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“What are we talking about?” Tim asked, sidling up to his coworkers as they clustered around the Archives kitchen.
Based on how Jon was scowling, the answer was obvious. The Archivist growled, “Lukas.”
Basira shared a quick, amused look with Melanie. “It was a little shifty, yeah, but it really isn’t worth getting this worked up over. Besides, it’ll probably be good for Martin.”
“Joining the Dark Side?” Jon muttered.
“I hear they get paid real money in Admin,” she said. “So yes.”
“If I were you, I’d be thanking Lukas. Now, you can finally ask out Martin like a normal person.” Tim put on an exaggerated wide-eyed look. “Oh wait.”
Jon shot him a glare as the kettle whistled behind him.
“Look, Jon, I get that you don’t want to hook up with your employees. That’s why you’ve never gone after me, and why you broke it off with B over here.”
Basira snorted, grabbing the kettle to pour herself a cup. “You know that’s not true. Didn’t you start that rumor?”
“Technically, Jon started it. I just spread it around.”
“I said we were friends!”
“Yeah, and you were blatantly lying.”
Jon groaned. “Can we please stop talking about my non-existent love life?”
Tim casually swiped the milk as Jon reached for it. “Not until it starts existing. No worries, though. We’re gonna crowdsource this shit. Melanie, ideas?”
“Go fuck yourself?” she offered with a sweet smile.
“Intriguing, but off-topic. Basira?”
“Talk to him like an adult."
“Boring,” Tim said. “Here’s one: Grab his ass.”
Jon let out a slow, calming breath as his hands fisted at his side. “Please be serious.”
“Oh, I’m deadly serious. I bet he’d love the whole dominance thing. He got really sloshed once at happy hour, and trust me, the dude has daddy issues up to his eyeballs.” Tim snapped his fingers. “Better idea: I’m gonna be your wingman.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Look, did I get you a Christmas present this year?”
“You’ve never gotten me anything.” Jon raised an eyebrow. “Also, it’s July.”
“Right, I’m pretty late, then. That’s why I have to get you something good -- like Martin. I’ll talk you up to him.”
Jon said, “Martin and I have been working together for three years.”
Tim shrugged. “Which means I’m gonna have to work some real magic here. Maybe make up a tragic backstory or something. You’re an orphan, right?”
“What?!” Jon said, nearly knocking over his tea.
“Got this!” Tim called over his shoulder as he jogged to the break room upstairs, where Martin and Sasha were having lunch. He slid into a seat. “Sup, traitors?”
Sasha shrugged lightly. “Not our fault we’re on to bigger and better things. How’s life in the Archive?”
He winked. “Living the dream.”
Martin looked a bit sheepish, like he’d taken that “traitors” comment to heart. “How’s Jon?”
“Sad and bitter. But hey, what else is new? You finally gonna tap that?”
Martin choked on his sandwich.
“You’re gonna have to work on your gag reflex,” Tim observed.
Sasha snorted. “I could report you to HR.”
“You could, but Elias will never fire me. I know too much.” Tim leaned in close to Martin, getting all up in the guy’s personal space. “For example, I know that now is the time to finally make a move. Unless you were only into Jon because of the whole ‘forbidden fruit’ thing. Which I respect.”
Martin scooted his chair back a few inches. “No! I mean, I like him, but I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m an idiot.”
“He does not think you’re an idiot,” Sasha said. “I mean, he might have at first because he’s an idiot. But definitely not now.”
“Well, that’s good. I guess. But I don’t even know where I would start with him...I mean, it’s Jon. ”
“Grab his ass,” Tim said.
“What?” Martin squawked.
“Should I just put HR on speed dial?” Sasha asked.
“I’m just saying, he’s so repressed that he would probably cream his pants.”
“I’m not going to...No!” Martin said.
“Fine, fine. If you wanna make it complicated.” Tim gave a loose, lazy shrug. “I’ll wingman you.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea...”
Tim stood up, clapping Martin on the shoulder as he left the room. “No problem. I have enough confidence for the both of us. I’m gonna go talk you up to him.”
Tim headed straight to Jon’s office, giving him a thumbs up. “It went great!”
Jon set down his tape recorder, the stress lines on his forehead instantly deepening. “Please tell me you didn’t go full Oliver Twist.”
“Nah. I might have stolen some stuff from Annie, though, so if you’re rich or could be rich in a couple of weeks, that would be a plus.”
“You’re joking.”
“Also, I may have implied you have an awful, incurable disease. I figured he deserved some heads-up about your personality.”
Jon pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“You’re also doing dinner tonight.”
“We are?”
“Yep. Eight o’clock, and you’ll pick him up at his place. Bring flowers. I’ll text you the address. You should leave the office at a normal-person time and put on something that makes you look your actual age. Or you could reeeeally lean into the stodgy professor thing. Like I said: Daddy issues.”
“I…never mind,” Jon muttered, deciding not to address the more problematic parts of that statement. “Thank you, Tim.”
“Anytime! Just remember this when you’re deciding on my raise for this year.”
Tim then sauntered over to Martin’s office, “Knock, knock” he said while pushing open the door. “You’re free tonight, right?”
“I guess, yeah. Why?” Martin asked.
“Cool. This would have been really awkward if you had plans, but I figured you didn’t since you always get all weird when I ask about your weekend. Anyway, I got you a dinner date.”
“Really? He’s...actually interested?”
“I’m magic.” Tim did jazz hands. “Now, I may have implied that you’re having a torrid love affair with Lukas to get him jealous and territorial.”
Martin cast a horrified look at the door to Peter Lukas’s office. “It’s not like that at all!”
Tim sat on the corner of Martin’s desk, gesturing slowly between them. “I know that. You know that. Hell, Jon probably knows it if he thinks for two seconds. But his caveman brain wants to club you over the head and drag you back to his cave.”
“Huh,” Martin said, the start of a blush creeping up his neck.
Tim whistled. “That do it for you? Knew you were kinky. One more thing.”
Martin visibly prepared for a blow. “Just tell me.”
“He might think you’re like, super easy. That wasn’t really what I was going for, but I did throw around the phrase “daddy issues” a lot, so that might have been the message he received.
Martin made a small, pained noise. “Alright. Anything else?”
“Dinner at eight. He’ll pick you up at your place. Also, y’know, the normal stuff: Be confident. Be yourself. But not too confident and not too yourself.” Tim grinned down at him. “You’ve got this.”
Jon brought flowers. Not because Tim told him to, but he felt like he ought to bring something and Tim hadn’t seemed to be actively sabotaging him at the time. So...flowers.
Jon waited outside a slightly shabby building, feeling slightly shabby himself in one of the few T-shirts he owned with an open button-down shirt layered on top. He had been aiming for casual, but “casual” doesn’t usually involve agonizing over the right shirt for twenty minutes and then changing it three more times before leaving the house
Martin walked down the stairs, stumbling over his feet like an overexcited puppy. He smiled, all freckles and sincerity. “You got me flowers!”
“Yes. I did,” Jon said, pushing them into his date’s hands.
“I guess I should put these in water. That’s what people do, isn’t it? I don’t really have a vase, but I’m sure I have something. Do you mind if I go up to my apartment? I would invite you up but, um…” Martin flushed red. “Anyway. Just a minute.”
Jon watched him jog up the steps, lips tilted up in a barely-there smile. This was...nice. Possibly a pity date, depending on what Tim had told Martin. But still.
“Back!” Martin called as he skidded down the steps a few minutes later.
“So you are,” Jon said with fondness. They began the walk toward the small Italian restaurant that Tim had recommended while the Archivist searched for a conversation topic that wasn’t work-related. “How’s the poetry coming along?”
“Alright,” Martin said. “I’m writing, so that’s always exciting.”
“Anything in particular?”
Martin flushed again. “N-no?
The restaurant was cramped and dark, with one elderly waiter who peered suspiciously at them when they turned away. Martin tucked himself into the booth. “Have you been here before?”
“No,” Jon said as he sat across from him. “Tim said it was good. In retrospect, that probably should have worried me. It looks like a front for money laundering. We could go somewhere else, if you’d prefer.”
“No, this is fine. They have cannolis, so it can’t be all bad.
“Alright,” Jon said with a dubious tone. “You want to split a pizza?”
Martin stared down at the menu, worrying his lip. His hands were shaking. “Um…”
“We don’t have to,” Jon quickly added.
Martin set down the menu, eyes still on the table. “No, pizza is fine. Any topping. I just, um, I’m not going to be able to eat unless I ask, so I’m just going to come out and say it: I don’t know what Tim said to you to get you to go on a date with me, but I’m very concerned about what Tim said to you to get you to go on a date with me.”
Jon chuckled, slightly relieved. “I know what you mean. Tim lies a lot.”
“He does,” Martin said emphatically, looking up to meet Jon’s eyes. “Did he really use the phrase ‘daddy issues?’”
“Repeatedly. If it makes you feel any better, he probably could have said the same thing about me, under the circumstances. To be clear, I might have been an orphan, but I wasn’t sleeping on the streets and begging for another serving of gruel.”
“You’re an orphan?”
“I thought Tim had mentioned that. It, uh...” Jon busied his hands straightening the menu.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” Martin said quickly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
Jon softened his tone. “It’s alright. It’s a first date. A bit of prying is recommended, I think. My father died when I was two, and my mother passed a few years after. I grew up with my grandmother.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Martin said. “It was always just my mum and me, so--”
The waiter interrupted, grumbling, “What do you want ?”
They ordered, and the waiter slinked away to the back. Jon leaned over the table, bringing him temptingly close to Martin. “We can still make a break for it.”
“I’m committed now,” he said cheerfully. “Speaking of, since apparently Tim has started spreading that rumor, I am definitely not sleeping with Peter.”
Jon’s voice lowered, and he rested a hand lightly on top of Martin’s. “Good. If he tried anything, I would have to kill him.”
Martin shivered. “I, uh, thought Tim was joking about the whole caveman thing.”
Jon blinked. “The what?”
“Also, daddy issues or not...and, uh, it’s definitely a not , thank you very much...I’m not just going to fall into bed with you.” Martin glanced down at the hand covering his. “Well, probably not.”
“About that,” Jon said, withdrawing his hand. “I’m asexual.”
“Alright,” Martin said, reaching across the table to snag Jon’s hand again.
Jon blinked. “Alright?”
Martin gave him a sheepish smile, head slightly ducked. “I sort of figured. Heard a few things around the Institute.”
Jon’s brow furrowed. “Really? I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned it to anyone at work.”
“Oh, uh, well, I’m not sure exactly how it happened. But I think Melanie is friends with one of your friends. Melanie told Basira, who’s usually pretty good at keeping secrets. But it was happy hour, and Tim kept offering people free shots, so…”
“I can imagine.”
“Sorry,” Martin said. “Didn’t mean to talk about you behind your back.”
Jon shook his head, gently squeezing Martin’s hand. “It’s fine. It wasn’t exactly a secret anyway. Have people been decent about it?”
“Of course,” Martin said, like he couldn’t imagine any other alternative. “I think people were more surprised you had friends outside of work, honestly.”
Jon barked out a laugh. “I do actually go out sometimes, although I’ll admit I’m a bit of a workaholic.”
Martin gave him a skeptical look. “A bit?”
“...If Tim mentioned a tragic, incurable illness, that might have been what he had in mind,” Jon said with a twinkle in his eye.
The waiter dropped a pizza on their table and ground out, “Enjoy.”
That Monday, Daisy approached Tim while he was pretending to work. She was playing with a switchblade. She wasn’t technically supposed to have that in the building, but no one had the balls to take it away from her. “I heard from Basira that you offered to get Jon a date with Martin.”
“Yep.”
Daisy flicked open her blade. “And I heard from Sasha that you offered to get Martin a date with Jon.”
“Yep.”
She flipped it closed. “Why didn’t you just tell them they liked each other and let them sort it out?”
Tim leaned back in his chair. “And betray the confidence they showed me? Absolutely not. I am not that kind of friend.”
Daisy flicked the blade back open, lightly tracing it over a pad of sticky notes. “Right.”
“I got Jon to shut up about Lukas. I got to mess with their heads a bit. Everyone owes me a favor now. I was a decent-ish friend. And I’m probably getting an invite to the wedding. Win, win, win, win…” Tim paused for a moment, then added. “Win.”
“You think Jon brought his tape recorder on that date?”
Tim fished around in his desk drawer, pulling out a tape and flashing her a grin. “Want a copy?”