Work Text:
It’s another late night at the archives for Martin.
He’s been working on this follow-up since noon but he wants it- no, needs it - to be perfect for Jon. His snippy, permanently irritated boss who has taken a special dislike to him. This dislike didn’t extend to Tim and Sasha. In fact, he almost seems friendly with them. Martin wants that, but every attempt at friendliness has been categorically denied. The only time Jon seems to be happy with him is when he brings him tea. Even then he doesn’t smile, but at least he isn’t yelling.
Sasha left earlier after some muttering with Tim in the hallway. They’re always whispering, coming in and out of Jon’s office and casting furtive glances his way. It makes him feel terribly left out, but that’s not unusual.
This time he’s sure he’s alone, that he must have missed Jon leaving because he hasn’t heard a peep out of the Head Archivist’s office. Jon could usually be heard rustling papers and muttering into that little tape recorder of his.
Martin’s just about ready to give up on his work when hears the sound of a door creaking open and a slant of light coming from Jon’s office. No one appears, so Martin assumes it’s a draft. It’s particularly cold down here in the archives.
He gets about twenty more minutes of work done before he decides to call it a night. He’s hungry and tired, and Jon’s a stickler for accuracy. Fighting back a groan as he stiffly rises from his seat, Martin grabs his mug and makes his way to the break room to get it cleaned. The lights are off and it’s very, very quiet.
When he flicks on the light, he realizes he’s not alone.
Jon is there. Jon is there and he’s perched on the counter, kicking his legs back and forth and... smiling? His face is sweet and open, a look that makes him almost unrecognizable. It’s...adorable. Martin’s always found him cute, even when he’s yelling. But this is something else.
“Mah-tin!” he chirps. Chirps. The voice is oddly high and childish. He wonders if he’s dreaming. Jon’s got his head tilted like a curious cat and his hands dart out in a grabby motion.
“Mah-tin!” His voice becomes more demanding; if he were standing, Martin is sure he would be stamping his feet. He moves forward like a sleepwalker towards Jon’s hands- what is he supposed to do, not respond?
“U-Uh, hi Jon?” He inches closer to the counter and Jon smiles at him, actually smiles. He should smile more often, it lights up his whole face and makes him look years younger. How old is Jon anyway? He acts like a middle-aged man, or he usually does. But right now, perched on the counter and bouncing up and down in those rumpled clothes, he looks impossibly young.
It must have taken him too long to reach the counter because Jon launches himself at Martin, wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around Martin’s waist. He squeezes and Martin’s pretty sure he’s going to black out, or perhaps he’s already blacked out and this is some sort of sick fever-dream. His arms immediately go to wrap around Jon and give him support. God, he thinks, he’s so bony. Almost worryingly so. But he’s so warm and sweet right now, nuzzling his face into Martin’s shoulder and still giving him that sunny smile. “Soft!” he giggles into his chest and Martin almost dies right there. Should he say something? Or would that ruin whatever moment they were having here, weird as it was?
“...Jon?” he hesitantly asks. “Are you okay?”
He only gets a happy hum in response as Jon closes his eyes and tucks his chin onto Martin’s shoulder. He’s waiting for someone to come out of the shadows and tell him this is all an elaborate joke to embarrass him about his very obvious crush. He can feel his face heating up as Jon almost purrs in delight at being held in Martin’s arms.
And then a sharp, stinging pain erupts in his shoulder.
“Jon! I said no biting!”
Martin turns around to see Tim in the doorway, panting as if he ran a mile. And Jon’s got a mouthful of Martin’s sweater, blinking innocently up at him. Jonathan Sims just bit him. And it hurt like hell.
“I’m really sorry about this, Martin,” Tim says as he rushes over to the two of them, attempting to extract Jon from his arms. It takes a few seconds to pull him away from Martin’s sweater and Jon’s not pleased about it. “I didn’t think he would be like this so early, and I didn’t think you’d still be here-”
“What do you mean, ‘like this’?” He asks, his voice embarrassingly high. He watches as Tim opens his coat and Jon immediately latches on to his side, letting Tim cuddle him close to his chest. “What the hell is going on?”
“Not so loud,” Tim chastises. “You’ll scare him!”
“He bit me, Tim!”
“In his defense, he only does that with people he really likes,” Tim smirks and Jon peaks out from behind the coat, smiling that sweet little grin. “But yeah, he uh- when he gets really stressed he gets like this? Regresses, you know. He’s done it for a while now, me and Sasha try to take care of him, but-”
“Hang on, is that why you’re always lurking outside his office and whispering?” Martin asks as he finally fits the pieces together. “You weren’t uh, talking about me?”
“Talking about you? No!” Jon’s now gnawing on Tim’s coat zipper, but he doesn’t pay him any mind. “Jon’s really private, he gets embarrassed about these sorts of things. Although there’s nothing to be embarrassed about! ” Tim’s voice turns into a coo as he buries his head in Jon’s unruly black curls, giving him a little kiss. “Just, please don’t tease him about this-”
“I would never,” Martin says, shaking his head vehemently. He can’t imagine upsetting Jon when he’s at his most vulnerable. He aches to take him in his arms again but he looks so cozy and content wrapped in Tim’s coat. “H-He doesn’t have to hide this anymore around me, i-if he feels comfortable enough with that?”
“Judging by tonight, I think he’s plenty comfortable with you. At least, when he’s in headspace. We can talk about this once he’s feeling big again.” His voice turns almost sickeningly affectionate as he picks Jon up and balances him on his hip like he weighs no more than an actual child (which might, in fact, be true). “But I think it’s time for somebody to get in bed.” Jon lets out a little whine but doesn’t struggle, instead leaning into Tim’s shoulder even more. “That’s my good boy. Do you want a ride, Martin? It’s getting pretty late.”
“That’s alright,” Martin says, waving his hand. “You should probably get the little one home.” Little one. The words feel natural coming out of his mouth. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
“‘Course,” Tim says as he puts a hand to the back of Jon’s head, urging him into the crook of his neck. Jon complies and lets out a tiny yawn, already halfway to dreamland. “Thank you for being cool about all of this. I know it’s...a lot.”
“It’s no trouble,” Martin slings his bag over his shoulder and as he speaks the words he knows them to be true. “Just glad he seems to like me sometimes.”
“He’ll warm up,” Tim assures as he gives Martin one last wave. “Say goodnight, baby.”
“G’night,” Jon slurs, blinking sleepily at Martin. Once again he’s struck with how utterly cute Jon manages to be, even if he is a bit of a brat. Martin’s shoulder still throbs but it's a pleasant sort of ache, like a bite you’d get from playing with a kitten.
Maybe one day he could take care of Jon, too.