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Jon cursed under his breath as the first droplets of rain hit his head. He had hoped that the storm would wait until after he got back to the safehouse, but of course that could never happen. Not with his luck. And of course he left the umbrella at the safehouse, claiming that he would be just fine and that the storm wouldn't come that fast.
It was sprinkling now, the sky grey and cloudy, the wind a little faster than usual. Everything about the weather was defying what Jon thought would happen. He probably could have Beheld the knowledge that would inform him on how fast the storm was approaching, but Jon was holding back on Beholding if it isn't necessary, for obvious reasons.
Another couple of droplets hit his head, and he knew he couldn't protect himself from getting wet, but at the very least he could protect the tea he had picked up for Martin. So that's what he did. With his jacket collar popped and the box of tea hidden from the rain, he made the trek back to the safehouse.
The walk from the village to the safehouse isn't long, but it does prove to be more difficult, most of the time, as the walk is almost all uphill, and the final hill you have to go up is steeper than most people would be comfortable walking up. The lack of a road does make things much more complicated, as well, and there have been a couple times where Jon ended up getting lost, and, with him refusing to Behold information unless it's dire, he didn't end up getting home for two, three, sometimes even four hours.
Luckily, Jon didn't get too lost this time, and when he finally made it back to the safehouse, Martin was outside in a warm sweater and under a large umbrella, waiting for him. The sight brought him immediate comfort.
"Got your tea," Jon said, just barely refraining from hugging Martin as to not get him wet as well.
"I told you to bring the umbrella for a reason, Jon," Martin scolded, although he couldn't stay mad for long, and they both knew it. This time it only took him five seconds to break and for his stern expression to turn unbearably fond. "Thank you, though. Now let's go inside and get you dried off. You look like you fell into a lake."
It was much warmer in the safehouse, Jon observed as he waited in the doorway for Martin to come back with a towel to dry off with. Much warmer. The fireplace was alive and crackling, and the sofa was covered in blankets where Martin had previously been sitting, mostly likely reading one of the books Daisy kept on the mantle. There was soup on the stove, filling the safehouse with a wonderful smell.
It was safe in the safehouse.
Martin came out of the bedroom with a towel and a fresh pair of clothes. This, to Jon, who was quickly losing energy now that his determination to get home safely and quickly wore off, made Martin look like a knight in shining armor, taking care of him when Jon clearly didn't have the energy to take care of himself. That's when the realization hit him.
Martin is warm. Martin is safe. Martin is the reason why the safehouse is so comfortable.
He couldn't help but kiss Martin when he came to hand him the towel and clothes.
"O-Oh! Jon are you…?" Martin stammered, caught by surprise.
"Sorry, I just remembered how lucky I am to have you," Jon said, almost with a matter-of-factly tone, had his voice not been so soft in that moment.
Martin blushed for a moment before remembering why he had brought all this stuff out in the first place. "Ah, well...you can kiss me all you like after we get you dried off. You're going to catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes any longer."
So they did just that. Jon took off his jacket, shirt, and pants and dried himself off before putting on the pajama pants and sweater that Martin brought him. The sweater was one of Martins, and it practically swallowed Jon whole.
It smells like Martin, too, Jon noted casually, as he cuffed the sleeves to fit him.
They sat together on the sofa in silence for a while after that, Jon swaddled in a very fluffy blanket, eating his soup while Martin curled up on the other side of the sofa, reading his book. It wasn't a bad silence, though. Quite the opposite, really. A very calm, comfortable silence that only occurs between two people who trust each other wholly and who's relationship is so strong and full of trust that it doesn't depend on talking every second of every day.
It wasn't until a droplet of water fell from Jon's hair and down his back, causing a particularly violent shiver ran down Jon's spine, that the silence broke.
"Are you okay?" Martin asked, glancing up from his book with a look of concern
"Yeah, yeah, sorry, my hair's still drying," Jon said. He was more concentrated on finishing his soup than worrying about shivers.
"You can...You can dry your hair, you know. It doesn't have to drip like that," Martin said. He said it with a laugh, like it was funny that his boyfriend hadn't realized something that required such little common sense.
Jon hadn't thought of that, and his face reflected that quite blatantly.
"Oh, Jon...Come here, lemme help you." Martin picked up the towel and started to gently pat down Jon's hair with it. He rubbed Jon's head with the towel for about 30 seconds and then made a towel hat so that it wouldn't drip onto Jon's shoulders, and kissed Jon's forehead as the final cherry on top.
The whole process took less than 2 minutes but Jon wished it would last forever. Mostly the last part, but also the parts when Martin's gentle hands took care of his hair and made sure not to pull his hair or irritate his scalp too much. It was a moment of vulnerability that Jon didn't actually mind for once.
Jon looked up at Martin with an expression softer than clouds. He looked almost as if he were about to cry. He didn't cry, fortunately, but he did give Martin the softest kiss he had ever given anyone in his entire life.
"I love you so, so much, do you know that?" He whispered when they finally broke apart.
"I-" Martin chuckled, "I think you made that pretty clear."
"Good, because you deserve to know it."
Jon crawled onto Martin's lap and hugged him for a very long time, occasionally kissing his cheek or his lips. They stayed like that for a while, basking in the warmth and comfort that the other supplied, hidden away from the roaring storm in their own little world.