgot my headphones at home today and thought it would be far enough away back here that you wouldn’t be able to hear it from the desk. Was I being too loud?”

Sasha shook her head, still looking a bit confused but at least looking at Martin properly now.

“No no, we didn’t hear it until we got into the hallway.” She said.

At Martin’s questioning look Tim jumped in. “Honestly, you looked pretty upset when you left earlier. We figured you had come down here for some space, which is fine, but Jon left his office not too long after and we were worried he had followed to yell at you again.”

Sasha nodded. “We heard another voice in this room, and honestly it sounded a bit like Jon. We thought he had cornered you, but then it sounded more like singing?” She was smiling at this point, clearly apologetic for the interruption.

Tim for his part just looked amused at the prospect of Jon singing.

Martin couldn’t blame him, feeling a similar smile on his face. While Jon could get a bit lost in narrating horrifying statements, the idea of their stoic boss bursting into song was funny. He smiled, relieved that he hadn’t disturbed the others after all, and that they were concerned about him.

The other two researchers seemed to relax, seeing that Martin was well and truly unharmed, just having a bad day. They offered to join him in filing as an unspoken show of support, and together they put away statements as the album played.

They had been quiet for a while before Tim finally looked back towards Martin’s phone.

“I will say, they do sound awfully familiar.”

Martin’s head shot up, and Tim and Sasha recognized the look on his face as the same one he made when he got carried away talking about poets or different types of teas.
“Oh! Maybe you’ve heard one of their songs before? They’re called The Mechanisms!”

Sasha and Tim both chuckled at how much their companion’s mood had seemed to have improved, and prepared themselves for a long ramble about the oddly-familiar singer.

Outside the storage room a figure quickly ducked around the corner. Jon pressed his back against the hallway wall, hoping desperately that no one had seen him, or that they could somehow hear the pulse pounding in his ears over the music playing.

Chapter Text

Jon sighed as he sat at his desk, trying to fight off the headache that had been slowly building since that morning.

The day had started well enough. Jon had discovered the new tape up on his shelf almost as soon as he walked into his office, and as irritating as it was to have not been able to reach it himself at least he hadn’t had to actually ask for help getting it.

He was sure that the mysterious new tape would have something useful on it, something to connect those mysterious statements that refused to record on his computer. The archivist knew every corner of his office and there had never been a tape on the shelf before, which meant it had to have been something important to appear so suddenly.

Unfortunately it became clear after just a few minutes that all the tape contained was utter nonsense, which left him with the feeling that something was just messing with him. Realizing he had wasted his morning left Jon in a foul mood, made worse by the quickly-growing headache.

In an attempt to try and still feel productive Jon began sorting through the inbox of files completed by his assistants - only to find that the very first one he picked up had been seriously mislabeled.

Jon’s frustration boiled over and he had stormed out of his office, taking the offending file over to Martin’s desk, because of course Martin had been the one to screw up.

Jon knew in the back of his mind that he was being unfair to the other man. If he was thinking clearly he could have accepted it as a simple mistake. Despite the multitude of faults he attributed to the youngest researcher, Jon knew he was a dedicated employee, and his presence did more good for the team than he was often given credit for.

Unfortunately Jon had not been thinking clearly, his head hurt and he had always had trouble with taking his frustration on others.

Martin had looked devastated of course, and Jon could feel the disapproving looks that Sasha and Tim threw at his back as he stalked back into his office.

Jon could feel the shame creeping up his neck as his temper cooled. He had never been good with people, and trying to find his footing as the new boss was making it even more difficult. Still, that was no excuse to behave like he had. He held the archives and staff to a high standard, yes, but he needed to hold himself accountable as well.

Jon looked back out of his office a little while later, finally having mustered up the courage to go apologize to the younger man. He frowned as he realized Martin was no longer in the room. It took him a minute, but his eyes finally landed on the empty storage bin and Jon realized where Martin must have gone.

Well good, it would be easier apologizing to Martin without the other two researchers there to bear witness anyways.

Jon’s mind kept conjuring up images of how they were probably sneering at him as he walked past, clenching his fist to try and settle his nerves. He knew rationally there was no way an apology could make him look worse in their eyes, but Jon had never been particularly skilled at being vulnerable.

He had made it halfway down the hall to the storage room before he noticed something, slowly drawing his attention back out of his head.

Was that...music?

Jon slowed to a stop as he tried to pinpoint the source, and why the song sounded...familiar.

“I’m Lancelot, the sharpest aim
Don’t try to play me at this game
You’re doomed to failure.”

Jon’s heart felt like it had stopped in his chest, his eyes widening in dawning horror.

That was-

How could someone have found-?

His head was rushing with the possibilities. Was someone playing a joke on him? Had someone in the archives found out about his more...colorful university days?

Oh god, had Elias somehow known?

Jon shook his head, that train of thought was ridiculous. It's not as if he had anything music related on his resume, and it wasn't as if he brought up his personal life around the office.

Besides, the only person that had come down that was was-

Martin?

He took a few more steps towards the room so that he could look through the small window in the door. Sure enough Martin was putting away files, and Jon could see his phone sitting out on the main table, the screen lit up as it played.

Jon felt relieved for a moment. In the scenario that someone from work had found his music, it was unlikely that Martin would be the type of person to play a prank on him. Despite the rather...unkind way that Jon might treat him, Martin had never shown himself to be particularly cruel or mocking.

He took a deep breath, trying to build back up the confidence to do what he had come down there to do. The song choice was probably random, something pulled up by an ‘algorithm’ or whatever piece of code made aps pull up music.

Jon knew they had been relatively popular amongst the college and young-adult age bands in the area, but the odds of one of his coworkers happening to find their old music and choosing to play it was too far of a stretch.

Martin didn’t seem to be paying too much attention to the music, and nothing in his manor made Jon think that he had put together the connection between the voice playing over his speakers and the voice that had yelling at him earlier.

Even with that assurance, Jon couldn’t make his feet walk into the room. What if he started talking and Martin recognized his voice? What if he was wrong about Martin after all, and this was all a set up to get back at him for being such a prat of a boss?

Could Martin have been playing nice all this time, waiting for Jon to really mess up and then embarrassing him in front of the rest of the staff?

It made more sense to Jon’s nerves than the other man’s seemingly endless forgiveness towards his treatment in the office.

The sound of footsteps coming down the hall snapped Jon out of his frozen position in front of the door, and he dashed around the corner out of sight as quickly as he could.

Tim and Sasha, shit.

Jon tried to think of something he could do to stop them. Maybe if he walked out and sent them down to Artifact Storage before they could hear the music? No, it would be suspicious if he walked out from behind the corner after being gone all that time.

It was already too much to hope that Martin hadn’t made the connection between him and the music playing. Tim and Sasha were better researchers, surely one of them would figure it out if he went in there and started talking over the song.

Jon had never been upset about his coworkers being too good at their jobs before.

Taking a deep breath, Jon decided to stay hidden. He didn’t want to be face-to-face when they inevitably realized, and maybe if he avoided them for long enough they would all forget, and he could pretend like the way they viewed him hadn’t changed.

The approaching footsteps paused for a moment outside of the door, and Jon could hear the confusion in their tones as they opened the door and walked into the room.

It was too hard to hear what was being said, and Jon decided he had to move closer. Even if he had to listen to their mockery, it was better to know for certain what was being said than to be stuck making up worse scenarios in his head.

“-heard another voice in this room, and honestly it sounded a bit like Jon. We thought he had cornered you, but then it sounded more like singing?”

Jon felt himself freeze as Sasha spoke, only breathing again when he heard Tim chuckle, clearly dismissing the idea.

He tried to convince himself that he was purely relieved that they hadn’t caught on. Obviously that was better than knowing something so intimate about himself.

Still. They didn’t have to think it was quite so outrageous that he might have a life outside of work.

Jon shook his head. A bit stung pride was nothing compared to the mortification of how they could tease him about his past.

It wasn’t that Jon was ashamed of his music, far from it. The other members of The Mechanisms had been his closest friends, still were even if the working world had made staying in touch more difficult.

He was proud of what they accomplished over the years, too. Their following had grown over the years, but it was still rather small. Still, the dedication and passion from their fans had been staggering.

Jon had never been good at opening up to people about his interests. He was always too restless and eager, often annoying the other children he tried to talk to. As he grew older he found himself trying less and less to open up, often turning angry or rude when he was forced to interact or feeling patronized.

He had always loved writing and telling stories, and when he realized that music could be used as a way to share his passion in a way that people enjoyed, well, it was a match made in heaven.

He had joined The Mechanisms in college at the insistence of Georgie. She was one of the few people who knew about his passion for music, and insisted that he try and find other people like himself. It had been good for him. He was able to share his love of music and work together to create something larger than any of them alone.

Jon wasn’t sure which of them had come up with the idea of having alternate personas to write and perform as, but it quickly became the spark that helped them find their voice as a group.

As “Jonny d’Ville” Jon was able to be confident in a way he had never been before; someone who was comfortable in front of a crowd, someone who was able to command attention and flirt and yell, and be praised for all of it. Even better, he was able to rant and ramble and tell the stories he wanted to tell and people actually enjoyed it and listened to him. The eye makeup and outfits had been Georgie’s idea.

They continued for a while after they all graduated college, but eventually they all began their new careers and Jon had found himself accepting an internship at the Magnus Institute. It had been perfect really, a place where he could take his passion for learning about the horror stories of the world and applying them to research. It filled the creative role that The Mechanisms had been for him in college, and he was prepared to leave the band behind as a fond memory of the past. Something to be proud of and reminisce with when he met up with his friends, but not something he wanted to share in his new professional career.

Of course he began working his way up in the institute, and Jon began closing off even the little bits of his personal life he shared with his coworkers. For some reason he was being promoted quickly, and he didn’t need anyone to think he was unprofessional on top of getting ‘special treatment’.

No, he had never been ashamed of the Mechanisms, just wholly unprepared for anyone finding out about it.

The music continued, and it became obvious that it hadn’t been just a random song that had popped into Martin’s playlist. They had been playing through Camelot consistently since he began listening, which meant at the very least he had chosen to put on the album.

To Jon’s relief the conversation in the room had come to a rest after Sasha’s initial question, and he realized that against all odds none of them had made the connection between him and the man singing over Martin’s phone.

He was left standing in the hallway, thinking how strange it was to be hearing his music, hearing himself from a different life, in his place of work. He had almost begun to relax, to enjoy the fond nostalgia that hearing his band mates’ voices always made him feel, someone else joined in on the singing from inside the room.

“Oh my loves, raise a glass to those we leave behind
We may end up dead, with a bullet in the head-”

Martin’s voice was soft, obviously singing without fully realizing it. Still, Jon could clearly hear the man's voice joining in with his own recorded one.

And on the lovers’ song too…”

Jon wasn’t sure why that thought popped into his head, but all of a sudden his agitation was back full-force.

He heard Tim say something, and Martin stopped singing. The archivist had a quick moment of confusing relief before Martin answered Tim’s question.

“Oh! Maybe you’ve heard one of their songs before? They’re called The Mechanisms!”

Jon had accepted that Martin must have owned the album. At the very least he had to be familiar enough with it that he was able to sing along. To say he was unprepared for everything that had happened was an understatement, but he was beginning to accept that it was really happening. Nothing could have gotten him ready to hear Martin say his band’s name so proudly though.

Jon pressed himself closer to the hallway wall, an irrational part of his brain worried that speaking the band’s name out loud would somehow have the power to alert them all to his presence outside in the hall.

From inside the room he could hear Martin’s voice growing louder with excitement.

“I think they were mostly university students, then continued for a bit after? They weren’t like, a household name obviously, but they were pretty popular locally for a while. They’ve been done for a while now but I’ve loved their stuff since I was introduced years ago and-”

His head was spinning. He was all-too-familiar with Martin’s tendency to ramble on subjects he was excited about, but nothing could have made him ready for being on the receiving end of it, even indirectly.

Jon had been prepared for mockery, to have his fond memories of his college life brought forward and used as fuel to embarrass him. What he hadn’t been prepared for was Martin apparently gushing over them.

Martin had started to go off about the use of folklore and world-building and Jon felt his heart squeeze.

That was probably the limit on what he could handle today.

Jon took a deep breath before moving away from the door and trying to make his way down the hall as quietly as possible. He was pretty sure there was an emergency stairwell around the corner that would lead him back to the main lobby without him having to walk past the door and risk being seen.

Even back safely in his office, the rest of the day was an exercise in futility. No matter how hard Jon tried he couldn't get Martin's words out of his head long enough to get anything useful accomplished.

He tried to be angry that the other man was inhibiting his productivity for the second time that day, but for some reason he found he wasn't able to.

Chapter Text

Sasha, Tim, and Martin were back up in the main room of the archives, packing up their things for the day.

Sasha put her empty lunch tupperware in her bag, looking up at her companions.

“Martin, Tim, drinks?”

She and Tim had been friends since their days in Research, and made it a point to go out after work every Tuesday. They had extended a standing invitation to Jon and Martin when they had all been promoted down to the Archives together, but Martin still only joined them on occasion and Jon had never taken them up on it.

“Absolutely!” Tim said with a grin, grabbing the office keys off his desk and going to stand by Sasha, who looked at Martin expectantly.

Martin gave a small smile before shaking his head.

“I’ll have to pass this week, sorry. I’m a bit exhausted.” The youngest researcher laughed apologetically. “You two have fun though!”

Sasha understood of course. While Martin did seem to be in much better spirits than he had been after Jon had snapped at him, it was still a lot to expect him to bounce back completely. He had apologized earlier for making them worry, and explained his dilemma with his commute and headphones that morning. He probably needed quiet time away from people for a bit.

They hadn’t found Jon when they went to look for him in document storage, but when all three of them had come up after they finished organizing the archivist’s door had been firmly shut, and remained like that for the rest of the work day.

Martin grabbed the last of his things, and the three of them made their way up to the institute lobby and out the doors. Martin split off to begin his commute home, and Sasha and Tim linked arms as they started the walk to the nearby pub.

It was popular with the Institute staff, given its convenient location, but since Sasha and Tim had been promoted down to the Archives they had started to socially separate from the other employees. As it was, neither of them recognized any other staff members as they made their way to their usual booth.

Tim grabbed two drinks for them from the bar, handing one to Sasha as he slid into his seat. Sasha rolled her shoulders before taking a long sip, enjoying the feeling of finally relaxing after a long day.

Tim hummed in agreement, sipping his own beer. “It’s too bad Martin didn’t want to come out and relax tonight. It would probably be good for him to let go just a bit.”

Sasha nodded. “It definitely would. I get it though, he probably wanted to catch an earlier train, you know the late night ones get even louder than the morning commuters.”

“It's also probably hard to feel like going out after getting screamed at by your ridiculous librarian crush.” Tim said with a chuckle, rolling his eyes fondly.

Sasha laughed. It had only taken a few weeks for them both to notice Martin’s growing feelings for their new boss, and since then it had become a constant topic of gossip. It was all in good fun though. Despite Jon’s prickliness and Martin’s bumbling, Sasha knew she and Tim both cared about their little team, and wanted them to be happy. That wouldn’t stop them from joking about it along the way though.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying their drinks before Sasha was pulled out her thoughts by Tim laughing suddenly. He took a few moments to settle down before he could explain.

“You know, I think Jon might have a rival for Martin’s affections after all.” Seeing Sasha’s questioning look he elaborated; “It’s just, I haven’t heard him go off about anyone other than Jon with the amount of excitement he had talking about that band today. What was their name again? ‘The Mechanics’ or something?”

She realized what Tim was talking about, joining in on his laughter until she had to wipe a tear from her eye.

“Oh my god, that actually might be less hopeless than waiting for Jon to finally get a clue!” She cackled, taking another drink. “He’s talked about Keats like that before, but we can only pray he doesn’t have some sort of weird-academia-crush on a dead poet.”

Tim snorted. “I wouldn’t put it past him, but I really hope not.”

“Well maybe we can get him a CD of them or something for the office so that he doesn’t have to drain his phone battery every time he wants to listen to them. Could wait and give it to him next time Jon blows up over something stupid.” Sasha thought for a moment, “I think the name was ‘The Mechanisms’, not the ‘Mechanics’.”

“Right!” Tim pulled out his phone, typing the band name into the search bar. “I dunno, I still don't recognize the name, but something about them was really familiar.”

Sasha snickered a bit. “Maybe it was the ‘universal relatability of the mythology, combined with the appeal of modern rock and folk music’.” Sasha quoted, doing her best impression of Martin’s earlier rant down in archive storage.

Tim kept scrolling, laughing at her attempt at Martin’s voice. “Oh yeah, that translates to ‘a very big crush’ in Martin Speak. I think he described Jon’s statement-narration-voice the same way after he had a drink at that first office party.”

Sasha grinned at the memory, putting her mostly-empty glass down. “I wonder if he even knows what any of them look like. Maybe he has a type, and Jon is just the latest in a long line of ‘men who look like they avoid sleep for a living’.”

Tim typed a new search into his phone, pulling up a video. Sasha stood up to join him on his side of the booth so that she could see the screen more easily.

The video started to play, and they both leaned forward as people started to walk onto the stage. It was an older video, obviously filmed on a cellphone and a bit grainy and blown out from the stage lights.

They both froze as the final figure walked onstage.

It was hard to make out the details clearly on the small screen of Tim's phone, but even still-

Sasha and Tim looked at each other as if on cue. The man’s gait was different, more confident and swaggering than anything they had seen from their archivist.The clothing too. It was difficult to reconcile the roguish, steampunk style of the man on the screen with the buttoned-up-precision that seemed to define the Jonathan Sims they knew. Still, under the dark lines of makeup though the man had an uncanny resemblance to what their boss could have looked like in his younger days.

Well, not that much younger if the date of the video and the information Sasha had managed to hack out of Jon’s file had been correct. Apparently all the gray at Jon’s temples had appeared since working for the Magnus Institute, a thought that had Tim unconsciously running his hand through his own hair.

“Okay so maybe Martin just has an extremely specific type and this is all a coincidence because we were just talking about Jo-” Sasha’s attempt at rationalization was cut off by the man onscreen speaking, starting the show as he introduced the other band members onstage with a flourish.

They might not have been able to put it together when just listening to Martin’s CD earlier, but watching the voice and face together eliminated the rest of the doubt in both of their minds.
The video continued on, and Tim and Sasha were unable to tear away their eyes. The next video began to autoplay, and Tim hurriedly went over to the bar for more drinks so that they wouldn’t get kicked out for taking up a booth just to stare at a phone.

They hardly noticed as the pub began to empty around them. Neither of them could have said how long they had been sitting there watching Jon- no, Jonny d’Ville? and the others perform. All of the videos were badly shot concert footage, but even so there was something mesmerizing about the entire thing.

They were Good.

Eventually the pub began to shut down, prompting them to pack up their things. They managed to close out their tab and made it all the way out the door in relative silence, both of them too stunned to chat.

It wasn’t until they made it to the tube entrance to part ways that Sasha broke the silence,

“Martin has two crushes on the same person.” Her voice was hollow, all her concentration going towards trying to control the hysterical laughter threatening to burst out.

Tim’s arm darted out to grab Sasha’s, and when she looked into his face he looked like he was in some sort of crisis.

“Oh my God. Is Jon Hot?!?”

He said it with such horror, like a man that had just learned a terrible fact about himself. Sasha couldn’t help it, she cracked up loudly, not caring about how late it was or the annoyed looks the other pedestrians shot her.

“Yeah I think- I think Jon might be hot.” She finally managed to gasp out between laughs, tears in her eyes as Tim turned his horrified face towards her.

Chapter Text

Martin was the first person in the archives on Wednesday.

He had never been the first person in the office before. The trains along his route were notorious for getting delayed, and that combined with his own general-tardiness ensured that he almost always arrived after the rest of his coworkers.

Tim and Sasha had gone out the night before, so it wasn’t entirely shocking that they would be running a bit behind, but he had never been in the archives when Jon wasn’t already in his office. Even the one time Martin had gotten the day wrong and accidentally shown up on a Saturday, Jon had been there filing. The archivist had claimed he had come in to get extra work done when it was quiet, but Martin had the sneaking suspicion that the man had slept there overnight. He wasn’t sure which of them was more shocked at running into another person.

As it was, Jon’s office door was closed and the lights were all still off. Martin tried to push the worry out of his mind as he turned on the lights, making his way over to his desk. His commute had been relatively smooth. He had found his headphones sitting outside his flat when he had gotten home the night before, and all of his trains had run on time for once. Still, looking at the clock on the wall showed him he wasn’t so early that he should have beaten the rest of the team.

Well, there was a first time for everything, after all.

Martin dropped off his bag before walking over to the break room to get the kettle started. If the others were feeling under the weather, the least he could do is carry on with his own routine and be ready for them. Sure enough, a few minutes later Martin heard the sound of someone else entering the main room.

Poking his head out the door, Martin saw Jon walking in. The other man seemed like he was in a hurry, making his way halfway into the room and towards the desks before stopping and looking around, presumably realizing that someone had turned on the lights.

Martin stepped out of the room properly and gave Jon a small wave. He was feeling better than yesterday; criticism from Jon always hurt, but he knew that’s just how he was. He also knew that he was too fond of the man to stay upset for very long, even if that was a bit more embarrassing to admit. Still, Martin wasn’t expecting to see the man one-on-one quite so soon. He just had to pray that the mix of nerves and butterflies he always felt didn’t show too obviously on his face when there weren’t other people around to distract from it.

“Good- good morning, Jon!”

Jon hesitated, glancing down quickly at the small bag Martin could now see that he was holding, over to Martin’s desk, and finally up to Martin himself, offering a half-wave in return.

“Good morning.” Jon nodded, looking around again. “My, uh, apologies for not being here earlier. I had an errand to run on my way in.”

Martin felt himself smile properly. He knew Jon wasn’t likely to address what had happened the day before, but something about the way he was acting- almost...shy?- made Martin think he might have been just as nervous about seeing him.

“No problem at all! I can finish getting set up out here if you’d like to put your things in your office. Tea should be ready in a moment.”

Jon looked relieved, nodding once again before making his way into the Archivist office. Martin was happy to see he left the door open behind him.

A few minutes later Martin had finished putting Tim and Sasha’s tea on their desks, walking into Jon’s office to deliver his. He caught sight of the archivist’s coat and bags thrown over his chair in the corner, and fought the urge to tell Jon to hang them up properly. He noticed the small grocery bag again, maybe he had to pick up something for lunch? Martin hoped so. He knew he had a tendency to coddle, but he couldn’t stop himself from worrying.

Jon looked like he was going to say something as Martin put down the tea, but whatever it was was interrupted as Sasha and Tim made their entrance.

“Martin, you are an angel!” Tim’s voice rang out loudly from the main room.

With a grin at Jon, Martin walked out of the office. He wasn’t surprised to see that Tim was already sunk down in his chair, taking a long sip from the warm cup in his hands.

Tim let out an exaggerated groan. “Martin I could honestly marry you. Please let me take you away from this horrible spooky library.”

The younger assistant felt his ears heat up and let out a loud laugh. He had gotten used to Tim’s flirting the longer they worked together, and once he had gotten over letting it fluster him they had fallen into a comfortable rhythm.

“Hmm. I’ll consider it.” Martin tapped his chin in mock consideration, making Tim laugh in return.

Sasha rolled her eyes at both of them, putting away her own bags at her desk. “Martin, you're too good for him. Tim, it’s too early to be incorrigible. And you know Jon doesn’t like us using the “S” word.”

Martin grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, Sasha. And sorry I couldn’t join you guys last night, stay out late?” Sasha was hiding it better than Tim, but Martin could tell that both of them were exhausted.

Tim let out another dramatic sigh. “Yeah, you could say that. We started looking up that band you mentioned and kinda got sucked down the rabbit hole until the pub closed, and then I got one of their songs stuck in my head and couldn’t sleep.”

Martin’s could feel his mouth hanging open just a bit. He had hoped of course, that they had liked it. Neither of them had said anything about minding the music while they were listening, and seemed happy enough to let him rant about the band. Still, he hadn’t expected them to actually take the time and look it up for themselves. Martin knew they were friends, but the fact that they took time to look up something so important to him...his chest felt warm in a way he couldn’t explain.

He started to ask a question, he had dozens running around his head now. Did they like it? Which album was their favorite? What song got stuck in Tim’s head?

Luckily his thoughts were cut off by Sasha before he could add any more questions to the list. “Let’s hold off on the interrogation until after lunch. We should probably get to work now that we’re actually here. Before the boss decides he’s done being patient.” She sent a pointed look towards Jon’s office and pulled out a file.

Tim laughed one last time. “Oh yeah, I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear about this.” He said, throwing a look of his own to Jon’s open door that Martin couldn’t interpret.

Martin shrugged his shoulders and sat down, a smile still on his lips. He was looking forward to lunch.

----

Tim had woken up late and exhausted, but with a grin on his face. There weren’t as many hours as he would have liked between when he’d finally gotten home to when his alarm went off in the morning, and his brain hadn’t made sleep any easier, too busy spinning with new information and snippets of music to shut off properly.

Not even the lack of rest could keep down his glee, though. Insomnia wasn’t exactly uncommon for him these days, and if something had to keep him up Tim would take the looping songs over the infernal quiet of his now-too-large apartment any day. Even if the singer of those songs happened to be his boss.

Sasha had messaged him before they got in, and they had made a loose plan on how to go about everything.

Part of Tim had wanted to tell Jon and Martin to their faces, just to see what would happen, but Sasha had convinced him that that would be the wrong way to go about it. Knowing Jon he would probably lash badly out if he was put on the spot, and they really didn’t want to ruin something as important as the music seemed to be to Martin if it went poorly.

“Besides, it’ll be much more fun to give them both a hard time until they figure it out for themselves.”

Tim could practically hear the mirth in Sasha’s voice from the text. He couldn’t tell if he was more delighted or terrified of her at that moment. Either way he made a mental note to never cross Sasha, and to examine the appreciative flutter in his heart it caused later.

He wasn’t quite as confident the other two would manage to figure it out on their own though. Martin’s obliviousness to Jon’s hobby was only rivaled by Jon’s obliviousness towards Martin’s feelings, and they had been working together for months.

Eyes on the long-game. Tim could be patient.

Time was passing slower just to spite him personally, Tim was sure of it.

Step one - flirt with Martin where Jon could hear. Check. That wasn’t exactly part of Sasha’s plan, more-so something Tim did every day already for himself, but he liked to think it also helped further their cause. Either it would cause Jon to finally see Martin in a dateable-light and realize his own feelings, or Martin would fall madly in love with Tim. A win-win.

Step two - mention the Mechs and leave Jon on-edge for a few hours. Of course, that meant he also had to wait. He shot another glare at the clock. There was no way it was meant to run that slowly.

It was probably some freaky thing from artifact storage that made time Wrong. Tim wouldn’t put it past Elias to give them something like that to the archive employees.

At least he wasn’t alone in his agitation, he could see Martin shifting in his seat more and more as they got closer to twelve, no doubt bursting with questions for them.

He risked a glance into Jon’s office. The door had remained open all morning, which was great for their plan, but made it harder to keep the obvious smirk off his own face.

Jon, for his part, only looked mildly more annoyed than usual as he went through files. Tim was certain that wouldn’t last long once lunch started.

His attention was drawn back by Martin getting up from his desk, putting away his files in a way that was clearly trying to look casual.

Tim looked over at Sasha, smiling. He could see the same eagerness on her face that he felt, even if he could tell she was trying to keep it restrained. He put his own files away, grabbing his empty tea mug before making his own way towards the break room.

Martin was already sitting at the small kitchen table, his lunch already out but untouched. Sasha and Tim pulled up seats, trying to arrange their limbs in a way that was comfortable in the tight space. For the amount of funding the archives got, the employee spaces were surprisingly cramped.

Tim took a moment to unwrap his own sandwich, taking a bite and looking at Martin expectantly.

“So, uh, did you...like it?” Martin finally asked. Tim could see the tips of his ears going red beneath the curls of his hair. Tim was glad he was already eating, focusing on swallowing his bite so that he wouldn’t laugh out loud at the anticlimax of the other researcher’s question.

Luckily Sasha saved him from having to answer.

“Absolutely! It was nice to listen to them after hearing your thoughts down in storage! I can see why you like them so much. Reminded me of some of the poems you showed us too, with the history and tragedy and everything.” She smiled, and they watched as Martin’s face heated at the compliment.

“I’m just in it for the outfits.” Tim said with a grin. “You described the whole ‘space pirate’ thing but I don’t think I really got it until the videos.”

Martin looked relieved as the focus shifted from his own work. “Yeah they commit to the aesthetic pretty strongly, it’s great! Hard to really explain without seeing it though I guess.” He chuckled lightly. “Actually, I can't remember the last time I watched the videos myself. It’s been a while since I had the time to.”

Well that would certainly explain some things.

“You should watch them again one of these days!” Sasha encouraged. She was practically leaning forward in her chair.

Tim grinned. Looks like subtlety was quickly going out the window. He couldn’t say he was too disappointed with that. He stretched out in his chair, raising his voice slightly with a quick look at the adjoining wall.

“You really should, Marto, you’re missing out! The main singer, whathisname, Jonny? Real looker that one!” He gave an exaggerated wink towards Martin, who’s blush was back with a vengeance.

He could hear Sasha trying to bite off a laugh next to him, delight filling him as he watched the other man’s face turn bright red. Knew it.

“Martin! Are you blushing? Don’t tell me you’ve got a crush on the pirate man?!” Tim gasped loudly, playing it up for all that he was worth.

There was a quiet but distinct thump from the other side of the wall. If Tim had to guess, it sounded like the noise a mug would make when it was knocked over on a desk.

Tim couldn't help himself, laughter overtaking him as Martin grew redder and redder. Yeah, that was definitely worth not sleeping for.

“S-shut up! I do not!!” Martin hissed, waving out a hand as if to cover Tim’s mouth. It only succeeded in making him laugh harder.

“Oh you absolutely do.” Sasha’s smile looked very reminiscent of the cat that got the canary. “That’s understandable though, they did all look quite dashing, and with good voices to boot.”

There was another quiet scramble of noise from the other side of the wall that Tim was certain only he heard.

Martin hid his face in his hands.

“D’you think Elias would notice if I wore the Toy Soldier’s coat to work?” Tim asked, spreading his arms out to pose, feeling very satisfied with himself. “What do you think, Martin? Think I could rock the steampunk look?”

“No. And I hate both of you.” Martin grumbled, stubbornly keeping his face hidden.

Tim could hear the smile in his voice though, and heard him chuckling along quietly as he and Sasha burst into another round of laughter, smiles still wide as they began to actually eat their lunches.

Step three was off to a very good start.

Chapter Text

Jon knew he must’ve had longer days at work, but if he had he couldn’t remember them.

He hadn’t been tardy at work since his early days as a researcher. Punctuality was something that he liked to pride himself on, and yet he had chosen to stop at the corner store on his way in despite knowing that he was running short on time.

Jon wasn’t entirely sure why he had run the errand. It could very well be a step outside of the professional boundaries he tried so hard to keep up, and heaven knows those were in risk given everything else that had already happened the day before.

Still, as Jon looked down at the small plastic shopping bag in his hand, he felt some of the lingering guilt from the previous day fade away, just a little.

Wrapped up in his thoughts, it took Jon longer than he would care to admit to realize that the lights were already on in the Archives. He had hoped to beat the others to the office and complete his task before there were witnesses, though obviously that hope was now in vain.

There was the sound of shuffling behind him, and Jon turned to see Martin coming out of the break room. His brain stuttered for a moment, his guilt from the day before returning all at once face-to-face with the other man.

Vaguely he waved back, hoping that Martin didn’t notice his disarray.

You are still their boss, for god’s sake. One day should not have thrown you that off track!

Jon’s hand clenched around the shopping bag. “Good morning. My, uh, apologies for not being here earlier. I had an errand to run on my way in.”

Good. Professional, to the point. It shouldn't be that hard you ridiculous man.

He vaguely heard Martin dismiss him, and walked quickly into his office, grateful the other hadn’t tried to ask any further questions about his absence.

With a sigh of relief Jon sat at his desk and tossed his coat haphazardly onto the guest chair. He began setting out his supplies with determination, trying to settle in with the monotony of routine, when his gaze caught on the shopping bag once again.

Given how his luck was, it had probably been too much to hope for that his plan would have gone without a hitch.

Just a minor setback though. Jon reminded himself firmly, trying hard not to give into the voice in the back of his head telling him to just chuck the whole plan out and run. Besides, leaving the peace offering on Martin’s desk without apologizing directly was probably a cowardly plan in the first place.

Jon let out another sigh, centering himself. It was fine. He had managed to beat Sasha and Tim, which meant that he could give it to Martin before they got there and be able to finally carry on with his day.

As if on cue, the curly-haired assistant walked into Jon’s office, customary cup of tea in hand. Jon stared at the small mug, a sudden fresh wave of guilt joining his inner-turmoil.

Jon would have never brought a drink for someone who had snapped at him the day before, especially if they hardly ever acknowledged the gesture in the first place.

The archivist steeled his nerves as the mug was put down on the desk, moving for it immediately as he caught Martin’s eye. Jon opened his mouth, hoping that whatever came out would somehow be a suitable enough apology.

Before he could get the first word out, Tim’s cheery voice interrupted from outside the office.

Jon felt himself freeze up, whatever words he was thinking grinding to a crash before they could be said. He didn’t know what expression he was making as Martin smiled at him before he left, but he hoped it hid the frustration he felt.

He could hear Tim begin to speak again, and felt his mood sour further with each word. The archivist sent a quick glare first at the tea cup, then at the bag on his chair as he heard Martin respond to the mock proposal and attention in kind.

Was he being unfair because he was frustrated at being interrupted? Perhaps. But still, he liked to think that even the most lax of employees would realize that the workplace was not a place for...for... flirtations.

Jon’s brain spat the last word bitterly. He took a sip of the too-hot tea, the scalding liquid burning a path down his throat that only served to justify his growing irritation as it joined the confusing heat in his chest.

He tried not to listen, tried to focus instead on the work he had set out in front of him instead of the chit-chat from his employees. He had halfway succeeded, when Tim’s words grabbed his attention once more.

“We started looking up that band you mentioned and kinda got sucked down the rabbit hole until the pub closed, and then I got one of their songs stuck in my head and couldn’t sleep.”

As if someone had flipped a faucet, the hot irritation switched immediately to cold dread.

He should have known better than to think he was off the hook when no one had immediately recognized the band the day before.

Jon would be proud of his assistant’s ability to investigate their suspicions, if only it wasn’t literally the worst possible case for him.

Normally Sasha cutting in to get the other two on track would be nothing but a relief to Jon. He knew deep down that she had been more than qualified for the Archivist position that he received, and a selfish part of him was thankful that she had chosen to stay anyways, her steady competence something he relied on far more than he had admitted to her out loud.

Something about her tone left him on edge, though, and as Tim joined in he realized what it was.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear about this.”

They Knew.

Sasha might have been better at hiding it, but there was no mistaking the underlying glee and pointedness in Tim’s voice as it echoed out from the main office.

Jon risked a glance up and out his door. Sure enough, the taller assistant was leaning back in his chair making direct, quick, eye contact with him. He gave a sharp grin at Jon, who felt his stomach sink, before leaning forward and out of sight once more.

He was not looking forward to whatever they had in store for him at noon.

----

Jon was familiar with fear. His career was built around researching and cataloging the deepest, most fearful experiences of people’s lives. He had resigned himself to this possibility of the others finding out about his past the day before as he listened to them in archival storage, but he’d been lulled into a false sense of security when no one had mentioned it when they returned to the office.

‘The Fear of Being Known’ - how many statements had he come across with that theme? How many had he dismissed and threw away as if they were nothing? Perhaps this was some cosmic joke to get back at him, or a way of balancing the scales with his own fear. Maybe if he made a statement himself the next Archivist would file him away like he had done with all the others.

“Statement of Jonathan Sims regarding his coworkers’ discovery of his college steampunk phase, and his inability to cross his professional and personal life.”

Jon let out a desperate little laugh at the notion, successfully distracted from his stare-off with the clock as it slowly made its way towards the twelve. Rationally he knew he was being overdramatic. He could imagine clearly how Georgie would be laughing at him if she knew how he was behaving.

Fortunately it seemed like they were serious about waiting until lunch to converse any further on the matter, which soothed the part of Jon’s brain that was still able to be concerned about productivity. Jon almost wished they had gotten on with it so that he didn’t have to put up with the agonizing wait, but he suspected that his anticipation might have been part of the point, if they were in fact doing this to spite him.

The closer the time got, the more Jon felt his panic turn to resolved acceptance. There was nothing for him to do about it now, he couldn’t exactly make them un-know what they had figured out. He just had to maintain his dignity and get through the embarrassment.

It didn’t seem like Martin knew yet, which was a small relief. He knew that the other two cared for the younger assistant, and he trusted them not to hurt him with their teasing. No, this would most likely all be targeted at Jon, for better or for worse.

Jon tried to look like he was working as he heard his assistants get up to prepare for lunch. He might have to sit through this, but there was no chance he was giving them the satisfaction of seeing him bothered if they happened to look into his office.

He waited until it sounded like they had all settled in, before taking a deep breath and looking up from his file towards the wall his office shared with the break room. He had thought about leaving, but like the day before he decided that it was better to know for sure what was being said then having to guess. Plus, it would feel like admitting some sort of defeat if he ran away now.

Besides, it was his responsibility as their boss to make sure that nothing was taken too far and hurt Martin.

Plus you want to hear what he has to say about you. The smaller, praise-starved part of Jon’s mind tried to assert. Luckily, Jon had years of experience dismissing ridiculous thoughts like that.

“So, uh, did you...like it?” Martin’s voice came through the wall muffled and hesitant, but understandable.

Jon fought the childish urge to hit his head on the desk. If that was Martin’s idea of an investigative question then it was no wonder his witness interviews were so lacking.

Before he could make a note to himself to ask Elias if it would be appropriate to run another lecture on basic research questions, Sasha responded.

Martin wrote poetry? Jon tried to remember if he had been told that before, but he couldn’t. He knew that the assistants to one another than with him, that was by design. Still, there was an ugly feeling in his chest at the reminder of how much he had missed from closing them all off, even as he felt his face heat up from Sasha’s positive answer.

Maybe he could use this to try and open up a bit more, if he survived. Obviously Sasha still respected him, and he liked to think that he was beginning to prove his ability to fulfill his role as the archivist, even if he still felt under-qualified most days. He would probably have to apologize less if he eased up a bit in the first place.

“I’m just in it for the outfits. You described the whole ‘space pirate’ thing but I don’t think I really got it until the videos.” Of course Tim had to speak up and dash the growing feelings of good will to the floor.

“You should watch them again one of these days!” Sasha’s voice joined in, and Jon could hear the glee in her voice as well.

Forget the lecture, maybe he could ask Elias for all new assistants.

“The main singer, whathisname, Jonny? Real looker that one!”

Jon would definitely need new assistants. He was going to kill those two.

He barely heard it when Tim continued, the blood rushing to his face from Tim’s flirtations ringing loud in his ears.

“-Are you blushing? Don’t tell me you’ve got a crush on the pirate man?!”

The quiet crash of Jon’s mug hitting the floor snapped Jon out of his shock, embarrassment and panic quickly hitting him in succession. He wasn’t sure how he had knocked it over, only that one moment it had been sitting there, and the next Tim had been talking about crus- about crushes.

Letting out a quiet swear, Jon scrambled out of his chair to pick up the (thankfully still-intact) mug and find something to wipe up the last few drops of tea that had spilled onto the desk.

God, there was no way that someone hadn’t heard that. Tim’s laughter through the walls confirmed that he, at least, had.

If Jon had thought he was flushed before, that was nothing compared to how he felt now.

It was ridiculous. Obviously they were just making wild accusations to embarrass Jon, and that Martin was overwhelmed by the questioning. That was the only possible explanation for why his voice sounded the way it had when he denied it.

Jon’s heart beat wildly, and he absently clutched the fabric of his shirt above his chest before he realized what he was doing.

But what if Martin actually-

No. He was not going to let that sentence complete. One, it was obviously false, and therefore a waste of time. And two, even if they were right Martin did have....feelings...they were only for the fantasy of the musician-personas they all played in to. There was no way he would carry on those feelings if he knew it was actually Jon, his miserable boss, that was under the stage makeup and bravado.

Not that he wanted Martin to have those feelings for him anyways. Obviously.

Jon dropped the papers he had tried to pick up away from the spill when Sasha’s voice broke him from his thoughts once more.

He was being absurd. None of what happened that day had been workplace appropriate, and he should have shut their conversation down before it had gotten that far.
The room fell silent after the last of the laughter died down, and with only some relief Jon realized that their lunch break had finished.

----

As hard as he tried, Jon couldn’t get what had happened out of his head for the rest of the day. He wasn’t sure how time had managed to pass so quickly, or if he had actually managed to accomplish anything. Another reason to hate office gossip. He hadn’t realized that he had been reading the same statement for a third time, until a shadow fell across his desk.

Jon looked up, and couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised to see Martin standing there.The taller man was wearing his coat and bag, and Jon realized belatedly that it was time to leave.

He waited to see the other man to address why he was there, but he seemed to be distracted, looking around Jon’s office with a small line between his furrowed eyebrows. Jon followed the other man’s gaze, and saw that Martin was frowning at the shopping bag that he had thrown on the chair that morning.

Christ, he had almost forgotten about apologizing.

Jon cleared his throat, and felt his pulse race slightly as Martin’s attention snapped back to him.

“Sorry Jon, I just came to tell you that we were heading out for the evening. You hadn’t come out of the office since this morning, so I just wanted to check on you.” Martin’s voice was apologetic, and Jon was hit again by the realization about how unfair he had been.

Martin’s gaze fell back on the plastic bag as Jon watched, the line between his brows getting deeper.

“Did you take a break at all today, Jon? You never came into the break room, and I thought you must have brought in something but-” His assistant shook his head, cutting himself off, and Jon realized that it was probably the best chance he would get to carry out his plan.

“Ah, no actually, I got a bit...caught up in statements.” That wasn’t necessarily true, but there was no way Jon was going to tell him that he had been hiding all day. Besides, he knew that getting caught up in work was a much more plausible excuse.

“Actually, Martin, if you could sit down there is something I’ve been meaning to speak to you about.” Jon stood up quickly, grabbing the bag and his coat off of the guest chair and gesturing for the assistant to take a seat.

He tried to ignore how the other man’s face seemed to flush, and the guilt that he was probably getting ready to be reprimanded again.
Martin nodded and swallowed, sitting down in the chair.

Jon glanced out the door to see if Tim and Sasha were still at their desks, but thankfully it appeared to be empty. He let out a breath, trying to steel his nerves, and went to sit back down. As he did, something caught his eye.

Something white was sticking out of Martin’s pocket, something that looked suspiciously like…

Jon felt his throat go dry, his hands tightening on the plastic bag as he fought the urge to throw it under the desk.

“Did you-...ah, did you find your headphones, then?” Jon swallowed, cringing internally as his mind frantically tried to think of a new course of action.

Martin looked confused for a moment, then saw where Jon’s gaze was directed and pulled the headphones out of his pocket with a smile.

“Oh, yes! Yes I found them last night on my doorstep, they must have fallen out when I was leaving for the tube station and I didn’t realize!”

His smile faded after a moment as Jon sat there, staring at them. “Was...was that what you wanted to talk to me about?” He said, uncertainty creeping back into his voice. “I’m sorry the music distracted you yesterday, I didn’t think that anyone would be able to hear from artifact storage.” His voice trailed off at the end of the sentence, and Jon felt like kicking himself for adding another thing that Martin felt like he was being corrected on.

“No! No it wasn’t that at all. I just…I heard you mentioning how hard your commute was without them and I thought- I mean, obviously you don’t need a replacement now, but I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday, and I figured that this-” Jon closed his mouth with a click, opening the plastic bag and pulling out the packaged pair of headphones he had gotten from the corner store.

“They aren’t the best, obviously, but I thought they could be better than nothing, If you don’t need them though, I can just return-”

“N-no that’s not necessary!!” Martin’s voice cut him off, and Jon looked up with surprise at the taller man. His hands were outstretched in front of him, and Jon could see that his face was bright red. Jon could feel a similar heat in his cheeks as well, and elected to ignore it.

“S-sorry, it’s just. You don’t have to return them! That’s really kind of you, I mean, to take the time to go and get them. Obviously I have trouble keeping track of the ones I have, so a backup pair is probably a good idea! I’d be happy to accept them, how much do I owe you?”

Jon shook his head, putting the package on the desk in front of Martin. “You don’t owe me anything, Martin. They’re a gift. If you want them, that is.”

He ran a hand through his hair absolutely, breaking eye contact and staring at the wall before continuing. “Like I said, or am trying to say, I’m sorry for yelling yesterday. I was frustrated with something else and shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Jon glanced quickly back over to where the other man was sitting. “And...I’m sorry for all the previous times as well. That was unprofessional of me, and I’ll try my best not to repeat that mistake in the future.”

Martin’s face looked comically shocked, and Jon watched his mouth work silently for a moment before he finally spoke, voice quiet. “Apology accepted, thank you, Jon.” He reached out to take the headphones, almost reverently, and Jon felt a weight ease off of his chest.

“Right, well. Good. That was all I suppose.” Jon ran his hand through his hair again and Martin nodded silently, still looked shocked as he made his way to stand up and leave.

Jon stood up before he could stop himself, and Martin turned back around quickly in surprise.

“I...um. I certainly hope you’re not seriously considering Tim’s proposal of marriage.” The words left his mouth before Jon’s brain could catch up and stop him.

Martin for his part, looked just as confused as Jon felt, before he remembered Tim’s comment from that morning and realized Jon was joking.

He smiled wide, letting out a soft, shy laugh.

“No, I’m not. I don’t think he’s really my type.” He threw one last gin at Jon as he walked about the door, and the archivist was left alone trying to interpret what on earth that meant, and why he felt relieved.

Chapter Text

Jon was not entirely surprised to see Tim waiting for him outside the archives when he came in the next morning, standing outside the main doors with a lazy grin. His initial dread quickly morphed into resolve, and he grabbed the other man’s arm to walk the few straps into the adjacent alley.

“Alright, out with it. What do you want?” Jon whispered harshly, crossing his arms in annoyance.

Tim simply continued to smile at him for a moment, before responding at a significantly louder volume.

“Why boss, if I didn't know any better I’d say it sounds like you’ve got something to hide. What on earth would Elias or Martin say if they saw you drag one of your poor assistants into an alleyway like this?”

Jon tried his best not to rise to the bait, but couldn't stop himself from looking back at the doors in worry, turning back when he heard Tim laugh.

“Don’t worry, Elias is already in his office, and Sasha is keeping watch outside Martin’s tube station. She’ll text me if he’s getting close.”

Jon simply raised an eyebrow. “How clandestine. Now if you only applied that same level of caution and forethought to your work, we might actually stand a chance of organizing this archive before we all expire.”

Tim laughed again, and the last of Jon’s remaining nerves were overtaken by annoyance.

“No need to talk about work yet boss, neither of us are on the clock! Besides, we figured you’d prefer to talk about this outside of the Institute.”

“Yes yes, you two figured out that I used to be in a band and want to torture me about it, how remarkable for professional researchers.” Jon hoped the sarcasm in his tone hid his nerves. Tim was right, he was glad that they weren’t having this discussion in their workplace, but at least Sasha would have been there to keep things from getting too personal. He wasn’t sure how much of their supposed plan Tim had agreed to or how much was just Sasha's influence, and it was making him defensive all over again.

For his part, Tim mostly looked unfazed at the acid in the other man’s words. “Torture you? Nah. As tempting as that might be, Sasha wouldn’t let me do that. And we’d never make fun of something Martin obviously cares about. God knows he had enough reason to be jumpy already.”

Tim gave Jon a significant look at that.

Jon felt a pang of guilt. He had apologized to Martin for yelling at him of course, but he knew that one apology didn’t make up for everything he had done over the months. Especially since it was apparently enough for even Tim and Sasha to notice and worry about. Jon swallowed. “You- ah, you weren’t planning on telling him, were you?”

Finally Tim let his grin drop, morphing into a smaller, kinder smile. “Nope, you don’t gotta worry about that from us. We couldn’t think of a way where that would go well for either of you, and it’s not our secret to tell.”

Jon felt his shoulders fall a bit in relief.

“Of course, that doesn’t mean that you’re entirely off the hook. Because you were a bloody immortal space pirate for years and thought you could keep that a secret. From your team of ‘professional researchers’.” Tim let his voice drop into an approximation of Jon’s voice on the last two words, and Jon felt himself groan. “You had Sasha break into police records. Did you really think we wouldn’t find you on youtube?”

Jon’s shoulders stiffened again and he set his jaw stubbornly.

Tim seemed to notice he was close to hitting a nerve, and his tone softened again. “You know it’s pretty amazing though, right? What you guys did?” He paused for Jon to react, and sighed when he stayed silent instead.

“I mean, you’re all seriously talented. I wasn’t kidding when I said I had your songs stuck in my head. Sure we looked up the videos at first because like, you’re our boss and seeing you like that was a shock, but you guys are pretty darn awesome. Plus, I’m pretty sure every kid has a dream of being in a band or being a pirate, and you literally did both!

We weren’t exaggerating with the praise, and It’s not like Martin knew it was you so obviously those were his genuine feelings too.”

Jon tried to keep the emotions he felt off his face as best he could. Tim must have noticed though, because he stopped forward to put a hand on Jon’s shoulder.

“I’ve worked with you for 5 years. I told you about getting my trouser leg caught in the train door last week. Did you really think letting us in on a piece of your personal life would wreck that?” His voice was softer now, the mischief in it in equal parts to his fondness.

“You’re an idiot. And we’re absolutely going to tease you about being an idiot. But you’re pretty cool sometimes, boss.”

Tim let his hand drop and stepped back, turning back to the Institute’s doors. “You’re gonna have to hurry if you want to keep your record of beating us to work Jonny-boy!”

---

It had been a very tiring couple of weeks.

Jon could admit that he was a bit of a workaholic. His coworkers would most likely call that an understatement, and it most likely was, but the fact remained that Jon never had an issue losing himself in his work. Of course, he had never had to focus on work in this particular situation before, and navigating the new waters instead of his normal routine had Jon going home exhausted more days than not.

It wasn’t that the teasing was constant. Most days passed the same as they always had, Jon picking through statements and passing one ones that needed further review or investigation onto his team. Typically the reminders that his team knew were more subtle than the first lunch interview. One of them would ask Martin what he was listening to on his new headphones (Jon had felt something warm stir in his chest the first day Martin had come into the office wearing the pair he had picked out), or Jon would pass by Tim’s desk to hear him humming a bar of Mech’s music to himself. On one memorable occasion Sasha referred to herself as his ‘first mate’ after she had finished giving a report.

All things considered it had been rather tame - even supportive, in a strange way. He knew Tim had promised as such when he had stopped him outside, but it was still a relief that he and Sasha seemed to be sticking to it. And that support and relief was what was throwing him off more than anything.

Jon had grown comfortable with the distance he put between his work life and what little private life he had, even reliant on it. He had thought the wall crashing down between them would have ruined everything, destroyed the illusion of seniority that he leaned on to handle his new position. Instead it seemed to do the exact opposite.

The first few days of him running out of the room whenever music was mentioned might not have been the most dignified reaction, but Tim and Sasha still completed their work and followed his instruction (as much as they ever had), and he was starting to adjust to the new level of camaraderie between them.

Bit by bit Jon realized he enjoyed being more open, that he was growing comfortable around the others in a way he rarely was. It was still terrifying at times; a couple of weeks wasn’t exactly enough time to rewrite his old habits, and it had always been hard to quiet the voice in his head that was prone to overthinking and worry.

Still, he was trying. The next time he passed by Tim’s desk and saw him searching for ‘steampunk coats’ with his monitor turned so that it was obvious, Jon simply raised an eyebrow before continuing back to his office.

“Those are nice, Tim, but I do think they’d look better on me.” He had called out, and even through his office door he could hear Sasha’s laughter.

Even Martin seemed to notice the change in his behavior. He was less nervous when he approached Jon, and his work had improved as well. He had even started leaving notes in the margins of his reports like Tim and Sasha did, and Jon felt something like pride whenever his observations proved to be helpful. Slowly but surely he took over larger projects, his insight and ability to read and comfort nervous or traumatized statement-givers proving invaluable.

Jon made sure to thank Martin properly every time he brought him his tea in the morning, and tried to spend a few minutes in casual conversation when he did. It was awkward at first, Martin clearly hadn’t figured out why Jon’s attitude had changed so suddenly, and Jon was out of practice with small talk and pleasantries.

He began to look forward to their chats though, cherished the moments he got the other man to laugh or smile, or even talk-back on a few occasions, without any hint of his usual nerves. Martin seemed to enjoy them as well, stopping by more and more frequently during the day. It wasn’t all smooth sailing of course. Jon’s personality had always been prickly, but he was learning that he was fortunate enough to have found people who worked around and with it.

His worry about the others finding out faded as the days went on, and slowly another concern started to take the top spot in his mind.

Tim had mentioned Martin’s feelings about him- about the band being genuine. Jon knew he was probably referring to Martin’s praise of the music, and not the-...well, the crush.
Because that was the thing, wasn’t it? If everything they had said was true, and Jon was finding it harder and harder to believe the voice in his head that insisted it was all some big joke as the days went on, that meant there was a possibility that Martin actually did feel that way about him. Or, at least one version of him.

Maybe it was just the ‘rockstar mystique’, or just the personas and stories they told, but “Jonny deVille” was still Jon, and the more time passed the more Jon realized he was hoping Martin would see it that way if he ever found out.

Despite that hope, it still took Jon a few more days to realize that he might have similar feelings for the curly-haired researcher.

It wasn’t anything major that led to the realization, if he really thought about it. He and Martin had been talking as Jon packed up his office to leave for the evening, and Martin picked Jon’s empty mug off the desk to take to the kitchen on their way out.

Jon caught himself staring at the mug. It was the same one he had knocked off his desk when he had overheard them teasing Martin about his crush in the break room. Objectively-speaking had been far from the biggest revelation that day, and yet that had been what had gotten him to react the most.

Jon was glad that it was a Friday, because he felt his ability to process anything apart from that revelation sleeping further and further away by the moment. He managed to say a proper goodbye when he and Martin reached the Institute doors, only vaguely recognizing the worried look on the other man’s face before walking as quickly as he could away towards his train.

-----

The weekend consisted of cycles of Jon trying to think about his feelings and what they might mean, pacing, worrying about the implications of getting romantically involved with a coworker, pacing, and in one particularly frazzled moment; texting Georgie everything that had happened.

Obviously she could read the panic behind the paragraphs because she had come over a few hours later once she had finished recording, armed to the teeth with movies and alcohol.

They ended up sitting on Jon’s floor, blasting Once Upon a Time in Space as loud as Jon’s speakers would allow and singing at the top of their lungs.

It felt good to be reminded of some of the fun of his college days, and Jon realized not for the first time how grateful he was for a friend like Georgie.

By the time Monday came around, Jon had the beginnings of a plan.

----

Luckily Jon’s streak of being beaten to work by his coworkers had ended and he was the first to arrive Monday morning, which was fortunate because he took one look at Martin’s empty desk and had to remember how to breath normally.

You are a grown man, act like it.. This time the voice in his head had sounded suspiciously like Georgie.

His plan wasn’t anything special, but it did revolve around how the first step went. Jon had realized that, while he had heard his assistants talk about the Mechanisms themselves plenty of times, and Sasha and Tim had both talked to him about it, he had never once discussed them directly with Martin himself.

If Jon wanted his relationship with Martin to...evolve, and wasn’t planning on keeping his former-musical-double-life (Georgie’s words) a secret forever, then he would have to be able to talk about them with Martin.

It made sense of course, but that didn’t make the prospect any less daunting. Jon had grown used to the comments praise from Tim and Sasha, but any time Martin spoke up about his musical tastes Jon found himself flustered, and that was without being directly involved in the conversation and his newly-realized-feelings piling on.

Sasha and Tim were next in the office, to Jon’s only-slight disappointment. He had given himself until the end of the day to act, and he wasn’t sure if he would have been ready to face the man alone first thing in the morning, as much as the nervous part of his heart wanted him to get it over with.

Both researches called out their usual greetings, and he gave a brief wave through the open door of his office. Evidently they must have seen something on his face, because Sasha was back in his doorway after she had finished setting her things down at his desk.

“So. Going to talk to him about it then?” She said it like a question, but it was clear it wasn’t one.

Her face lit up in a genuine smile when Jon nodded, and it had some of his nerves melting away at the sight. “About time. I told Tim that if you two talked before Friday that I would get to be the one to give you both the shovel talk.”

Jon buried his face in his hands with a groan. He really should have been used to his coworker’s version of teasing reassurance by now.

“I had assumed you might have something planned when you asked if the open invitation to Tuesday drinks still stood, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I should have known though, you never text.”

Jon lifted his head and looked at her, taking in the twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “And tell me, did this wager with Tim happen before or after I texted you with a date clearly before this Friday?”

Sasha laughed, her smile growing. “That is for a lady to know, and you to find out when I give my speech to you happy kids. She paused, looking at Jon with fondness even his brain couldn’t deny. “You’re going to do great, boss. I’m truly happy for both of you.”

Jon felt a small but genuine smile on his face, confidence in what was ahead of him bolstered just a bit at her words.

A little while later Jon heard another person enter the archives, and his heart sped up again. Sure enough he heard Tim’s overly-flirtatious greeting followed by Martin’s soft laugh as the footsteps made their way over to where Jon knew the desks were, then to the break room.

Jon tried his best to act casual, staying firmly at his desk as he heard the soft click of the electric kettle followed by the sound of mugs being taken off the dryer rack. He fought the urge to get up- either to go see the other man or run out of the Institute doors, he wasn’t entirely sure- as he listened to the familiar noises of Martin’s morning routine.

That routine was interrupted, however, by Sasha’s voice coming from the main room.

“Martin? What’s this on your desk-...oh.”

The other man’s footsteps hurried quickly out of the break room and Jon couldn’t fight off his own curiosity, taking a breath before standing up to leave his office.

Sasha was at Martin’s desk, holding something in her hands while Tim and Martin stood around her, blocking Jon’s view of what it could be.

He could hear Martin saying something, but all of a sudden his ears seemed to stop working as he finally laid eyes on what it was.

In Sasha’s hands were a pair of goggles.

They looked a little cheap and worse for wear, like whoever had owned them had had them for quite some time, but they were undeniably steampunk in fashion. Looking closer, Jon could see where the paint had flecked away, revealing another color underneath, as if they had been repainted to resemble a different pair.

A very familiar pair. Jon thought with a start, his heart lurching as he remembered the pair of weathered goggles sitting in his own apartment, in a box full of CDs and lyric pages.

Martin must have heard him approach, because he turned around to look at Jon when he came to a halt behind him. Jon could see the beginnings of a blush rising on his face, his voice sheepish and almost apologetic as he looked at Jon.

“Y-yeah those are mine.” He laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck in a habit Jon had realized he did when he was embarrassed. “I bought them for myself after I listened to my first Mechanisms album, and they’ve just been kind of sitting in my room since then, and I figured they’d be a nice, y’know, desk decoration or something since we've talked about them here and stuff.” Martin took a breath, cutting off the stream of words before making eye contact with Jon.

“Is that a problem? I wasn’t sure if it was okay to decorate our desks down here, but we were allowed to have small things up in research and artifact storage so I figured it might be alright.”

Jon watched Martin’s face fall slightly in the moment it took him to swallow down the lump in his throat enough to speak.

“That-” Jon cleared his throat, wincing slightly at how strangled his words still sounded. “That is more than fine, Martin. They’re lovely.” He nodded once firmly before turning away and walking back to his office. He could only hope it didn’t look as much like him retreating as it felt.

Thankfully the rest of the day passes without incident, thoroughly agonizingly slow. And Jon can hardly look at Martin’s desk without losing any last bit of eloquence he had.

For his part, Martin hadn’t seemed to notice. At least until the end of the day.

He had come to tell Jon he was heading home and to ask if he was as well, which had become something of a new routine for the both of them. Jon still worked late more often than not, but the improved workflow along with his coworkers being more vocal in their concerns for his “well-being” had Jon going home at regular hours semi-regularly, something that would have shocked him a few weeks before.

“Sorry Martin, I’ve got one more recording to finish up here, you should go.” Jon took a second to steel himself before he continued. “Before you do though, there is something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

The look on Martin’s face at that was hard to interpret, though Jon did his best. It looked nervous, which was understandable, but it didn’t look to be the same sort of apprehension that Jon could remember from back before their working relationship had started to improve.

He watched as Martin fidgeted with his hands slightly, before nodding and sitting down. “Of course, Jon.” Jon saw him swallow as he looked up at him. “If this is about the goggles I can take them down. It was just a silly idea really.” His voice tapered off at the end, and Jon felt a pang in his heart that wasn’t just coming from his feelings for the other man.

“No, they’re fine where they are, if you like them there of course. I meant what I said before, they’re quite lovely.” Jon paused, this was the difficult part. “I actually wanted to ask something else about them, partially-related.

Thankfully Martin’s nerves looked like they had shifted more towards polite confusion than hurt.

“I was wondering...what about their music do you like so much?” Jon couldn’t make himself say his band name, it felt like too fragile a thing in that moment to risk saying it and giving something away.

Martin for his part just looked stunned now, and Jon watched as the beginnings of excitement crept onto his face.

“Oh! Well that’s difficult to say, I guess. You’ve heard us talking about them, then?” Jon just nodded at the question. “Sorry about that, I know I have the tendency to carry on sometimes.” Martin smiled sheepishly at him. “If you’ve heard all that then I guess you know most of it….but if I had to say just one part, I guess it would be the stories?”

Jon leaned forward, frowning slightly in concentration as he took in the answer. “The stories?” He finally managed to ask.

Martin nodded, and Jon could tell he was gaining confidence with Jon’s apparent interest in the answer. “Yeah. It’s just...You know the saying about how stories can take you away? Help you travel and see different worlds and all that?” This time he didn’t wait for Jon to respond. “Well I guess it’s a bit like that. And for a kid who never really got to travel, I was always drawn to things like that.”

Jon smiled slightly, fondness overtaking him. He still wanted to know more though, the familiar feeling of needing to understand everything creeping over him. “So would any narrative album do the trick, or was it something specific about them?”

Brows furrowed slightly, Martin took another moment to think. “Well, I suppose I like anything with a story. I’m not super picky about genre or theme, so they aren’t separate in that sense. I guess they stand out because, well. Most any story can take you away from your home, and their music is one of the few that make you feel like you have a new home.”

“They’re travelling all across the universe, telling you dreadfully sad stories and encounters; and even though most of them end in tragedy, the bonds between all the characters and the crew feels like something you are being welcomed into.” Martin shook his head slightly as he broke out of his thoughts, looking at Jon with a small smile. “I guess they always just made me feel less lonely.”

The lump in Jon’s throat had been joined by a faint prickling in his eyes, and he forced himself to blink it away harshly.

“I-I’m glad to hear it-I mean-” Jon swore under his breath, fully aware that the way he was acting was probably concerning. He looked at Martin’s smile, and all of a sudden felt a matching one grow on his face.

“I often feel similarly about stories myself. I’m glad they’ve been that for you.” Jon’s smile widened, a breathless sort of hope growing in his chest. “I genuinely hope they continue to do so, Martin.”

Martin blinked once, his smile looking a bit dazed and still a little confused, but it’s warmth matched the blush on his cheeks, and the matching one Jon could feel on his own face.

“Don’t work too late, Jon.” He said kindly, turning to walk out the door with one more smile and a small wave.

Jon let his thoughts linger on that smile for a few moments after he heard the archive door close, before looking back at the tape recorder on his desk and clearing his throat.

He had one more recording to do.

Chapter Text

Martin couldn’t remember the last time things in his life were going so smoothly.

He had always gotten along with his coworkers at the Magnus Institute, even before he had been selected to work in the archives. Still, there had always been the fear of being discovered, of the others finding out he had lied about his qualifications and rejecting him, and it had built a wall of nerves around him that made it hard to be anything more than surface-level close with any of them.

Now, though, he had friends. Real, honest-to-god friends, something he hadn’t had in a long time. His friends from secondary school had tried of course, but they quickly got consumed with university, and Martin had to jump into the working world, taking on more and more hours to pay for his mother’s expenses once she moved out.

Martin had gotten used to the loneliness. His move to the archives had only made things worse at first; he was cut off from the few people he had known at the institute, and the promotion added an extra layer of anxiety and under-qualification onto his shoulders. Not to mention the mortifyingly unprofessional crush that he developed on his new boss within the first few weeks.

And yet, somehow, things were good. He knew Sasha and Tim didn’t think much of him at first professionally, but that had never stopped them from inviting him out anyways, and he could tell they appreciated and cared about him now. They even shared his interests in music now, which was something Martin never would have expected.

The more comfortable he got around the others, the more his work improved, too. He was still completely underqualified, but he had always been a quick learner (once the fear of discovery and anxiety gradually stopped taking up so much of his focus), and he felt each day that he was contributing more and more to their task of organizing the endless files.

Even Jon seemed to be warming up to him, something that made Martin's heart speed up when he thought about it for too long. At first it had just seemed like Jon was staying true to his apology. He was still snippy on occasion, but his remarks far cries from what they had been before, and Martin could tell that he was trying. He even seemed closer with Sasha and Tim, occasionally joining them for lunch when they were able to drag him out of his office.

It went beyond that though, and Martin would have written it all off as wishful thinking if it hadn't been so consistent. Jon had started stopping by his desk more during the day, and not just to check on his work progress. They just…talked, small talk that Martin, if he was being honest, hadn’t been entirely sure Jon was capable of up until that point.

The first time he heard Jon tell Tim a joke, Martin had almost fallen out of his chair.

Martin smiled to himself, and looked at the pair of goggles hanging off the side of the lamp on his desk. That had been another surprise.

He knew it was probably a risk, even given the improved moral in the office, to bring in his silly memento for decoration. Still, he decided to take the chance. No one else had seen them before, and for some reason he wanted to be able to share that little bit of himself with his coworkers, even if they couldn't stay on display.

Jon seemed like he was going to reject the idea entirely, when he had first come out of his office the day before. Martin had spent...quite a bit of time familiarizing himself with Jon’s face, but he was still unable to interpret the emotion he saw there when the other man first laid his eyes on the goggles in Sasha’s hand.

Shock, yes, and something else that had Martin’s pulse picking up nervously. The apprehension had lingered until he stopped by Jon’s office before leaving, where it was exchanged for surprise and excitement as the other man assured him they were alright, and then asked him about the music.

Not only that, but Jon had seemed strangely invested in hearing his answer, hanging on every word as Martin tried to clumsily explain his feelings.

If that’s what it felt to have Jon’s undivided attention, Martin could understand why so many visitors sought to give their statements directly instead of just writing in.

Martin shook his head before he got too lost in lost in thoughts and wishful thinking.

It had been a relatively quiet day, Tim and Sasha both had cases that referenced items down in artifacts storage, and decided to go together instead of risking the “spooky” (Tim’s word) atmosphere on their own. Jon hadn’t come out of his office since that morning, and Martin would have been worried about the man if it wasn’t for the small smile he had given Martin when he dropped off his tea that morning. New clothes, and the bags under his eyes were no worse than normal, so at least he had gone home at one point and wasn’t just crashing in the office.

Unfortunately, that meant Martin was the only one at the assistant’s desks, making it far too easy to tune out and daydream about the way Jon had smiled at him when he talked about stories the day before.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps approaching. Turning his chair quickly, Martin saw Jon standing next to his desk, and felt his cheeks heat slightly.

“Oh! Hullo Jon! Did you need something?”

Jon, for his part, looked just as flustered as Martin felt for some reason.

“Yes actually.” He paused to look at the two other empty desks. “Are Sasha and Tim still downstairs?”

Martin nodded quickly, straightening up in his chair. “Yeah, they’re both still in artifact storage, though I’m not sure for how much longer. Sasha would have probably been faster without Tim down there ‘helping’.” He gave a small grin at Jon, and felt it grow on his face when the other man laughed in return.

“You’re probably right, in all honesty.” Jon chuckled lightly. “Well, I have to run upstairs and track down a statement that one of the research student’s apparently has checked out, but this tape needs reviewing before the end of the day. I’m not sure how much time I’ll have left after hunting the file down, and since Sasha and Tim are both out would you mind…?”

Martin was already nodding as Jon held out the small tape, trying his best not to blush when Jon’s hand brushed against his as he reached for it.

“Absolutely! No problem at all!”

Jon gave him another smile. “Thank you Martin, I appreciate it. I’ll check in once I’m back to hear your thoughts.” He seemed relieved, though his shoulders remained tense.

Probably just worried about tracking down the file. Martin thought. He didn’t envy the other man, he had been sent on plenty of wild goose chases trying to find Institute materials that had wound up with students and different departments. It was never a fun task.

“Well, I hope you don’t have too much trouble with the file. Give them hell if they didn’t check it out properly!”

With one more small laugh Jon walked away, and Martin was left alone with the tape and a smile on his face.

“Alright then, let’s see what you’re all about.” Martin said as he pulled out the small player from his desk and set it up, looking at the tape in his hand as he did so.

It looked rather new and was completely unlabeled, which was unusual but not unheard of in the archive. They wouldn’t need three archive assistants if organizing the mess was an easy task.

The tape made a small click as it slid into place, and with a click of the play button the all-too-familiar sound of static and tape spooling filled the room.

Martin had just reached out to grab his pencil and notepad, as the sound of someone clearing their throat played over the speaker.

"Ahem. Well. Time to get this started then.”

The pencil went flying across the desks in surprise, and Martin looked at the tape with wide eyes.

That was Jon’s voice? Something sounded different about that Martin couldn’t quite put his finger on, but it was definitely Jon. But if he recorded this tape why would he need Martin to-

His thoughts were cut off as the recording continued.

"Statement of Jonny d’Ville- your humble and eloquent Captain-in-all-but-name- on behalf of the crew of the Aurora spaceship. Statement to be passed onto one ‘Martin Blackwood’, whoever that may be.”

Martin felt his mind race, trying to make sense of what he was hearing, but it was proving impossible.

"Now, we’re just about the furthest thing from a courier service you could picture, and I don’t much like the idea of being the errand-runner for some librarian. Typically the only things we exchange between people are money, blood, and some good-new-fashioned violent fun."

There is a crackling sigh, before the man starts speaking again.

"But what the hell. We’ve been a lot of things in our time; pirates, gods, soldiers, even military leaders at one point, though I try my best not to think about the Toy Soldier’s antics too often. But never messengers."

"So, for the sake of new adventure, and because Nastya insists that the Aurora wanted us to pass on these words exactly, we’re sending this message:

'Martin Blackwood; if you ever happen to find yourself dying in the blackness of space, and don’t mind the idea of replacing one or more of your body parts with machines...well, we can’t exactly offer the services of or doctor, because we threw her out of an airlock, but on the off-chance she does come back and doesn’t immediately kill us all, you are welcome to join us.’

"Now, as the person most in charge here, I would like to add that I retain the final authority to approve any and all new crew members, but you have quite the recommendation behind you."

"According to our source you mentioned how you admired the adventures we went on, which is most certainly a point in your favor, and mentioned how you thought of us as one big…’family’, of sorts. Well, I don’t know about all that, and I don’t know why you would want to be associated with this group of assholes, but our source did say something else about you."

"They said: ‘A crew is only as good as the people who make it feel like one. Any group of people can work in the same space, but it takes someone truly special to bring them together. Someone who would take it upon themselves again and again to look after the rest, not for thanks or notice, but because they care. Someone who is able to take a spooky old archive, and share bits of themselves until it feels like home.’

"Well, sounds pretty stupid to put yourself through all that, if you ask me, but clearly whoever wrote this admires those qualities. I will say this though, off the record-”

The voice shifts slightly, landing somewhere between the rough voice of the outlaw, and the strict archivist that Martin had fallen for.

"Anybody can tell a good story. Ours benefit from many lifetimes of experience- and of course- our roguish charm and bravery, but at the end of the day any old sod could string words together until someone liked it. I can’t imagine that poetry became popular for any other reason."

"What is needed to truly make a story worth anything, is someone to listen. Someone to hear what is being said and carries it with them. Who lets it live as more than just written or sung words. From the sounds of it, you’re a pretty good listener, Martin."

The voice shifts back fully into the energy and cadence of Jonny d’Ville.

"Well then, that just about wraps things up here! If I leave the crew alone too long they’re likely to start another mutiny, and it sounds like you have your own handful of assholes to deal with there, so I’d best be going. Statement ends."

-----

Martin wasn’t sure how to describe how he was feeling. His throat was starting to feel hoarse from swallowing down the lump of emotions, and laughing out loud in turns. His cheeks hurt from the size of the smile no doubt plastered there, and when he reached up a hand to rub at them they came away slightly damp from crying. Over all of it, his shock layed like a soft blanket, muffling it into sensations he could more-easily process as he put the pieces together of what he just heard.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, listening to the whir of the tape going after the recording ended.

Eventually his attention was brought back by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Martin lifted his eyes, and couldn’t find any surprise to spare at seeing Jon standing in front of his desk once more, looking even more nervous than he had when he had left..

“So, ah, did you have any thoughts regarding the statement?” Jon tried his best to keep his voice level, but Martin could see his eyes darting from the space just above Martin’s head down to the tape recorder, hands fidgeting in his pockets. Finally his gaze must have settled on Martin long enough to notice the tears, because his eyes widened instantly and he leaned over the desk.

“Oh god, Martin I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you at work, that was a stupid plan! I’m so sorry! It’s just- I couldn’t think of any better way to tell you, and even that took a few tries because I wasn’t sure you’d understand, and it’s probably wildly inappropriate and-”

Martin couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing again. His laughter grew even louder as he saw Jon’s face: shocked at his reaction and at being so completely cut off.

“Jon- oh my gosh Jon you’re fine, just-” Martin chuckled a little helplessly, blinking away a few final tears as he smiled up at Jon’s confused face. “Thank you. I mean it. That has to be one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.”

Relief washed over Jon’s face, posture visibly relaxing as he gave a small smile in return. “So you don't...mind? That Jonny is me. I mean- that I wrote some of the songs-.”

Martin shook his head, still smiling. “Of course not! I mean, I don’t think I’ve fully processed it? So I can’t promise that I won’t wake up tomorrow and feel like my younger self is having a meltdown. But for now I’m just…” He takes a breath and looks up at Jon. “I’m just really happy. A little embarrassed that you heard, y’know, everything in the office, but I’m going to save thinking about that later for both of our sake.”

Jon laughed at that, the last of the tension finally leaving his frame. “Right, well. I’m more than fine with that plan if you are, though there was one more thing I wanted to ask you?”

Martin felt his pulse pick up, mouth suddenly dry. “O-oh?”

Jon nodded firmly, seemingly taking a moment to steel himself. “I was. Well...it’s Tuesday, and I know that’s typically when Tim and Sasha go out for drinks, and I know they invited both of us along already, so it doesn't really make much of a difference, but I was wondering if you...wanted to go...with me?” The words came out strangled at the end, the blush on his neck growing across his face the longer he spoke.

There was an answering blush on Martin’s own face, and he could feel his mouth hanging slightly open as once again tried to process the words he was hearing.

“Are you-” Martin blinked a few times rapidly as it began to sink in. “Are you…asking me out?”

Jon’s mouth closed with an audible click, and Martin watched as he fought off the urge to snap out of embarrassment and habit. “Yes, obviously. I mean. Was it obvious? I thought I had made my feelings clear on the tape but-”

Martin let out an honest-to-god snort as he started to laugh once more, through the shock and heart-shattering joy he could feel growing in his chest.

“No it wasn’t obvious!! The only feelings you mentioned was ‘admiration’ through a third party, you ridiculous man!”

Jon groaned, putting his face in his hands, though it didn’t fully hide the smile on his lips.

“Well it was a lot easier that way than in person!” He replied, voice caught between exasperation and laughter.

He took a deep sigh, and lifted his head back up to look at Martin directly.
“Martin I…ahem it has come to my attention- I’m not sure how long it’s been there, but I only realized recently- that is to say...I have…feelings for you, Martin. I care about you.” A deep breath. “And I am trying to ask if you would like to come with me out for drinks tonight. And if it goes well, if you would like to do so again in the future, without our coworkers- who are absolutely going to be far too smug about this- and see how well we do outside of work. If you would be...amenable to that.”

Martin almost shook his head in wonder, before he realized what that gesture might be interpreted as. His heart was threatening to burst out of his chest, and he doesn’t think he would be able to stop smiling if his life depended on it.

This man, this ridiculous man, who somehow manages to write the most beautiful stories and read the most horrifying statements without a single error, and yet can’t admit something personal without an entire setup, or ask someone out without looking like he was ready to run out the institute doors and never return.

Martin was head over heels for him.

He looked at Jon for another moment, just smiling at him in wonder, before responding. “I would be very amenable to that, Jon. N-nothing…honestly nothing would make me happier.”

If you’d ask Martin, the smile that broke across Jon’s face was enough to light up the entire archive. Though Martin was a poet at heart, and incredibly biased, so maybe that was a slight exaggeration.

“Great! T-that’s really great. Good. Right, well, I suppose you wouldn’t want to go now?”

Jon suddenly looked embarrassed all over again at the confused look Martin sent him, and hurried to explain.

“I might have...exaggerated when I said I had to hunt down the file upstairs. I just wanted to give you space to listen. Plus it’s almost the end of the day, and I’m fairly certain that Sasha is just keeping Tim down in Artifact Storage to give us a chance to talk, so there’s really nothing left here to do.”

He gave Martin a look that could almost be interpreted as sly. “Besides, someone keeps telling me that I need to look after myself and take more time off work.”

Martin laughed at that as he started to put away his materials from the day. “Oh, I see how it is. Using me as an excuse to get out of work already, then? I’m shocked at you, Jonathan Sims.”

Jon let out an answering laugh, and Martin decided that he very much wanted to keep hearing that sound.

“I know, I might not even go into overtime this week. What will Elias say?” Jon replied, his voice jokingly grave.

With a final shuffle of files, Martin finished cleaning up and looked at Jon with a shudder. “God, I don’t even want to think about that. I can't decide whether he’d be happier about the budget, or angry that I’m ruining his archivist.”

Martin stood up, then paused, looking at the other desks. “Hang on, you said Sasha was giving us time to talk? Did she know about all of this?”

Jon shot him a guilty look as they both made their way towards the door.

“Ah, right. I should probably explain-”

-----------

Martin tried to hide his smile in his drink as Tim reluctantly handed Sasha his card to pay for the next round. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jon watching, amusement clear on his face.

“Aw come on, Sash. Isn’t missing out on getting to give my boss the ‘relationship’ talk punishment enough? I had a whole speech prepared!”

Sasha laughed, waving the card as she stood up to make her way to the bar. “Sorry Tim, you should have had a bit more faith in them when placing your bet! It’s not my fault they decided to get their act together after all this time!” She leaned over to ruffle his hair as she went, and his scowl didn’t entirely mask the smile underneath.

Martin laughed as she went, and nudged Jon’s shoulder with his own. “I still can’t believe you guys knew this whole time. You’re the worst excuse for friends. Just wait until we find out something about one of you two and tease you about it for weeks.”

Tim grinned and gestured to himself. “Sorry Marto, I’m an open book! Anything you want to know, or see, is already up for grabs!” He winked, and took a long sip of his drink.

Next to him, Martin felt Jon shift, sitting up straighter, and tried to hold down his blush as the other man’s hands briefly tightened on his.

“Actually, Martin. There might be something Tim isn’t telling us.” Jon’s voice sounded serious, but Martin could see something almost like mischief in his eyes.

Evidently Tim could as well, because he sat up straighter too, turning a challenging smirk towards the other man. “Oh really? And what might that be, Mr. All-Knowing-Boss-Man?”

Jon took his time answering, swallowing the last of his beer before looking first at Martin, then Tim. He raised an eyebrow and grinned, humor now clearly written across his face.

“Well, Sasha was telling me about the first time you two came here and watched the videos. I’ll admit I never thought my coworkers would have stumbled across old Youtube footage, but that’s my fault for not expecting something like this.”

He paused, and Martin had to resist the urge to roll his eyes fondly at the dramatics of it all.

“Sasha told me that, ater you two watched the videos, one of you might have said something along the lines of ‘Jonny d’Ville being hot’.”

The grin on Jon’s face was now a full smirk, and Martin couldn’t help but snort into his drink when he saw the horror dawning on Tim’s face.

“Now, I don’t blame you of course, he does have quite the charm to him, in his own way. Still, Tim, if you were interested all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to set up this entire plot to get me and Martin togeth-”

“SASHA!” Tim yelled, scrambling out of his chair as he hurried over towards where she stood at the bar.

Martin was fairly certain they could still hear the sound of his and Jon’s laughter across the entire crowd.

He was also certain that Jon’s laughter was on its way to being his favorite music.