Chapter Text

It was a normal day at The Spiral. The morning regulars had come and gone, leaving the little shop to it's quiet peace. Martin dusted off his hands nearly in sync with Tim.

"You're cleaning the coffee machine tomorrow." Tim grumbled good naturedly.

"You and I both know that if I so much as stray from putting grounds in it and hitting start, it will be down and out for the week." Martin replied. 

"Why must you be such a menace to the poor machine?" Tim asked.

"It can tell I'm a tea lover at my core." Martin said sagely. 

Tim snorted, "Batting for the other team then?"

"From the coffee machine? Absolutely." Martin replied. 

The door opened, it's bell alerting them to a customer. A glance at the clock showed it was time to greet Sasha. Within seconds, Tim was leaned on the counter, smiling in a way Tim thought suave.

"Good afternoon, gorgeous, come here often?" Tim asked, complete with brow waggles.

Sasha rolled her eyes, albeit fondly, "Oh, just about every day. There's this really cute baker who works here. You haven't seen him have you? Oh! There you are, Martin!"

"Hi Sasha." Martin chuckled. His eyes slid to the figure trailing behind her. The man had dark, curly hair, a myriad of scars, a deep, thoughtful look and a wiry frame that looked like he hadn't eaten well in ages.

"Oh, right." Sasha took a side step, "This is my colleague, Jonathan Sims."

"Nice to meet you, Jonny, I'm Tim and this here's Martin." Tim introduced with his best charming smile.

Mr. Sims frowned at him, "It's Jon . But nice to meet you, I suppose."

"Now that introductions are out of the way!" Sasha grinned at the bakers, "How fresh is your naan?"

"Just a minute out." Tim replied.

"And we've got some garlic today." Martin added.

Sasha put a hand over her heart, "Just for me? Martin! You shouldn't have!"

"Ah, but y'see, I actually didn't. Tim insisted he make it himself." Martin laughed.

"Oh, did he?" Sasha turned her attention back to Tim.

Martin's eyes fell back on Mr. Sims, who was looking around with a mixture of annoyance and discomfort. The baker smiled politely, "Might I ask your favorite baked good, Mr. Sims?"

"Uh, Jon, please. And, to be honest, I'm not sure?" Jon frowned, first at Martin and then at their cases, "There seems to be quite a lot of options in that particular food category."

"True. Hm." Martin tapped his chin thoughtfully, "Alright, how about this? What is more appealing in this moment? Sweet, savory or salty?"

There was a pause, "Sweet."

"Okay," Martin smiled, "filled, iced or topped?"

"Iced." Jon answered. He was holding Martin's gaze with his own at this point, seeming to grow more confident in what he wanted.

"Baked or fried?" Martin asked.

"Baked." Jon paused again, canting his head, "Do you have cinnamon rolls?"

"We do." Martin was grinning now, "Is that what you'd like?"

"Yes please." Jon nodded.

"Do you want to choose which one from the case or let it be random?" Martin asked, sliding a fresh set of gloves on.

Jon paused to think about that. Martin was a little mesmerized by how Jon's features both scrunched and smoothed in different ways as Jon processed the question. He would be lying to say he didn't find the other man attractive, though he wasn't really sure if he could pinpoint why either.

Jon moved, just slightly, and opened his eyes, answer on his tongue, "I would like to choose, if you don't mind."

"Of course not." Martin smiled, guiding him to the section of the case that held the desired pastry.

Jon crouched to inspect them, elbows on his knees and a hand curled into a thinking gesture resting over his chin and mouth. As Jon decided, Martin set up a box to hold whatever the other picked.

"Jon, it's just a pastry, not an elaborately metaphoric poem written in pink chicken scratch." Sasha sighed.

"You dragged me here and evidently purchase naan here almost daily. Pardon me if I take time deciding on something from a business I've never visited before." Jon grumbled dryly, not looking up.

"Fine. Let me know when you're sorted." Sasha said.

"You could just leave if you're done." Jon pointed out.

"Nope. Good try but I did promise to pay for your share." She rolled her eyes.

"Very well." Jon breathed and pointed to one of the rolls, "May I have that one, Martin?"

"Absolutely." Martin boxed it easily, "Anything else we can get you two?"

"Well, I think Tim's starting on my coffee." Sasha raised a brow at the still crouched Jon, "Did you want anything to drink?"

Jon looked between Sasha and Martin before settling on Martin, "What would you recommend?"

"You don't want my recommendation?" Sasha asked, hand out to her colleague.

"Of what? Black coffee with five espresso shots?" Jon snorted, standing with the offered assistance, "No thank you. Last time I tried that, I couldn't get the bitter taste out of my mouth for two whole days."

"Fair." Sasha chuckled.

Two sets of eyes returned to Martin, who cleared his throat, "Well, if you want something with a similar flavor, we have vanilla chai. Which we can make iced."

"That actually sounds delicious." Jon agreed, "May I have both warm though?"

"Absolutely." Martin smiled and slid the pastry toward the register, which Tim had just returned to, "Tim?"

"Cinnamon roll and a vanilla chai, both hot. Got it, boss." Tim winked.

"I'll get started on the chai then." Martin took his leave to do just that.

It took several minutes, but soon enough, everything was nice and ready to be taken to their customers. Together, he and Tim brought it to the table Sasha and Jon were sat at.

"Did you need anything else? Silverware? Napkins?" Martin asked.

"Might I have some napkins?" Jon asked.

"Of course. I'll bring them right over." Martin went and fetched a good amount of napkins. He returned to the table, offering them, "Here you are."

"Thank you." Jon said, taking them and placing them under the silverware he evidently carried with him.

"Of course. Let us know if you need anything else." Martin smiled and took his leave.

Tim was leaning on the counter as Martin returned. Tim whispered, "So, do you think they're, y'know, together?"

Martin raised a brow but matched his co-workers volume, "I don't think it's rather any of my business."

"Oh come off it, Martin, I saw how you looked at him." Tim scoffed.

"I can both admire someone's attractiveness and be aware that their relationship status is none of my business, Tim." Martin argued.

Tim threw his hands into the air with a groan, "You're insufferable!"

"Good." Martin huffed, turning back to his afternoon tasks.

***

"Jon, I swear." Sasha grumbled as she entered the bakery.

"I don't see why you're so annoyed by this. You really should expect it by now." Jon argued.

"Yeah, yeah, Archivist." Sasha sighed. She looked up and around, "Where's Tim?"

"He ran out of the store ten minutes ago saying that he needed to get some flour." Martin shrugged. 

"Hmm, okay." Sasha nodded. She held out her phone, "I'll wait til Jon is done to get my order."

"Alright..." Martin tentatively took the phone. He looked at the screen to see that she and Jon had been video calling. He smiled at Jon's wary face, "Good afternoon, Jon."

"Good afternoon, Martin." Jon's expression softened ever so slightly.

"Do you know what you'd like today?" Martin asked easily.

Jon shook his head with a sigh, "I was hoping you could help with that again."

"I'd be happy to, Jon." Martin smiled wider, "Savory, sweet or salty?"

Jon hummed in thought for a moment, "Savory, I think."

"Alright, baked or fried?" Martin asked.

"Baked, please." Jon said. 

"Alright, well, we have some savory meat pies, some various garlic breads and a few pot pies." Martin said.

Jon canted his head, "I haven't had a meat pie in a moment. What flavors do you have?"

Martin listed them with practiced ease. He noticed a bit of a mischievous look grow in Jon's eye but waited for his reply.

"You don't happen to have any special pies, do you Mrs. Lovett?" Jon asked.

Martin snorted, putting on his best falsetto, "Not today, Mr. Todd."

Jon laughed and it was glorious. Martin could feel himself grinning. Jon nodded, "Very well then, I guess I'll have to settle on the lamb and carrot."

"Of course." Martin changed the camera for him, showing off the pies in the case, "Which one would you like?"

"Uh, that one there with the rosemary on top." Jon replied.

"Can do." Martin boxed it up, "Anything more, Jon?"

"No, I think you have me quite sorted." Jon replied. 

Martin heard the back door open and spun to see Tim skid halfway across the kitchen, a bouquet in hand. Martin raised a brow as Tim dusted himself off, "Are you quite alright, Tim?"

"Mm, peachy, Martin. Is-" Tim cut himself off, seeing Jon's face on the phone, "Afternoon Jon."

"Afternoon Tim?" Jon replied. 

Tim shot his gaze back at Martin meaningfully, "So then…"

"Sasha's here, yes." Martin replied.

"Hm?" Sasha asked, removing herself from her book.

"Just telling Tim we had customers." Martin smiled at her.

Tim tried to walk suavely up to the counter, a smoulder on his lips, flowers offered to her, "A good afternoon to you, Sasha."

"Oh, good afternoon, Tim." Sasha blinked, first at him and then the bouquet, "I think Martin misunderstood when you said you were getting flowers."

Tim let out a nervous laugh, "Probably. Um, w-would you like the flowers?"

"Uhhhh," Sasha said eloquently. She bit her lip then offered an awkward smile, "Tim, this is a very nice gesture."

"O-oh." Tim deflated. Before anyone could say anything, he plastered on a smile and laughed, "Fair enough. I'll just go put them in some water and then somewhere on the counter. No big deal."

"I-" Sasha began but Tim dashed off into the kitchen. She stared after him, a conflicted expression on her face.

"Well," Jon cleared his throat, "I quite think I should pay for Sasha's naan as well. If she still wants it."

"Right, of course." Martin said, placing Jon's box by the register. He glanced worriedly at Sasha, "Um, Sasha? Do you still want to order anything?"

She looked at him but not completely, "Um, just naan today, thanks."

Martin quickly got Sasha's naan boxed and rung up both orders as one at Jon's request. 

"Sasha?" Jon asked.

"Mm?" Sasha replied. 

"Can you give Martin my card?" He asked, tone patient and kind.

"R-right. Here." She handed Martin the card and waited as the transaction took place.

"Alright, the one on the bottom is Jon's." Martin said, handing the still dazed Sasha the food.

"Thank you." Sasha took it, then the card and phone, "See you later, then, Martin."

"See you later, Sasha. Jon." Martin nodded. 

He watched as she drifted out of the store. He shook his head and sighed. He needed to go check on Tim.

"No need to worry after me, Martin." Tim announced, overly cheerfully as he exited the kitchen with a vase of flowers.

"Tim," Martin began.

"Ah, see, even if there was a need to worry, you and I both know I wouldn't let you. Especially not at work." Tim scolded. He placed the flowers on the counter and took a deep breath, "Besides, nothing like a rejection to quell a crush."

"Mm." Martin hummed, uncertain how to respond. 

"But don't worry, it won't keep me from rooting for you and Jon!" Tim exclaimed, punching a fist into the air.

Martin stammered before managing, "Th-there's nothing to root for, Tim!"

"Keep telling yourself that, Martin." Tim patted his shoulder and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Martin shook his head and turned back to his tasks. 

***

Afternoon came and went the next day without Sasha. Which wasn't entirely unusual but after yesterday, it made Martin nervous. He'd almost made himself ignore the feeling when the door opened, half an hour before close.

Martin turned to greet the customer only to be stunned by the sight before him. Jon stood before him in deep purple trousers, a crisp white button up, charcoal grey vest and black suit jacket. He also wore a stylish hat, slightly askew on his head, and held a beautifully carved, cherry wood cane.

"Good evening, Martin." Jon greeted warmly.

"I- Um, good evening, Jon." Martin replied, feeling his cheeks warm. He cleared his throat, "Special occasion tonight?"

"Only in as much as you dare to deem it so." Jon shrugged. As Martin blinked, Jon's gaze shifted to the vase on the counter. Jon sighed, "Those poor flowers. Wilting already."

"Not a green thumb between us, I'm afraid." Martin nodded.

"I'll have to do something about that, then. But first," Jon muttered. He squared his shoulders best he could and pulled out his phone, offering it to Martin, "might I have your phone number?"

Martin nearly choked on his own spit, "I'm sorry?"

"It's so I can call ahead for orders, if you'll allow it." Jon was purposely looking away from Martin now, fiddling with his cane, "It would be a good deal easier on me if I didn't have to be standing in the shop to decide what to purchase."

"Oh." Martin breathed and then offered his hand to take the phone, "Of course we can do that, Jon."

"Thank you, Martin." Jon said softly, passing over his phone.

Martin took note that it was already open to a new contact, his first name typed in the "who" box. He typed in his number and his last name, clicked "save" and passed it back. Martin watched as Jon swiftly typed one-handed before sliding his phone back into his pocket.

Martin's phone chimed and he pulled it out to see that he had a message from an unknown number, presumably Jon. He opened it and it read:

"Hello, Martin, this is Jonathan Sims."

Martin sent back a quick, "Hello, Jon."

"Do you mind if I give the flowers some plant food?" Jon asked.

Martin looked up and smiled, "Not at all. But you carry plant food on you?"

"I do." Jon said, pulling a tiny container from a pocket, "I have plants in my office, so I tend to have some plant food on me just in case."

"Fair enough." Martin chuckled.

Martin watched as Jon added some plant food to the vase and spoke softly to the flowers. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his lips.

Oh. Oh no. Martin was in trouble. 

Chapter Text

It really had started out innocently and completely above the board. Jon would occasionally text Martin asking if he could video call for an order, which was happily agreed upon. But then… well, Martin had asked about different types of plant food and it was like he'd opened a floodgate. Jon had sent him a long message on the pros and cons of certain ones and which were best for what plants and it rather spiraled from there.

Martin was wiping down the counter, frowning sadly at the spot the bouquet had spent its last days in. The greenery had really brightened their little shop. He jumped when his phone dinged with a text.

"Does the shop have fresh herbs or do you use store bought?" Jon had sent.

Martin chuckled softly as he wrote, "We use store bought, essentially. Never really thought about having in-home herbs given Tim and my history with plants."

"I see." Jon replied. 

"Texting your beau?" Tim asked teasingly.

"Jon and I aren't dating, Tim." Martin rolled his eyes.

"Yet." Tim declared with a grin. He leaned on the counter, "So?"

"So what?" Martin frowned.

"So what did he say? Goodness, Martin!" Tim scoffed.

"He just asked if we grew the herbs we use?" Martin blinked.

"He really must like plants, huh?" Tim sighed.

Martin chuckled, "He certainly seems to."

Tim thought for a moment before smirking, "How much do you want to bet he'll bring you a plant?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Besides, shouldn't you worry about mending things with Sasha?" Martin raised his brow.

"It's not like I can do anything more than wait here." Tim huffed, "I don't have her number and even if I did, I doubt she'd want to hear from me. So I'll be here, waiting and hoping for at least an acquaintanceship and rooting for you and Jon."

"That's a very mature mindset." Martin smiled.

"Oh come off it, you're not that much older than me." Tim pushed him lightly, "I don't need you acting like a proud mama hen."

Martin gasped, feigning offense as he placed a hand on his chest, "But that's one of the labels I identify as, Tim!"

"Martin-" Tim began.

"I'm just such a proud mama hen of my sweet little Tim." Martin pulled his friend into a hug, patting his head with a smirk.

"I hate you so much." Tim grumbled, pushing him off, fighting a chuckle.

Martin grinned and ruffled Tim's hair, getting a horrified shout from him. Martin laughed, dancing away.

"Come back here and get a noogie!" Tim called, following him.

The oven and door bell went off in sync as Martin slipped to the other side of the counter. Tim waved a threatening finger at Martin as he retreated into the kitchen.

Martin chuckled, turning to the customer, "Hello!"

"Hello Martin." Jon said, eyes warm and curious with a raised brow, "Did I interrupt something?"

"Only if you count Tim and I acting like children something." Martin shrugged easily.

"Ah, I see." Jon nodded thoughtfully.

"Indeed. Anyway, how are you?" Martin asked.

"I'm doing well." Jon smiled. He shifted his weight, "And how are you?"

"I'm doing great." Martin grinned.

"I'm glad to hear it." Jon hummed warmly. He swayed a bit, "So, might I inquire if you would be opposed to being gifted some herbs?"

"I wouldn't, though I might need to request assistance in assuring its survival?" Martin raised his brows mischievously.

"Oh, well," Jon chuckled, pulling a plant from behind his back, "I'm sure that can be arranged."

"Wow, that's so pretty." Martin gasped, gently touching one of the leaves. He glanced at Jon, "Thyme, right?"

"Well spotted." Jon replied with a nod.

"Do they have a name?" Martin asked softly.

"Not unless you want to give them one." Jon shrugged.

"Hmmm." Martin stroked his chin thoughtfully. An idea struck him, "We'll call them 'Sprinkles'."

Jon's brows rose into his hairline, incredulity but amusement tinting his tone, "Sprinkles?"

"Well, we are a bakery, Jon." Martin explained, gently taking the plant from him.

"I suppose you are, aren't you?" Jon chuckled.

Martin placed Sprinkles on the counter where they would get enough sunlight, "Certainly are."

"I've also got a watering and feeding schedule and some plant food for… Sprinkles." Jon said.

"Well, you certainly come prepared." Martin smiled, fingers brushing Jon's as he took the offered supplies.

"Being prepared is rather important." Jon said, looking away.

"No arguments here." Martin hummed and rounded the counter to put away the plant food and place the calendar. Martin turned back to him, "And is there anything I can help you with today, Professor?"

"Well, I was hoping you could help me find something sweet?" Jon raised a brow.

"Of course. Have anything in particular in mind?" Martin asked.

Jon bit down on his bottom lip before saying, "I was actually hoping for a cinnamon roll."

"Martin? Have you seen the sourdough starter?" Tim asked, making Martin jump.

"Ah! Tim! Hi! Yes!" Martin managed. His heart was beating hard like he'd been caught doing something he wasn't meant to be. Despite the flush consuming his face, he cleared his throat, "It, uh, it should be on the table next to the office."

"Ah, wonderful!" Tim smiled. His gaze landed on Jon, then the plant and back again, "Hey there, Jon! I see you brought us a plant!"

"I… Yes, hello, Tim." Jon nodded, "I thought some fresh herbs might do the shop some good."

"Well thanks for that, buddy!" Tim grinned. He paused, pulled out his phone and looked at it with surprise, "Looks like Helen wants you to call her, Martin."

"Wh- I- What?" Martin blinked.

Tim showed him the message, "Just what I said. Boss wants to talk to you. I can handle the order from here."

"I… Alright. Um, thank you again for the thyme, Jon." Martin managed.

"Right. Yes. Of course." Jon replied with a nod.

Without knowing what else to say, Martin offered a hand raise and shuffled off to call Helen.

***

Martin hummed softly as he tended the front end of the bakery. The repetition of menial tasks could be frustrating at times but Martin really loved keeping the shop nice and neat. Well, the part that customers saw, anyway. His lips lifted in a wry smile as he thought about the clutter of paperwork in the office.

The bell went off just as he finished putting away his cleaning supplies. He turned a bright smile and greeting on the customer. Sasha offered her own nervous one.

"Sasha! It's so nice to see you." Martin grinned.

"Oh, uh, are you not… upset with me?" Sasha frowned.

"For what?" Martin canted his head.

"Y'know, for, um, for rejecting Tim? However accidentally bluntly?" She adjusted her glasses anxiously. 

"I mean, I was sad that he was sad, but you don't owe anyone a relationship or to accept their advances. No one does. So, no, I'm not upset with you." He said softly.

Sasha's shoulders sagged in relief and she let out a sigh, "Thank you. Not a lot of people think that way, unfortunately."

"Sasha," Martin's voice tightened and his eyes narrowed, "has someone been bothering you because you rejected them?"

"Oh! Oh, no!" She made a surprised noise, "Not recently, anyway. I'm okay."

"Alright, well… let me know if anyone does and I'll… give them a talking to, yeah?" He smiled.

"Mm, maybe. Don't exactly want my favorite baker going to jail for me." Sasha chuckled. 

"Fair enough." Martin hummed, "So, how can I help you today? Got an order or did you want to talk?"

"I'm actually doing errands for Jon today, his scoliosis is acting bad, y'know? So I help out when needed." She shrugged.

Several things connected for Martin then. Little things that hadn't meant much but that he'd noticed anyway. They now made for a contextual story that maybe he should've realized without being told.

"Oh. Oh no, he hasn't told you yet, has he?" Sasha muttered, "Dammit."

"I… he hadn't, but it doesn't change much, if I'm honest." Martin said. 

"Good. Shitty that I told you but, yeah." She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head, "I'm sorry. I've been kinda discombobulated recently."

"Well, I think you should probably apologize to Jon, but I'm hoping it won't be too big a deal?" He frowned.

"Yeah, but being outed in any form kinda sucks." She argued.

"I can definitely agree to that." Martin sighed.

There was a quiet, thick moment between them. It was uncomfortably long and he couldn't help but wonder if either of them would be strong enough to cut through it.

"Right… right. Okay. Yes. Jon's order." Sasha breathed.

"Alright. What's on it today?" Martin asked, slipping on gloves.

"Um, he wants a lamb and carrot pie, a beef and potato pie and, uh, three cinnamon rolls." She read from her phone.

"Three cinnamon rolls?" He blinked. Jon always only ordered one of whatever he desired, so this was a bit new. Not that Martin minded or anything.

"Yup, three cinnamon rolls." Sasha shrugged.

"Alright, let me get all that boxed up." Martin said and went to work. It didn't take long and he was fairly certain he understood Jon's icing to roll ratio by this point. He rung them up and looked at Sasha, "Anything I can get you, Sasha?"

"Oh, um, no, I'm okay." Sasha said. 

"Okay…" He replied, taking the card and running it.

"Thank you." She murmured, retrieving the card and then the baked goods, "I'll see you later?"

"Okay, I'll see you later. Be safe." Martin said. 

"I will." Sasha flashed a small smile and took her leave.

***

Thanks to Jon's handwritten watering calendar and occasional off-hand tips, Sprinkles the Thyme plant flourished under Martin and Tim's care. And a lot of regulars had taken notice. Most of them thought Sprinkles was a wonderful addition to the bakery.

Martin sung softly as he finished kneading a loaf of herb and cheese bread when Tim popped his head into the kitchen. Martin raised a brow as he put the bread in it's baking tin.

"Jon's here." Tim announced.

"Let me add the finishing touches and I'll be right out." Martin replied. He frowned when he saw Tim smirk, "What?"

"I mean, I could probably handle it." Tim shrugged.

"Uh-huh." Martin said, unimpressed as he sorted the loaf and turned to the sink.

"Don't you 'uh-huh' me! I just thought that you lovebirds would like some more time together." Tim huffed, crossing his arms, "Beside, I was right about him bringing you a plant."

"No one said you weren't, Tim." Martin chuckled, "But you do know that I don't need your help in getting a relationship, right?"

Tim snorted, "Have you even been in one before?"

"First, that's none of your business." Martin glared, "And second, yes, I have, in fact."

Tim's eyes went wide, "Details!"

"Maybe after I talk to Jon. Maybe." Martin pushed past Tim.

"Oh, hello Martin." Jon smiled as Martin approached. 

"Hi Jon," He greeted warmly, "how are you today?"

"I'm doing quite well today." Jon replied, "How are you?"

"Excellent. As is Sprinkles. Your notes have been incredibly helpful." Martin said. 

"Just a bit of common sense and I'm sure a good deal of love." Jon shrugged.

"I do have a lot of love to give." Martin agreed easily enough.

"I… actually have no idea how to respond to that." Jon admitted.

Martin chuckled softly, "Who says you need to."

"The rules of conversing?" Jon frowned. 

"Perhaps." Martin hummed. 

The two of them stood, staring at one another for a long, silent moment. Jon scrunched his nose and they both burst into giggles. It took them several minutes to calm from their laughter.

"In all seriousness," Jon said through a chuckle, "I was wondering your opinion on musical theater."

Martin raised a brow, "I like musicals generally. I'm also confused, however, as to why you needed to ask that in person?"

"I… well," Jon took a deep breath, "I was hoping you might be willing to go out with me? On a date? To a musical?"

Martin was suddenly uncertain if he was breathing or not. He managed to stammer a moment before his brain caught up, "A date! With you! Yes, I-I'd love to, Jon."

"Good. Thank you." A smile broke across Jon's lips and he swayed a bit, "Where should we meet? I mean, we could meet here or the theater or I could pick you up? Share a cab to the theater?"

"I think it'd be best if we met here? That way we don't get lost trying to find one another in whatever crowd will be at the theater." Martin said. 

"Fair enough." Jon agreed. 

"Um, what should I wear?" Martin worried his lip.

"Whatever you feel comfortable in." Jon shrugged. 

"And what are you going to wear, Jon?" Martin raised a brow. 

Jon had the decency to give him a bit of a caught-in-the-cookie-jar look, "To be fair, my waistcoats are comfortable because they help with my scoliosis."

"Fair, but sneaky." Martin grumbled.

"I'm sure whatever you decide on will be perfect." Jon chuckled.

Martin smirked at the challenge, "Don't worry, I'll come up with something."

Jon's brows rose with curiosity and a bit of surprise, "I look forward to it."

"You'll text me the details?" Martin asked. 

"Of course." Jon agreed. 

Chapter Text

Martin spent the week before his date with Jon being ecstatic and anxious all at once. He'd stop in the middle of a task just to smile to himself. Tim rolled his eyes at him more than once and pretty much relegated him to the kitchen if he so much as looked like he was going to start being sappy.

All too soon, the night of his date came. Martin allowed himself a bit of excited freaking out time before he got ready. Freshly showered and cologned, Martin started putting on his outfit.

First was his crisp white button up that tucked into his deep navy blue pants. Next was his nicest shoes, a set of brown loafers with trims of a deep gold. Then, his most intricate piece. His double breasted wesket. 

Or, in more common terms, his pirate vest. It was black with deep golden trims, gold eye-shaped buttons and a pattern of deep, misty blue embroidery. The lacing in the back was the same gold as the trim.

Martin ran a hand down it, enjoying the feel of the patterned fabric. It brought with it the fun memories of the summer he'd spent helping out at a pirate themed shop at a Ren Faire. It was something he'd bought purely because it made him happy and he's never regretted that decision. 

An alarm beeped and snapped Martin back into motion. He slipped on his navy blue jacket, checked his pockets for everything he needed and headed out.

***

Martin arrived just as Jon did. They stared at one another for a moment before Jon chuckled wryly, "And here I thought I was going to be early."

"That was my hope as well." Martin smiled. He took a good look at his date.

Jon was dressed in a snazzy suit. His jacket and pants were a pale, almost khaki green. His vest was a dark olive green that popped against his crisp white dress shirt. He was also carrying his cherry cane, a single piece of black metal settled on his right middle finger.

Martin grinned, "You look amazing, by the way."

"As do you. Incredible, in fact." Jon replied. 

"Thank you." Martin bounced a bit. He let out a breath and offered his arm, "Shall we?"

"We shall." Jon smiled and easily slipped his hand into the crook of Martin's elbow.

***

Martin found that he still couldn't get his head around the fact that he was actually on a date with Jon. Even with Jon at his side. Even when Jon gave the usher their tickets. Even as they sat together. 

"Martin?" Jon called, dragging him back to reality with a hand on his.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm here." Martin said. 

"Are you okay?" Jon asked.

Martin grinned, "Honestly? I'm over the moon."

"Well maybe I can keep you on the ground for the duration of the show?" Jon raised a brow.

"But isn't one of the songs called 'Defying Gravity', Jon?" Martin teased.

Jon snorted and squeezed Martin's hand, "Yes, but I'm not sure it's meant to be taken as a command."

"Fair enough." Martin chuckled, squeezing Jon's hand in turn.

They shared a smile and settled into their seats.

***

Jon shifted in his chair, drawing Martin's attention from the show. Jon's face was tight with pain as he adjusted how he was sitting. It was clear quickly that it wasn't working when Jon made a muffled whimper.

"Jon?" Martin asked softly. 

"I-I'm sorry, Martin. I need to go walk around for a bit." Jon said with a strained smile.

"You don't have to apologize. Do you, er, do you mind if I join you?" Martin bit his lip.

"Oh, um, I wouldn't mind, no." Jon blinked.

Together they quietly left the theater. Jon was definitely leaning more heavily on his cane as they walked. His face was tight with concentration and pain and it kind of broke Martin's heart.

Once they were out, Jon began to pace, rolling his shoulders and leaning in various ways to try to relieve some of the pain. Martin hovered nearby in case Jon needed him. Jon must've moved wrong because a little yelp of pain left him.

"Jon?" Martin worried. 

"J-just give me a few, I'll be o-okay." Jon replied. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was moving his left leg back and forth, softly muttering curses.

"I'm sorry you're in pain." Martin said softly.

That startled a laugh from Jon as he pressed his back flat against a wall, "Thank you."

Jon shifted and squirmed a bit more before he froze. A hiss of pain escaped him and he doubled over. Martin was by his side in an instant.

Jon managed to stand enough to bury his face into Martin's chest, his shoulders shaking. Martin's hands hovered near Jon's waist. Just in case.

A few moments passed before Jon's shoulders stilled. He didn't move from where he was leaning into Martin, so when he spoke, it was quite muffled, "I'm sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry for?" Martin inquired gently.

"That you aren't getting to watch the whole show and you have to deal with this." Jon murmured. 

"Jon, please, it would be far worse if I was still in there, ignorant of you being in pain." Martin said, "Especially if I could help in any way."

Jon made a noncommittal noise.

Martin tapped his hip lightly, mock whispering, "Besides, I am a bit of a pirate."

"You? A pirate?" Jon squinted at him skeptically. 

"Do you not see my fantastic double breasted wesket?" Martin asked, feigning offense.

"It is a very beautiful double breasted wesket, I'll give you that." Jon agreed, a smile playing on his lips.

"See? Pirate." Martin winked.

Jon snorted, shaking his head, "If you insist."

"Aye, I do, matey." Martin put on his best, if rusty, pirate voice.

"An' what's the treasure we're after, Cap'n?" Jon teased, pulling off a frankly fantastic pirate voice.

"The most priceless of treasures there can be for those who have romance in their souls." Martin said.

Jon's brows rose, "And what might that be?"

"Oh, y'know, true love." Martin shrugged.

"A priceless treasure indeed." Jon agreed.

"I'm hoping I'm on the right path." Martin admitted.

Jon looked at him softly for a long moment before murmuring, "Me too."

They stood there in a quiet little bubble, content for the moment to just exist in each other's space.

"Alright," Jon whispered as to not break the moment, "I think I'm ready to go back inside."

"If you're sure?" Martin raised a brow. 

Jon smiled, "I am, thank you."

"Of course." Martin smiled back.

***

Jon and Martin made their way through the boisterous crowd and out of the theater in a bubble of companionable silence. They had agreed, however nonverbally, that missing whatever after show stuff was preferable to being stuck in traffic.

Thus, arm in arm, they made their way back to the bakery. The silence lingered amongst them for awhile.

Jon turned a curious gaze onto Martin, "So, did you enjoy the show?"

"I did." Martin nodded easily.

"I'm glad." Jon smiled.

"Did you?" Martin inquired.

"Very much so. Though," Jon's gaze fell to the sidewalk, "I rather enjoyed the presence of my company more."

Martin couldn't help keep down his blush or smile, "Are you telling me you thought it was a good date?"

"I might be." Jon murmured. 

"Well, in that hypothetical, I might just agree with you." Martin hummed, watching Jon in his periphery.

Jon stopped, looking up at Martin with a mix of hope and worry, "You would?"

"I would. I might even hypothetically say it could warrant a second one." Martin smiled.

A shy grin blossomed across Jon's face, "I would hypothetically like that."

"Good to know." Martin squeezed Jon's hand.

They stood together with just the noises of the night around them for a moment. Relishing in just existing in this time with one another. 

"Thank you for the wonderful date, Jon." Martin whispered, uncertain if he wanted to break the silence.

"Thank you for the wonderful company, Martin." Jon whispered in kind, pressing a feather soft kiss to Martin's hand. He seemed reluctant to release the appendage but he did and took a step back, "Good night, Martin."

"Good night, Jon." Martin said, feeling his cheeks warm.

Chapter Text

Martin might have been a tad distracted when he came into work the next day. But really, who could blame him if he sighed happily or gazed at Sprinkles for a time? Jon had been utterly lovely and it'd been quite some time since Martin had had a good date.

Tim, of course, made comments here and there but Martin was far too happy to care. Eventually Tim had to take over the front end. Martin could admit it was a little embarrassing but at least baking didn't need him to hold a conversation.

The next few days passed with Martin in a bit of a daze. But then he realized he hadn't seen Jon in nearly a week and he came crashing back to reality.

It was weird that he hadn't heard from him yet, right? But Jon had said he'd be happy to go on another date, hadn't he? Had he changed his mind? Had the date actually been awful for Jon?

"Martin?" Tim asked.

Martin blinked into the present, realizing he couldn't breathe, "T-Tim."

Tim gently took his shoulders, "Hey, c'mon, breathe with me, okay? Alright, let's breathe in."

Martin breathed in shakily with Tim. It took several goes before Martin's breath evened out and he felt the adrenaline crash hit.

"Feeling better?" Tim asked gently.

Martin nodded, "Y-yeah, thanks."

"Of course, man." Tim smiled softly, "Want a hug?"

"Yes please." Martin said.

"C'mere." Tim pulled Martin into a hug. Martin hugged him back, taking comfort in his friend.

"Uh, Martin? Tim? You in here?" A familiar voice called from the counter.

They made their way up to see a confused Sasha leaning on the counter. She perked up when she saw them, "You guys okay?"

"Yeah, we're okay." Martin nodded.

" Actually, I was wondering why I haven't seen Jon all week." Tim crossed his arms.

"Oh, did he not-? Of course he didn't, he's bloody Jon." Sasha sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Right, well, Jon's been in hospital. Got a couple broken bones. Again."

"Oh my god! Is he okay?!" Martin asked.

"He's fine, aside from his pride." Sasha huffed, hands on her hips, "I'm gonna kill him."

"Uh, please don't?" Martin frowned.

"Fine, but only because you asked." Sasha scowled. She shook her head and turned to Tim, "Tim?"

"Uh, yes, Sasha?" Tim blinked.

"I'm sorry for rejecting you like I did." Sasha said.

"Oh, no, it's fine." Tim offered her a smile, "You certainly don't owe me an apology. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable."

"O-oh, thank you. You didn't really make me uncomfortable, I was just… surprised." Sasha bit her lip shyly.

"Yeah, I'm sorry for springing that on you." Tim rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"It's okay. Um," Sasha took a steadying breath, "can we go back to our bantering friendship?"

Tim's face lit up with hope, "I would love to."

"Cool. That's… yeah." Sasha laughed, "Maybe the four of us can get drinks some weekend?"

"Oh. Yeah, that'd be cool. I'd be down for that." Tim agreed easily.

"Are you counting Jon and I in that four?" Martin asked.

"Of course." Sasha nodded.

"Well, then I'd love to." Martin smiled.

"I should get going. Got a Jon to nag." Sasha grinned, "Bye you guys!"

"Bye Sasha." They chorused.

***

The shop was a short while til close when the bell chimed. Martin looked up from his cleaning to find Jon rolling in. His pulse kicked up speed.

Jon was in a t-shirt and jean shorts, his left leg in a cast and his hair in a low pony. The chair he was using looked more permanent than the shitty folding ones.

Jon met his eye and offered a nervous smile, "Good evening, Martin."

"Hi Jon, how're you?" Martin managed to ask.

"Uh, well, broken leg, as you know, but otherwise okay. I, ah, I wanted to apologize for not telling you. I didn't mean to worry you, if you worried, that is." Jon said.

"I'm just glad you're okay. Is there anything I can do to help?" Martin asked.

"Oh, ah, nothing for the moment. Actually, I," Jon let out a nervous laugh and looked down at his hands, twisting the one ring he wore, "I need to tell you something."

Martin was momentarily distracted by the sight of something on Jon's wrist. Was that… did Jon have a tattoo? Martin pinched himself. Now was not the time, Jon might be breaking up with him.

"Um, okay." Martin nodded. 

"I'm asexual." Jon breathed.

Martin blinked, processing the information, "Oh, okay."

"A-and sex repulsed. The, ah, the idea of having sex makes me nauseous, honestly." Jon added, glancing worriedly up at him.

"That's good to know." Martin said after a moment and then gave a relieved smile, "Then we can work out boundaries. I was a little worried you were going to break up with me. Not that we're technically together yet. I mean, unless this was your way of trying to break up with me?"

"Oh! Oh, no! I just, um, I know that it's a deal breaker for some people and I wanted to let you know before we… continued our relationship?" Jon explained.

"I mean, I'm glad you told me, it allows me a better understanding of you and your boundaries." Martin said, "But it's by no means a deal breaker. I would love to keep seeing you, Jon."

"O-oh. Yeah?" Jon smiled hopefully.

"As long as you want to keep dating me?" Martin laughed, a nervous energy in his veins.

"I do! I, ah, our first date was very good and I would enjoy continuing to develop this relationship with you." Jon said. 

"Then I'll text you the details when I've got our second one planned?" Martin smiled.

Jon grinned, "Yes, that sounds lovely, thank you."

***

A few days passed. Martin entered through the back door, hearing Tim already working on what needed to be made for the day.

"Morning Martin." Tim called.

"Morning Tim." Martin greeted, "Did we get any interesting post?"

"Oh, yeah, actually." Tim glanced over at him, "There's something addressed directly to you."

"That's weird." Martin frowned.

"It's on top." Tim waved before turning back to his work.

Martin moved to the desk, carefully plucking the envelope addressed to him in beautifully curled scrawl. Curiosity opened it and removed its contents, a neatly folded sheet of paper. Martin made a confused noise and unfolded the letter.

It read:

"Dearest Martin,

When we first met, you surprised me with your kindness and patience. And I must thank you for leading me through the obstacles of The Pastry Ways. And for your understanding during our first date.

I must admit, I never deigned to imagine I might court a self-proclaimed pirate. But the one I write to has shown an astronomical wit. And every smile you grace me with could light the night skies brighter than any star.

So, thank you for every smile and snarky comment and ounce of kindness and patience. I truly look forward to our next conversation. 

Sincerely yours,

Jonathan Sims"

Martin read the letter again and again, growing increasingly flustered. He managed a squeak before covering his burning face. 

Jon had written him a love letter. Jon had written him a love letter!  

What the hell had Martin gotten himself into?

"Wait, is that like, a handwritten letter?" Tim gasped, plucking it from Martin's fingers. Martin peeked through his fingers as Tim read. The other man's lips curled into a grin, "Oh my god, Martin, what did you do to Jon to inspire this?"

"I-I was just myself?" Martin squeaked again.

"Damn, the man is smitten." Tim laughed.

"No, shut up, he's not!" Martin groaned in embarrassment.

"He absolutely is." Tim clapped him on the shoulder, “Look at you go, you funky little cinnamon roll.”

Chapter Text

Martin groaned, pressing his face to his table. He needed to write a letter back. No, he wanted to write one back. But what were you supposed to put in a love letter this early on? How had Jon written his? 

What was kinda concerning was that they hadn't texted each other since he'd gotten the letter. Admittedly, it'd only been a day but still. Maybe they were both too nervous thanks to the letter? It definitely made Martin nervous, anyway. An idea struck and he swiftly grabbed his pencil.

"Dearest Jon,

Your letter surprised and your words stilled the breath in my throat. 

You weren't the only one surprised by the other's demeanor. I must admit that the quickness with which your grumpy attitude had dissolved startled me. I dare to hope it was due in part to me.

If my smiles are to rival the stars, yours put the Aurora Borealis to shame. Your wit is quick and sharp and brings amusement. And each time I look upon Sprinkles I am reminded of you. Silly as it is, the dear green one brings joy. I thank you again for gifting Sprinkles to us.

I look forward to seeing you soon, Jon.

Truly,

Martin Blackwood"

Martin set down his pencil, checking the letter over for mistakes. Once he was satisfied, he carefully folded it and slipped it into an envelope. After which, he addressed it, meticulously copying the return address. One carefully placed stamp of yellow tulips later and it was ready to be mailed.

Martin set it aside for tomorrow. He hoped Jon would appreciate his as much as he appreciated Jon's.

***

Martin glanced up at the bell with a smile, "Hey Daisy."

"Hi Martin." Daisy nodded a greeting.

"Your usual?" Martin's eyes caught on her arm. Or more accurately, her cast. He looked back up at her face, "Um, are you doing alright?"

"I'm fine. Just the usual luck for occupational hazard didn't hold up on this last gig." Daisy shrugged.

"Hey Daisy, have another building fall on you?" Tim asked as he breezed over to the coffee machine.

"I'm sorry, what ?" Martin blinked.

"Less on me and more under me." Daisy told Tim.

"Oof, that sucks. Danny's told me of a few bad tumbles, but nothing compared to the collapse." Tim shook his head.

"You're telling me." Daisy scoffed.

Martin felt like he'd missed something important, trying to wrangle a response from his shocked mind. The door opened, causing everyone to turn.

"Thank you, Basira." Jon said as he wheeled in.

"No problem." Basira said, following him in.

Daisy and Jon took notice of each other at the same time, pointing at one another and declaring, "You!"

"I didn't know you knew my girlfriend, Jon." Basira blinked.

"I am so lost." Martin whispered. 

"This is the guy who was in the collapse with me, Basira!" Daisy said. 

Martin was pretty sure his soul had just left his body. Not only his friend but his maybe-boyfriend had been in a building collapse?! The same one?!

"Small world." Basira said easily, tone turning teasing, "Thought the urbex community was bigger than that though."

"Wait, did you get that cast going to the Reeseworth Estate?" Jon asked.

Daisy eyed him suspiciously, "Yeah. You?"

"Yes, the floor gave out under me." Jon nodded.

"Can someone please tell me what you lot are talking about?" Martin asked, fairly certain his voice was higher than usual.

"Urban exploring. Aka breaking and entering into abandoned places." Tim answered.

"Wait," Martin put his hand up in an attempt to pause the conversation. He was a bit surprised when they actually quieted, "Are you telling me that you broke into an abandoned building, had that building collapse on you and proceeded to continue breaking into abandoned buildings?"

"One bad building doesn't mean they're all gonna collapse." Daisy scoffed at the same time Jon said, "It wasn't the same building, Martin."

"But why?" Martin asked, confusion furrowing his brow.

"Exploring is fun." Jon shrugged.

Martin sputtered worriedly and Basira stepped up, "To be fair, it's usually pretty safe and the only actual collapse they were in was when they foolishly went in solo."

"Yeah, Basira and I usually pair up but… I was too curious for my own good on the library." Daisy shrugged.

Martin's gaze turned to Jon and Jon gave him a sheepish smile.

"I, ah, generally went with my roommate at the time, but didn't that time." Jon chuckled nervously.

"Alright." Martin sighed, "Just… just be careful?"

"I'll do my best, I promise." Jon smiled at him so softly that Martin felt like he was gonna melt.

"Thank you." Martin smiled in return.

"Jon?" Basira raised her brows. 

Jon blinked up at her for a second before laughing awkwardly, "Oh, ah, I happen to be dating Martin."

"Oh." Basira blinked, "Congratulations, you two."

"Thank you." Martin blushed.

"Yes, thank you." Jon grumbled.

"That said, Daisy and I have an appointment to get to." Basira said. 

"Oh, right." Daisy blinked and moved to Martin, "I need to pay."

Martin quickly rung her up and Tim was there with her order.

"See you later." Daisy said, swiping her order up and following Basira out.

There was a moment where they all seemed to settle into the fact that there were less people in the shop. Tim, of course, was the one to break the silence.

"So, Jon, you here to buy something or just oogle my coworker?" Tim smirked.

Jon stuttered, "I-I was planning on getting something."

"Tim, be nice." Martin scolded.

"Hey, I think I should get teasing rights since I called it." Tim chuckled.

Martin scoffed, crossing his arms and putting on his best "parent" voice, "You also actively tried to meddle, so no teasing-Jon rights for you."

"Ugh, but Mum ." Tim pouted, though his eyes were alight with mischief.

"If you're just gonna argue with me, you can go back into the kitchen." Martin warned, trying to keep his smile from his face.

Jon chuckled, causing Tim and Martin to turn to him. Jon shrugged, "It's nice that you two are so close."

"Aww, Jon, don't feel left out, I can be your friend too." Tim cooed.

Martin fondly rolled his eyes and Jon laughed again, "I have a feeling that I'm not getting a choice in this?"

"Not at all." Tim grinned.

Chapter Text

"So, Jon," Martin pocketed his hands, "do you want me to pick you up?"

"Oh!" Jon blinked, a bashful smile crossing his lips, "As much as I, ah, appreciate the offer, you're a bit covered in flour at the moment."

Martin couldn't help but laugh in surprise. Apparently he hadn't been specific enough. Jon's brows furrowed and Martin managed through his laughter, "I meant Saturday. In a car."

"Oh, I see." Jon said stiffly then hid his face in his hands, "Yes, that seems acceptable."

"Have you thought about me literally picking you up, Jon?" Martin teased, leaning towards him.

"No, shut up, Martin." Jon grumbled behind his hands.

"Sounds like you have." Martin chuckled.

Jon glowered, ineffectively, between his fingers, "So what if it might have crossed my mind once or twice?"

"Well, then I'd say you just have to ask, Jon." Martin grinned, "Besides, it's not like you could weigh more than Tim."

"That's… fair." Jon relented, hands settling into his lap. He tilted his head, "Do you pick Tim up often?"

"Not often, per se, but enough that I know I can fairly easily." Martin shrugged.

"Hm." Jon hummed.

"Hey, Jon, are you actually going to get something or just gonna distract Martin all day?" Tim peeked his head around the corner.

"I was going to get a cinnamon roll!" Jon objected.

"You already have Martin, professor. Did you want actual food?" Tim teased.

Martin felt his whole face burn red and he turned to his coworker, "Tim!"

"Th-that's not what I meant!" Jon stammered.

"Mmhmm." Tim raised a brow.

"Oh my god, shut up!" Martin buried his face in his hands.

"I meant an actual cinnamon roll." Jon huffed.

"I'm offended on Martin's behalf!" Tim wrapped an arm around Martin's shoulders, "He is a real life human cinnamon roll!"

"Tim, I swear to the stars, I'm going to throw you into the dumpster." Martin threatened. 

Tim smirked, "You're not very intimidating when you're embarrassed like this."

Martin glared at his coworker and Tim laughed, hands up in surrender, "Okay, okay."

"I already regret agreeing to drinks." Jon sighed.

***

Martin quadruple checked that he had everything he needed. He and Jon were probably going to be out for a good portion of the day and it was important that he was prepared for that. Pockets had keys, wallet, knife, phone, a bit of string and a few buttons. Bag had napkins, a hat, a first aid kit, a rechargeable battery and sunscreen. Everything was set.

Now Martin just had to go get Jon.

***

Martin blinked as pulled up to the building. He double checked his gps and the text Jon had sent with his address. He really hadn't expected Jon to have a house .

"It's fine, Martin, it's not like he'll look down on you for having a flat." Martin told himself as he drove up the driveway. Putting the car into idle, he shot a message to Jon.

Not two minutes later, the front door opened and Jon rolled out, pausing only to lock up. Martin jumped from the car to get the passenger door.

"Good morning, Martin." Jon smiled warmly as he approached. 

"Good morning, Jon." Martin greeted in kind.

"Are we still not telling me the location of our date?" Jon raised his brows.

Martin kept an eye out as he transferred from the chair to the car, "Nope, I think keeping you in suspense is going to be more fun."

"Fine, keep your secrets." Jon huffed.

"Oh, I shall to a point." Martin assured, carefully securing the chair in the boot. Once done, he found his way back to the driver's seat. 

"Martin?" Jon asked.

"Mm?" Martin glanced up at him, doing up his seat belt.

"Might I have your hand for a moment?" Jon inquired as though requesting a radio station.

"Uh, sure?" Martin offered his hand with a quizzical smile.

Jon took it and pressed a feather soft kiss to the back of it, "Thank you. I'm actually quite excited to see what you have planned for us today."

Martin felt his face turn beet red, "Y-yeah, of course, Jon."

Jon smiled at him and the angle at which their hands were tangled, Martin could definitely see ink strewn across the skin of Jon's wrist. Martin canted his head, trying to decipher it. Jon raised his brows.

"Oh, ah, I'm just curious about your tattoo." Martin admitted. 

"Oh." Jon smiled and moved his arm so Martin could actually look at it.

Jon's tattoo was an outline of veins that dripped words like blood that read: "You were not born with venom in your veins."

"Wow, that's a pretty intense line." Martin breathed.

"Mm, it was said by a character I relate perhaps a bit too much to and it stuck with me." Jon hummed.

"I can see how it might." Martin nodded, "I like it."

Jon chuckled and offered his other wrist, "Would you like to appreciate my other wrist tattoo?"

"I would, actually." Martin huffed fondly.

Jon laughed but left his tattoo out for Martin's inspection. The words were drawn as though they'd been written, each word capitalized, in a scrawl that was near unreadable. But Martin could, in fact, make out that it read, "Bad times are tough, but not tougher than me."

"Is this another quote?" Martin asked, voice soft as though not to weigh too heavily upon Jon's ears.

"It is. It's from a podcast I have a bit of a complicated relationship with." Jon smiled sadly, "You know those shows you get into because the story captures you in the first episode and drags you along for a ride even though more and more problems present themselves as you continue to consume it?"

"I do." Martin nodded, letting out a grumbled, "Supernatural."

Jon snorted and shook his head, "Yes, quite like that, excepting that it hasn't lasted fifteen years. But I do love the characters and the core of the story that is there but in retrospect? It is quite obvious it was written by straight, cis, white men."

"Yikes." Martin grimaced, "I feel that though. Did you get the tattoo before or after that retrospect?"

"Before, but I don't regret it. It's a good line and a good message in and out of context." Jon replied.

"Well, I'm glad for that then." Martin pulled Jon's hand that was still wrapped in his and kissed Jon's knuckles gently, "And I don't mean to rush us, but we should probably get going before the day gets long."

"Yes, yes, alright." Jon chuckled and let his hand slip from Martin's with a wave, "Whenever you're ready, Martin."

"Oh, yes, because I'm the only one who sat and talked, hm?" Martin teased, getting back to the street.

"But of course. Didn't you know that I'm a reclusive, antisocial hermit?" Jon teased right back.

Martin laughed, "And I'm a mother hen."

"Indeed." Jon agreed.

***

The look of excitement on Jon's face as it dawned on him just where Martin had brought them was something Martin wished to crystallize in amber to keep. Jon was bouncing his hands excitedly on his thighs, leaning towards the window to see if he could spot anything. His gaze pinballed between windows as Martin parked.

"I'll be back in a jiff." Martin informed as he slipped from the driver's seat. It didn't take long to set up the chair, but by the time he got to Jon, the other man was practically vibrating out of his skin. Martin chuckled, "I know it's not as fancy as the theater, but I thought this might be fun."

"Oh, hush you." Jon laughed as he all but launched himself into the chair.

"I still have to pay for us, so don't wander too far, please." Martin called after Jon, locking up the car.

Jon was excitedly examining a few plants by the time Martin caught up. Martin passed him his ticket and a small, capped cup.

"Sugar water?" Jon asked, peering at the contents.

"Yup, in case you want to feed the butterflies." Martin smiled. 

"Oh, excellent!" Jon exclaimed.

Martin waved at the path, "Lead the way."

And Jon did just that, maneuvering around people and pausing to enjoy plant and butterfly life. Martin kept pace, content to listen as he explained the uniqueness of each. It made Martin really happy to see Jon speaking so animatedly, his hands moving wildly as he informed Martin of any particular species.

The only time Jon stilled was when they made it to the middle. He pulled up next to a bench and opened the container of sugar water. Martin settled onto the bench, taking in the beauty of the nature all around them. Fingers brushed against his and he turned to see Jon looking at him so gently. Martin offered his hand and a smile. Jon carefully intertwined their fingers and turned his attention back to the butterflies.

Many butterflies came and stopped to sip from Jon's container. A few landed on them for a few seconds. And really, there weren't a lot of moments that could match the magic of a butterfly deciding you were a safe place to rest. But maybe, just maybe, Martin would get a few with Jon.

Eventually, Jon closed the container and stretched. Martin followed suit and stood. They kept pace with one another, chatting idly but comfortably as they made their way through the second half of the butterfly garden sanctuary. By the time they reached the entrance, they were both a bit worn out.

"Do you want to stop for food?" Martin asked, opening Jon's door for him.

"That sounds lovely." Jon smiled.

"Want anything in particular?" Martin inquired. 

"Not that I can think of momentarily." Jon replied as he settled into the vehicle. 

Martin stowed the chair in the boot and settled into the driver's seat, "Alright, I think I have an idea."

Chapter Text

Martin couldn't help his nervous chuckle as they settled at the table the hostess had led them to. He'd forgotten just how nice Bella Notte was. He felt a bit bad coming in in jeans and a tee shirt.

"I feel we might be a bit under dressed." Jon teased. 

"Honestly? I didn't think about it when I suggested it. I'm sorry." Martin grimaced.

"It's fine, Martin. Just… my grandmother would be turning in her grave if she saw me right now." Jon said.

Martin canted his head, "Was she very strict?"

"Not strict, per se." Jon said, hands carefully in his lap, "But I was taught manners and proper posture and all that. I was often told to sit properly and it only let up when my scoliosis was discovered."

"I'm sorry." Martin said.

"It's okay. She just wanted me to succeed in life." Jon's smile was sad.

"Well, do you like your job?" Martin asked.

Jon frowned in confusion, "I love my job."

"Are you happy with your overall life?" Martin asked.

"I am." Jon nodded.

Martin gave him a smile, "Then I'd say you're living a successful life, wouldn't you?"

"You, my dearest Martin," Jon reached over to lay his hand on Martin's, "are truly something else."

"I think society as a whole would be better if we focused on letting people do what makes them happiest is all." Martin shrugged.

"Is that why you're at The Spiral?" Jon asked.

Martin couldn't help his grin, "Yeah, actually. I love it there. I love doing what I do. I love getting to interact with the customers every day. Making others smile."

"You're so kind and wonderful." Jon laughed softly.

"I do my best." Martin hummed.

Their waiter showed up, forcing them to focus on something else for a time.

***

Martin pulled up to Jon's house and parked. Neither moved though, relishing in each other's presence.

Jon took Martin's hand in both of his and rested his forehead on Martin's shoulder. Martin laid his head on Jon's, a warm contentment enveloping them.

"Martin?" Jon all but whispered.

"Hm?" Martin hummed.

"I, ah, I would very much like to keep dating you." Jon said. 

"Me too." Martin agreed.

Jon looked up at him, a brow raised, "You want to keep dating yourself?"

"Obviously." Martin chuckled and gave Jon a smirk, "Don't you know what a catch I am?"

"I do. That's why I want you all to myself." Jon confessed. He squared his shoulders, "I know we've only been dating a little while and that I don't know a lot about you yet but I want you to be my boyfriend and I yours."

"I feel the same. Spending time with you is the highlight of my day." Martin squeezed Jon's hand.

"So, boyfriends?" Jon asked hopefully. 

Martin nodded, gently putting their foreheads together with a soft smile, "Boyfriends."

***

“So, we’re going to Jon’s place for drinks?” Tim asked, checking Sprinkles’ soil.

“We are.” Martin nodded, sweeping in front of the display case.

“Have you been over there yet?” Tim raised a brow.

“I had to pick him up for our last date, remember?” Martin shrugged.

“Ah, that’s right.” Tim said.

There was a moment of quiet between them.

“So, has Sasha been in recently?” Martin asked.

Tim nodded, “She has. It’s been a little awkward trying to find my footing again but I’m glad I get to be her friend again.”

“I’m glad you guys are friends. You both are really important to me.” Martin said.

“Aww, you’re really important to me too, Martin.” Tim cooed.

Martin laughed with a fond eye roll. He was truly grateful that he and Tim had met and gotten along. It would’ve sucked if he had had to do this job with someone he couldn’t stand.

***

“Hey, Jon.” Martin greeted when his boyfriend picked up.

“Hello Martin.” Jon said warmly, “Are you here?”

“I am.” Martin nodded.

“Alright, so, there’s a spare key in the potted bamboo.” Jon said, “I would let you in myself but I’m dealing with a bit of a thing at the moment.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay.” Martin peered in the bamboo by the door and found the key. He unlocked the door and knocked before opening it, “Jon?”

“Just come on in, please lock the door behind you. I’ll be right out.” Jon said through the phone. And then, quieter, “Child, please, just stop glaring at me.”

Martin dutifully locked the door after he stepped through and looked around, ending the call. The front room was a living room and it appeared there was a kitchen to the left. The living room was furnished rather, well, old fashioned. He frowned as he looked at the furniture versus the movie posters and action figures. There seemed to be two warring styles in the room and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was like that throughout the rest of the house.

“Ah, sorry about that, dearest.” Jon said, as he entered the room.

“Oh, you’re fine, darling, I was just looking around.” Martin turned a smile on him.

“You can feel free to make yourself home, I can get us some tea while we wait if you like.” Jon offered. He looked a bit stressed.

Martin stepped over to Jon, took his boyfriend’s face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Jon laughed softly.

“Tonight will be fine, okay?” Martin said.

“But what if-?” Jon sighed, cutting himself off, “No, no, you’re right.”

“Well, if it does go wrong, then we’ll deal with it. They’re our friends and we’re a team, yeah?” Martin asked.

“We are.” Jon agreed and smiled, his shoulders relaxing as he put his hands on Martin’s wrists, “Thank you, dearest.”

“Of course, Jon.” Martin smiled back and pressed a kiss to his hair.

Jon hummed happily and they just stayed there, enjoying each other’s company.

Well, until Martin’s phone rang.

Chapter Text

Martin frowned but answered the phone, "Hello?"

"Hey Marto, so I'm going to be late." Tim said.

"Oh? Is everything okay?" Martin asked.

"Yeah, just Danny's coming in and I have to go get him from the station. So I'll probably be late by like an hour or so." Tim explained. 

"Alright, I'll tell Jon. Give Danny a hi from me." Martin said.

"Right-o. See you soon." Tim said. 

"Will do." Martin nodded and ended the call.

"What's going on?" Jon asked.

Martin brushed a strand of hair behind Jon's ear, "Tim's gonna be late cuz his brother came into town."

"Ah, okay." Jon nodded.

Martin opened his mouth to speak but the front door burst open.

"Where is my nephew?" Sasha demanded. 

"Not breaking down my front door." Jon glared.

"Yeah, yeah." Sasha waved him off as she closed and locked the door.

"Nephew?" Martin asked. 

"You know you need to close up the kitchen before you get him from his room." Jon said, then turned to Martin, "My ex got a cat when we were still living together, so I'm his dad. She's out of town so I have visitation for the week."

"Oh. That's cool." Martin smiled, "I look forward to meeting him then."

Jon raised an amused brow, "Would you be this calm if I had an actual child?"

"I'd certainly pretend to be. Might internally be screaming but I'd certainly be happy to meet them." Martin shrugged.

"Good to know." Jon chuckled.

"There's my precious nephew!" Sasha's voice drew their attention. She'd picked up what was apparently Jon's cat son.

"He has a name." Jon teased.

"Yes, and The Admiral is the perfect little kitten." Sasha cooed.

The Admiral bumped his head against Sasha's chin, purring happily in her arms.

"My son is a perfect little bastard man who tries to eat things that would poison him." Jon argued.

Martin snorted.

"Oh, hush your bloody lying face." Sasha gasped, pulling The Admiral closer.

"Never." Jon declared though he was fighting a smile.

The Admiral made a noise that oddly sounded like “down” and Sasha loosened her grip. The Admiral leapt from her arms to Jon’s lap, inspiring a gasp of surprise from the latter. The Admiral did a few circles before sitting primly upon his new perch.

"Oh yes, you're just so dignified, aren't you?" Jon huffed a laugh.

"Mrr." The Admiral agreed.

Martin chuckled and The Admiral's ears and eyes flicked toward him. Cat eyes scrutinized Martin for a long moment. Martin offered his closed hand. The Admiral looked at it warily before sniffing cautiously. Martin couldn't help but hold his breath. Then The Admiral bumped his head against Martin's hand and he, cautiously, pet the very dignified cat.

"Well, guess he approves for the moment." Sasha chuckled.

"I'm happy to hear that." Martin smiled.

Martin looked to Jon only to find him looking at The Admiral and Martin with so much fondness. Almost like a parent happy that their kid liked their partner.

Jon noticed his gaze and looked away, clearing his throat, "So, ah, any thoughts on dinner?"

"I figured we'd just get a pizza or two." Sasha shrugged.

"Well…" Jon drew out.

"Jon, no." Sasha put her hands on her hips and glared, "You are not cooking right now. I know just how hard it is to cook in that kitchen while in a wheelchair. No way. That idea is banned."

"Sasha, it'll be fine." Jon argued.

"I think I'm siding with Sasha on this, Jon. There's no reason to strain yourself unnecessarily. Pizza will be fine." Marti said.

"Yeah, listen to your boyfriend, Jon." Sasha smirked.

"You can just leave if you're going to be a brat." Jon crossed his arms at her.

She rolled her eyes, "Ah, yes, because caring about my friend is so bratty."

They glared at one another. Martin shook his head and continued to pet The Admiral. 

"They're being silly, aren't they Admiral?" Martin cooed. 

"Mrrp." The Admiral agreed. 

"Do you think your dad should wait til he can stand okay before he tries to cook for everyone?" Martin asked.

The Admiral made another noise of agreement and laid on Jon's lap.

Martin offered Jon a smile, "Looks like he agrees that pizza's the best idea."

"You sir," Jon pointed at his boyfriend, "are a sneaky pirate man."

"Oh, I know." Martin grinned.

Jon huffed, clearly refraining from smiling, "Fine, we'll do pizza."

***

The pizzas arrived moments before Tim did. He grinned as he settled at the table everyone was sat at, "Fresh pizza? Nice."

"You had very lucky timing." Martin informed, dutifully passing his friend a plate.

"Well, I'd still eat the pizza if it was cold." Tim shrugged.

Jon scrunched his nose in distaste, "Then you can split the leftovers with Sasha, since you're both pizza heathens."

"Please, it's not like I put sardines on pizza." Tim scoffed.

Martin chuckled as he watched the two go back and forth.

"There's nothing wrong with sardines." Jon argued.

"Maybe," Tim paused, "if you're a seal."

Jon sputtered, "I am not a seal!"

"Sure." Tim scrutinized him, "Could be a selkie though."

"Do you see any seal fur coats around? I think not!" Jon crossed his arms.

"Well, you'd obviously hide it. It'd be kinda stupid to wear something like that out and about every day. Way more likely to be stolen." Tim reasoned. 

"I think it'd be harder to steal a coat on someone than one hung in a closet." Jon argued.

"Dude, the likelihood of getting mugged would just go up because you'd look rich with a real fur coat like that." Tim said. 

"I-" Jon cut himself off then sighed, "That's actually a fair point."

Tim learned back with a grin, "I knew I could bring you around."

"That," Sasha said, amusement playing on her face, "was quite an argument."

"I may have agreed to his point about selkies but I still think sardines are good, even on pizza." Jon stated.

"Well, it's alright to be wrong, Jon." Tim grinned.

Jon smiled back, "I'm so glad to hear you can admit to your mistakes, Tim."

Tim opened his mouth to shoot off another smart remark but Martin held his hands up to stop them. Martin gave them an exasperated but amused look, "I think that's enough fighting over pizza for the day."

"Right, sorry Martin." Tim nodded then turned to Jon, "We'll resume it tomorrow."

"Tim." Martin warned.

Jon laughed, "No, I think I've had enough of that specific argument for a month, at the very least."

"Fine, fine." Tim chuckled and pulled a bottle to himself, "Now, who wants a drink?"

***

Martin tossed down another reverse card with a smirk, "Annnd reverse again."

"Right back at you." Jon said, putting one down as well.

"Oh my god, guys, please let someone else take a turn." Sasha groaned.

"No." Martin smiled and put down another one.

"How on Earth do you two have more reverse cards? There aren't even that many in the deck!" Tim whined.

"There are in mine." Jon said.

"I swear, you just bought several decks and put all the reverse cards in one, didn't you?" Sasha asked.

Jon tossed her a completely fake innocent expression, "I would never! The gall! Of my own friend!"

Martin put down a normal card only for Tim to slap down a reverse card. Martin snorted and put down a draw-two, "Pick up two cards, Jon."

"Like hell." Jon scoffed, stacking an identical card on Martin's.

"Hang on! Since when were we stacking?" Tim objected.

"Since always?" Jon and Sasha frowned at him.

Tim groaned, putting an arm over his face, "I hate how different house rules are for this dumb game."

"You could just quit." Sasha said, putting down her own draw-two.

"Never." Tim declared, throwing down a card of his own.

"It seems we're all rather competitive, huh?" Martin asked, placing down another draw-two.

Jon cussed under his breath.

"What's wrong, darling? Can't stack anymore?" Martin teased.

"Stupid draw-two cards." Jon grumbled as he began picking up ten cards to everyone's amusement.

"Oh, don't be such a sore loser, Jon." Sasha laughed as she placed down a card, "Uno, by the way."

"Shit." Tim muttered, looking at his cards then hopefully at Martin.

Martin shrugged, "I don't have anything. Sasha might just win."

"Not if I can help it." Jon said and placed down a wild card, "The color's, ah, green."

Sasha grinned and tossed her last card on the pile. A green eight. She turned her smug expression on Jon, "Thank you, my friend."

"Dammit!" Jon plopped his hand of cards on the table.

"Alright, since you won, what game are we playing next, Sash?" Tim asked.

The smile that splayed on her lips sent a nervous shiver down Martin's spine.

***

"Oh, and isn't that just the roughest luck?" Tim cooed as he happily received the last of Sasha's monopoly funds. He also got her property cards.

"I hate you a lot right now." Sasha glared.

"Oh, I know." Tim smiled.

"Welcome to bankruptcy, Sasha." Martin sighed. He'd lost awhile ago and had taken to working on some poetry til the game ended.

"This is hell." Sasha informed him.

Martin shrugged, "On the bright side, they should be done relatively soon."

"I hope so." Sasha sighed.

It only took two turns for Tim to land on one of Jon's decked out properties and to declare himself bankrupt in order to pay the rent of the space.

"Right, now, let's move on to another game, shall we?" Jon asked with a mischievous smile.

"Finally." Martin said.

***

"And since that's the last letter, let's tally the points." Sasha said.

They all nodded and counted their points. Martin blinked and recounted a few times as the others said their points.

"Dearest?" Jon asked.

Martin looked up and, in shock, told them his points. Similar looks of surprise arose on all their faces. Then Tim started snickering. Sasha tried to suppress giggles. Jon did the best job of hiding his amusement, a hand over his mouth.

"Were you even playing the same game, Martin?" Tim laughed.

"Yes." Martin grumbled.

Jon took his hand with an adoring but sympathetic smile, "I don't see how you could've gotten such a low score, my love."

"Me either." Martin pouted.

"It's just a game. No one thinks lesser of you for losing." Jon kissed the hand he was holding.

It was almost enough to melt Martin. He really just wanted to wrap Jon up in his arms and stay there forever. But before he could put that plan into action, Tim interrupted his thoughts.

"Do you feel up for one more game, Marto?" Tim asked.

Martin turned a determined look into him, "Yes. And I'm going to win."

***

"Ah, but the twins were rather diverted by drink thanks to the lovely circus they went to." Martin said, placing the positive points down.

"No!" Tim cried.

"But since the church had ruined Professor Helena's reputation thanks to Thumbelina, Thumbelina was, sadly, hung by a heretic." Martin said, finishing off his family, his turn and the game.

"That was such a good play." Sasha breathed.

"You utter bastard." Tim glared.

"We should count our points." Jon reminded.

"What's the point? I only managed to off one of my family." Tim huffed.

"Well," Jon began, "You never know."

"No, no, I'm fairly certain we all know Martin won." Sasha laughed. 

"Also, it has become very late." Jon conceded.

"It's not that late." Tim said. 

"Tim, it is half past three in the morning." Martin replied.

"Damn." Sasha muttered, "Can I just stay here tonight, Jon?"

Jon shrugged, "If you like. The couch is old but relatively comfortable and I have an air mattress somewhere, if all three of you wish to stay."

"I'll take the air mattress then." Martin decided. 

"Are you sure, man? I don't mind taking it." Tim said.

Martin waved him off, "It's fine."

"Then I guess that leaves Sasha to share with The Admiral." Jon said, avoiding the look his friend was giving him.

"Fine, I'll get the air mattress down for him then. It's on the top shelf in the hall closet, right?" Sasha asked.

"Yes, because Gerry is a dick." Jon nodded.

"Gerry?" Tim asked a bit warily.

"A former roommate with whom I occasionally go urban exploring with. He visits occasionally for early morning explorations." Jon explained with a shrug.

"So, not a former boyfriend who you still hang out with?" Tim asked.

"Well, firstly, that's none of your business." Jon glared, hackles raised, "Secondly, I don't hang out , as you so eloquently put it, with anyone. And thirdly, and most importantly, I am completely committed to dating Martin and only Martin. Because he is the only person I have romantic feelings for. Am I understood, Tim?"

"Yeah, well, we don't know each other that well and I need to be sure you aren't going to break my best friend's heart." Tim said, glaring back. 

"Guys, enough." Martin intervened. He turned to Tim first, "I am perfectly capable of handling my own relationships and my own heartbreaks. I appreciate that you want to protect me, but I'm a grown man and I'm allowed to make my own mistakes. Right?"

Tim looked away but nodded.

Martin turned to Jon, "I'm sorry Tim got under your skin and you had every right to be defensive, but I would appreciate you not taking such a harsh tone with him. I want you two to get along because I care about you both. Okay?"

"Okay." Jon nodded and looked at Tim, "I'm sorry for my tone."

"And I'm sorry for my insinuation and trying to get under your skin like that." Tim said. 

An understanding seemed to pass between them because they shared a nod.

Eventually, the couch and air mattress got set up and everyone went to try to sleep.

Chapter Text

Martin woke, both suddenly and in what felt like an eternity. He could feel a low hum of anxiety that coursed through him. He knew from past occasions that it was probably an anxiety attack of some sort. But he also knew that he had to check.

Martin sat up and slipped on his glasses, turning to Tim's form on the couch. With the near dead silence in the home, he could hear Tim's breathing, deep and consistent. Martin let out a sigh of relief and carefully stood.

Martin moved to the closed door of the room Sasha was in. Through it he could hear light snoring and what sounded like some sort of asmr. With a nod, he moved on.

Martin only had Jon left to check on, after all. He moved as quietly as he could, using the nearby wall for guidance. He paused when he saw the door slightly open. It might just be to let The Admiral have space, but Martin prepared himself just in case and slunk towards the door.

He peeked in the room. Jon was laying on his back, The Admiral curled up on his chest. But something felt… wrong. And then he noticed Jon's frame shaking.

"Jon?" Martin asked softly from the doorway.

"M-Martin." Came Jon's shakey answer, "Admiral. O-off. Pl-please."

Martin nodded and swiftly but carefully extracted the cat from Jon's chest. Jon sat up as soon as he was able, wrapping his arms around his legs and burying his face into his knees. It sounded like he was hyperventilating.

"Um, is it okay if I sit beside you?" Martin asked.

Jon nodded and Martin did after he put The Admiral on the floor. The Admiral chirped in protest before walking off. One moment, Jon was sat next to him. The next, Jon was pressing his face into Martin's chest. Martin tried not to wince when Jon's cast smacked his knee. Jon's hands gripped his shirt tightly.

Martin's hands hovered around Jon and he asked, "Do you want to be held?"

Jon shook his head, his breathing still too quick to be good.

"Alright." Martin put his hands down, "Can we do some breathing exercises?"

Jon nodded, still shaking, and pulled back some to follow Martin's lead. It took a little while, but Jon's breathing calmed and shaking stopped.

Jon buried his face in Martin's chest again, hands still gripping his shirt, if less tightly now. Martin kept his own breathing even and steady.

"I'm sorry." Jon mumbled.

"About what?" Martin frowned.

Jon shrugged and waved vaguely at the room.

"Jon, darling, you did nothing wrong, okay? And you don't have to tell me what happened if you don't want to. I'm just glad you're okay." Martin said gently.

Jon took a moment before replying, "Thank you, Martin."

"Any time. And I mean that. If you need me at any time, I will do everything in my power to be here for you." Martin assured.

Jon leaned back and gave him a wobbly smile, "I thought lesbians were the only ones who hitched their baggage together so quickly."

"The queer men can have a little baggage hitching." Martin replied, "As a treat."

Jon giggled and it was wonderful, even with eyes still wet. They sat there, a quietness spread around them like a light blanket. Jon snuggled further against Martin, taking one of his hands. He seemed to be examining it with curiosity.

Martin was happy to let him, relaxing his hand. Jon was still sniffling but otherwise seemed rather calmed down. He felt himself flush when Jon kissed his palm. Martin stroked his cheek.

"Martin?" Jon asked. 

"Mm?" Martin hummed, watching him softly.

Jon paused to find the right words, and looked down shyly, "I'm rather grateful to have met you. Which I know sounds sappy and probably a bit much given how little we know one another, but it's true nonetheless."

"Well, I'm also thankful to have met you , Jon. And maybe it is a bit early to say that, but if you feel like it's true as much as I do, then I think we're okay." Martin said. 

"You, Mr. Blackwood, are something special, aren't you?" Jon smiled up at him, eyelids drooping.

Martin chuckled, "I could say the same about you, Mr. Sims. You've really brightened my world."

Jon huffed at that and buried his face in Martin's chest again. He could hardly hear when Jon murmured, "You're warm."

"Thanks, I think." Martin laughed.

Martin wasn't sure how long they sat there like that, but by the time he realized Jon had fallen asleep, he knew he would be joining him not long after.

***

Martin awoke to a murmur of "Ah, there he is."

He blinked towards the doorway to find Tim peeking in. Martin frowned, "Why are you awake?"

"Baker hours, remember?" Tim teased softly, "Well that and I woke up and you weren't on the air mattress. Just wanted to make sure you were still here."

"Mm, yeah. Jon just…" Martin paused, looking down to where his boyfriend was sleeping peacefully in his arms. Martin couldn't help the smile that settled on his sleep-slack features, "needed me."

Tim let out a snort, "Really? Couldn't tell."

"Oh shut up, Tim." Martin blushed, "Shouldn't you be going back to sleep?"

"Nah," Tim stretched, "I'm wide awake now. Think Jon'll mind if I commandeer his kitchen to bake something?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. But I think he'd be more lenient about it if you share." Martin said. 

"Good point. Go back to sleep then." Tim nodded and turned to the hall.

"Don't blow anything up." Martin called after him.

"No promises!"

***

Martin awoke to a weight on his hip. He frowned blearily as he turned to look. The Admiral stared back. Martin raised a brow. 

"Mrra." The Admiral stated. He then moved so that his front paws were on Martin's shoulder and his back dug into Martin's ribs, "Mrrw."

Martin grimaced at the paws in his side but asked, "What? Is it time to wake your dad up?"

"Mrrp." The Admiral agreed.

"Alright, well, I can get him up but I need you to move, The Admiral." Martin reasoned.

The Admiral stared at him for a long moment. Then The Admiral perched himself entirely on Martin's shoulder. There was a beat. The Admiral swatted Jon's face, close pawed.

Jon jolted awake with a gasp. His eyes narrowed in on The Admiral and he glared, "You are a bastard."

The Admiral chirped proudly.

Jon waved the cat away as he sat up. Martin followed suit as soon as The Admiral leapt from his shoulder.

"Are you okay, Jon?" Martin asked. 

Jon huffed and took a deep breath, "I'm fine. Nothing like a shot of adrenaline first thing in the morning."

"I didn't know he was going to do that, I'm sorry." Martin said. 

"It's fine, dearest, I promise." Jon smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Okay." Martin hummed, happy for the affection.

Jon stretched carefully, as to not hit Martin. Martin yawned, rubbing his eyes, and Jon chuckled.

Martin couldn't help his pout, "What?"

"Just…" Jon bit his lip, smiling, "it was a cute yawn? Like watching a puppy yawn. Big and sleepy and adorable."

"Oh yeah?" Martin smirked, playfulness drumming inside him, "I'll show you adorable."

"Huh? Wait! Martin!" Jon cried as Martin pulled him close and blew a raspberry into his cheek. Jon laughed, loud and giggly with a mix of delight and disgust.

When Martin released him, Jon made an exaggerated face as he wiped off his cheek. Martin chuckled.

"What a horrible boyfriend I have." Jon joked, leaning into Martin.

"Oh? Horrible am I?" Martin asked, mischievous grin playing on his lips.

Jon nodded, unable to hide his own smile, "The absolute worst."

"I see." Martin nodded thoughtfully, "Then I should absolutely torment you with a raspberry once more."

Jon laughed and squirmed away, "No! Not again!"

Martin reached for him only to receive a pillow pressed into half of his face. A moment passed before Martin dramatically fell backwards on the bed, "Oh no! My only weakness! Pillows!"

Jon's laughter was like music to Martin's ears. And the fact that Martin had caused that laughter? Absolutely priceless.

"Well Tim, it seems they don't want breakfast." Came Sasha's voice.

"Looks that way. Damn shame for them, I make quite a good spread." Tim said.

Martin and Jon peeked from their piles of laughter to see Tim and Sasha standing in the doorway.

"I beg your pardon, but I do believe you would have had to use my ingredients for that meal." Jon objected, sitting up primly.

"He's got you there." Sasha shrugged.

Tim hummed, "Guess so."

Martin sat up and gave Tim puppy dog eyes, a pout clear in his voice, "I thought I was your best friend, Tim."

"Hey, don't pull that face! I see those crocodile tears." Tim pointed accusatorily.

"Tim, I would never." Martin pressed a hand on his chest, feigning a look of hurt.

"Bullshit." Tim huffed and crossed his arms with a pout, "Just get up and come get breakfast."

"Thank you!" Martin smiled cheekily.

"Uh-huh." Tim muttered, "Damn brotherly instincts."

"What? Can't say no to your little brother anymore than you can to Martin?" Sasha's tease was heard as they left the doorway.

Jon and Martin exchanged a happy little smile and set about heading for the kitchen.

Chapter Text

Breakfast was delicious, a beautiful spread of baked goods and proteins. Tim had really outdone himself.

"So how is Danny, Tim?" Martin asked.

"Good as usual. He's got some gig or such in town this coming week so he's bunking with me." Tim shrugged. 

"You should probably warn him off the more dangerous haunts while he's here. Don't need him breaking a bone." Martin said.

Tim sighed but nodded, "True. Jon? Sasha? Do either of you have a list of what abandoned places are too dangerous to explore?"

"Yeah, I think I left one here, actually." Sasha stood.

"Because Jon's a disaster?" Tim teased.

"Yes." Sasha said.

"I'm not that much of a disaster." Jon huffed.

Sasha simply raised a brow at him before walking off to find the list.

Jon glanced down at his phone when it buzzed and muttered, "Ah, right, I've got to update Georgie on The Admiral."

"Georgie?" Tim asked, more curious than anything.

"The Admiral's mum. She's at a work event so I'm taking care of him." Jon said, eyes on what he was typing, "Asked for a day to day update on how he's doing since it's been awhile since he visited last."

"Fair enough. I'm sure I'd want updates on my pet if I were off too." Tim nodded.

Jon hummed in agreement. Sasha returned with the list, handed it to Tim and began to clear the table. Martin stood to help. He wasn't going to just sit about if a task needed done.

"Oh, Martin, you don't have to help." Sasha laughed. 

"No, I want to." Martin assured.

Sasha shrugged, "Alright, we'll be back shortly. Is the dishwasher still on the fritz?"

"Yes, unfortunately." Jon sighed, leaning to talk to her as they moved to the kitchen, "Mechanic said the missing part would cost more than the machine is worth and I broke my leg before I could check Gran's shed."

"I can look after." Sasha offered.

Martin followed her lead into the kitchen, finding a hand towel to dry the dishes with.

"You just hate doing the dishes by hand." Jon accused, but his tone was amused.

"Yes, yes I do. You've a machine for a reason." Sasha shot back, fighting a smile.

"Lazy." Jon called just as the faucet turned on.

With a smirk, Sasha shouted, "Can't hear you!"

Martin chuckled softly.

***

When dishes had been done and hands dried, Martin and Sasha returned to where Jon and Tim were chatting amicably. It filled Martin with extra happiness to see after last night's butting of heads.

Martin pressed a kiss to Jon's temple, laying a hand on his shoulder. Jon smiled up at him and twined their fingers as he turned back to his conversation. Martin stood beside his boyfriend, relishing in the easy intimacy and domesticity. 

He knew not every moment was going to be so simple and easy. There were sure to be arguments and disagreements on the horizon, as with any relationship but that was okay. He hoped they'd be able to work through whatever came up. He wanted to.

And maybe he cared too much, too quickly. Martin wasn't sure how he'd found himself where he was now but he couldn't really be bothered to care. He was happy and he was fairly sure Jon was too. And wasn't that enough?

Chapter Text

"How do you feel about dancing, dearest?" Jon texted. 

Martin raised a brow, drying his hair with one hand as he replied, "I usually feel alright about it when my partner doesn't have a broken leg."

"Oh haha. I obviously didn't mean before my leg heals." Jon sent.

Martin chuckled, "Well, darling, if you want to go dancing, I'm sure I can accommodate you."

"Accommodate me? So a bad date idea then." Jon replied. 

"No, not at all. I just meant to tease you, Jon." Martin sent.

There was a few moments before another text popped up, "I mean, we don't have to. I merely thought it could be a romantic idea."

"It does sound like a romantic date that I would be happy to go on, love. I promise." Martin replied.

"Are you sure?" Jon asked.

Martin sighed softly. Texting always brought some interesting communication issues. But it would probably be weird if he just suddenly called, right?

"I'm absolutely positive. It sounds like a lovely idea for when you're all healed up." Martin sent.

"Okay." Jon replied.

"Is there anything you'd like to do in the meantime? I'd be down for just about anything as long as I get to spend time with you." Martin texted sincerely.

Martin had fully dried his hair and slipped into some clean pajamas by the time Jon finally replied.

"I do have papers to grade this week but I certainly wouldn't mind the company. I doubt that really counts as a date but I can admit it has been a little lonely since Georgie picked up The Admiral." Jon said. 

Martin smiled and bit his lip, "That sounds nice, actually. I can send you my schedule and we can work out the best day for me to come over."

"Thank you, dearest." Jon sent. 

"Of course, darling." Martin replied.

***

"Martin!" Tim called from the front.

"Be there in a second!" Martin replied as he set a timer and went to wash his hands.

Once his hands were properly washed and dried, Martin glanced at the various timers, nodded and left the kitchen to see what needed his attention. Tim and Danny turned to him with matching, signature Stoker grins.

Martin couldn't help but laugh, "It's good to see brothers reunited."

"Thanks, Marto." Danny said then leaned on the counter conspiratorially, "Big bro says you've got yourself a boyfriend. So what're the deets?"

"Of course. You're such gossips." Martin rolled his eyes fondly.

Tim laughed, "Don't act so shocked."

"There's not much to tell, Danny." Martin tried quelling his blush, "We met through a mutual friend bringing him here and we hit it off. We went on a few dates and decided to be partners."

"Boo, that's so wholesome." Danny groaned.

"That's really just their whole relationship though. Incredibly sweet and wholesome." Tim shrugged. 

"Now, if we're done trying to pry into my love life, I do think some timers will be going off here in a moment." Martin said, turning to the kitchen.

"Oh Martin! We should go out on the water while I'm in town!" Danny grinned.

"That sounds really fun but it'd probably have to be Sunday." Martin paused and smiled, feeling a tad guilty.

"Visiting her this week?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, sorry." Martin nodded.

"Nah man, it's completely fine. Sunday is good." Danny waved Martin's guilt away in the classic easy Stoker way.

"Alright." Martin chuckled.

"Hell yeah! Boys day!" Tim pumped a victory fist in the air.

Danny and Martin laughed at his antics before the trio agreed to text details in their group chat.

***

Martin hummed as he went about his grocery shopping. The last thing on his list was toothpaste. And unfortunately for him, his favorite brand was always on the bottom shelf. He spotted a new brand and picked it up to compare.

Martin crouched and grabbed one of his regular brand and began to read them both. He made a pro and con list in his head as he did. After several minutes, Martin found himself falling back on his favorite.

"Aside from my stuff, why are we at the store?" A voice that sounded suspiciously like Sasha asked.

Martin frowned and looked up to see her and Jon passing to the next aisle.

"I need to get some groceries as my cupboards are a bit bare at the moment." Jon replied. 

"Should we get you one of those portable hubs? You've got that stone table out back that looks about the right height." Sasha suggested.

"That actually sounds pretty good." Jon agreed, "How was Professor Górka by the way? We haven't spoken in a moment."

"Pretty good, though I'll have to be taking over the class while she goes on a dig the university is funding." Sasha shrugged.

Martin stood slowly and put away the toothpaste he wasn't getting. When he looked up, he saw Sasha staring at him.

"Well hi Martin." Sasha laughed. 

"Hi Sasha and Jon." Martin smiled a little awkwardly, waving the hand that held his soon to be purchase.

"Damn," Jon murmured, "I picked a tall one."

That got a snort from Sasha. Martin smirked, "Oh no, darling, you're just short."

Jon sputtered in surprise and huffed, crossing his arms, "I'm perfectly average height."

"Jon, my ten year old cousin is taller than you." Sasha argued.

"She has tall genes!" Jon rebuttaled. 

Sasha shook her head, laughing.

Martin offered Jon his softest smile and Jon matched it. A soft, silly moment between them to treasure. There were so many descriptors Martin's mind came up with but none of them did the moment justice. So he'd just have to settle for relishing it.

And then his stomach grumbled. It broke the trance as Jon chuckled and Martin blushed.

"I guess that's my sign to get going. I'll see you on Friday, Jon." Martin said.

"See you on Friday." Jon agreed. 

"Okay, uh, bye." Martin offered as he headed off and swallowed an "I love you" he wasn't ready to put into the world.

***

Martin parked in the driveway of Jon's home and stretched. His muscles were still a bit achy from the week of work. He sent off a text that let Jon know he was here and got out of the vehicle. 

Martin rounded to the passenger side and grabbed the food he'd brought along. He was sure it was going to be a rather chill evening. As he headed to the front door, he got a text from Jon asking him to use the bamboo key.

As Martin opened the door, he was hit by a wave of delicious cooking scents. He couldn't help but chuckle as he closed the door behind him. Guess there were going to be leftovers.

"Martin." Jon greeted warmly. Then he saw Martin's tupperware and huffed a laugh, "Did you also make dinner?"

"I did, darling." Martin grinned, "On the bright side, there will be plenty of food to share."

Jon shook his head in amusement and gestured at the pot on the hot plate, "This is almost finished so we should be able to dig in soon."

"Want me to grab some plates and bowls?" Martin asked. 

"If you don't mind." Jon nodded.

Chapter Text

Their dinner was delicious and they’d combined both dishes a bit so they could taste each. Doing that way also allowed them to have plenty of leftovers. Martin set about doing the dishes as Jon settled into the couch to work.

“Would you like any music, love?” Jon called.

Martin paused, hands covered in spuds, “Honestly, darling, I don’t mind either way. If it helps you work, go for it.”

“Alright.” Jon said. Quiet music began.

Eventually Martin finished up with the dishes and came to sit with Jon. Jon's focus was entirely on the papers in his hands. Several pens were stuck in Jon's ponytail and his glasses were further down his nose than usual. It was adorable. 

Martin decided to just settle and watch his boyfriend. 

***

Jon groaned and rested his head in Martin's lap. Martin frowned worriedly at him, "Darling?"

"My back." Jon grumbled.

"I'm sorry." Martin carded his fingers through Jon's hair, "Anything I can do?"

Jon shook his head, "My pain meds are too far and I want you here."

"Jon," Martin scolded lightly, "I'd rather you not be in pain over the cuddles."

His boyfriend scowled, "I'm quite capable of handling the pain, you know. I've had to since I was a teenager."

"I know you're capable, darling, but you shouldn't have to be in pain if we can help it." Martin said. 

"I'm fine." Jon crossed his arms and defiantly closed his eyes.

Martin sighed and pressed a kiss to his temple, "You're a stubborn one, my darling."

Jon made a noise of acknowledgement. Martin continued to run his fingers through Jon's hair. Silence spread between them and dread began to build for Martin. Each moment passing meant another closer to dealing with her . And how she'd inevitably beat his hard earned self-confidence down. Again.

Then, of course, Tim would be extra affectionate in attempt to balance it out again. Part of Martin truly appreciated it but part of him couldn't help but feel contempt for what felt like pity from his closest friend. And he knew Tim wanted him to stop visiting her but he couldn't. She was his only blood he knew. And he was hers.

"Martin?" Jon asked softly but nevertheless breaking Martin out of his thoughts.

"Mm?" Martin managed.

"Are you okay? You're trembling." Jon stared at him with eyes bubbling with concern.

"Y-yeah, just cold." Martin lied with a little laugh.

Jon just looked at him for a long moment. Almost like he could see through to all that made Martin up. The webs of white lies and half-truths he'd spent weaving to keep people from asking too many questions when he had struggled for money. The well meaning manipulations to make those around him smile and laugh. The walls he kept up, even for those closest to him. The truth of how broken and useless he was that his own mother held nothing but disdain for him. That he hadn't been enough to keep his father around.

"I don't know what's going on in that head of yours and I don't intend to pressure you to tell me. I do wish to say that I care for you deeply and want nothing more than to curl up with you every chance you allow me." Jon said.

Martin couldn't help it. That broke the floodgates and before he knew it, he was sobbing into Jon's shoulder, clinging to him with every ounce of strength he had. And Jon held him, comforting and stable, despite everything. 

Eventually, Martin cried himself out. The well known numbness greeted him as he pulled back from Jon. His boyfriend gently wiped up the tear trails from Martin's cheeks.

Habit more than anything whispered, "Sorry."

"You've nothing to apologize for." Jon informed him, simple and easy, "I'd offer to grab you a glass of water, but I feel as though you'd only nag me for my own sake."

Martin shook his head, "I'll be fine, Jon, thanks though."

"Of course, my love. I will insist you drink water before you sleep, however." Jon said.

"I, uh, I should actually drive home. I have to be up early." Martin sighed.

"I…" Jon paused, "I would prefer you stay, both to have you around and for your own safety."

"If I stay, I won't be able to leave when I'm supposed to." Martin couldn't help but smile.

"And would that truly be the end of the world?" Jon teased.

Martin let out a chuckle, "I suppose not."

Jon grinned and pressed kisses to Martin's knuckles, "I'm glad I could convince you."

***

A familiar noise sounded and Martin grumbled, still clinging to sleep, and snoozed the alarm. A sleepy groan sound from somewhere close. Martin's sleep-dredged brain distantly registered that he was actually at Jon's still. And that he had to get up to go see her .

Arms drew Martin closer and all thoughts aside from snuggling his boyfriend more disappeared. Jon sighed contently and Martin fell back into sleep.

***

Martin's eyes bolted open at the sound of his alarm. He scrambled for his phone, a task hindered greatly by the man all but on top of him. Martin successfully grabbed his phone and turned off the alarm. He squinted at the time and dread filled him.

Martin was late. Super late. Great, another thing for her to berate him for. Honestly why did he bother?

"Martin?" Jon murmured. 

"Sorry, darling, I've got to go." Martin whispered.

"But it's so early." Jon replied, eyes fully closed.

"I know, but I have to." Martin said. 

"No." Jon whined, snuggling closer.

"Jon, please." He laughed.

Jon shook his head. Martin gently pulled his arms off. He pouted. Martin kissed his forehead, "I love you, I'll see you later."

***

Martin dropped his bag at the door and then himself on his bed. His mum was so utterly exhausting. And she did hold him being late against him. 

"I thought you'd finally given up. I was about to celebrate." She had said.

It hit the same old wounds and Martin had to admit he didn't get why he kept going to see her. Neither of them really wanted him to. And yet.

Martin's phone rang and he answered, "I'm fine, Tim."

"Well, I think not checking your caller id might say elsewise, dearest." Jon said. 

Martin sat up in surprise, "Jon?"

"Yes, I was just calling to thank you for last night." Jon hummed.

"Oh, well," Martin felt himself blush, "it wasn't that big of a deal."

"Still, thank you." Jon said.

Martin smiled, "Of course, darling."

"That's really all I wanted to say." Jon chuckled. 

"Okay, I'll see you later then?" Martin asked.

"You will." Jon answered.

"Alright, til then." Martin said. 

"Until then." Jon agreed. Just before Martin hit the hang up button, Jon said, "I love you too."

Martin's eyes widened as his finger collided with the button. The call disconnected and his face burned. No way. Martin's hands covered his face. That definitely didn't happen. Jon didn't say that. Nope. No way. Definitely not.

Chapter Text

Martin grabbed his bag and headed for the door. One of the Stoker duo was incessantly ringing his doorbell. When he opened the door, Danny had the humility to at least look a little embarrassed. 

"You're going to break it if you do that every time, Danny." Martin said, locking up.

"How else am I going to get you out of your flat?" Danny smirked and they started down the corridor.

"I have a cell phone." Martin raised a brow in challenge.

"That's still making a lot of noise to draw your attention." Danny replied. 

Martin rolled his eyes, "Less likely to break if you use it."

"Eh." Danny shrugged, eyes on the floor.

Martin wondered if he was okay. Danny was overall more outgoing and talkative than Tim, so when he got quiet it usually meant he was working through some sort of problem. 

They found their way to the parking lot and to Tim easily enough. Especially with his waving and neon yellow cropped tank top. Martin rolled his eyes fondly. That was his best friend after all.

"You ready for an epic day kayaking?" Tim said in lieu of greeting.

"Probably." Martin said as unenthusiastically as possible. 

Tim huffed a sigh and crossed his arms, "Must you be so sarcastic?"

"Do you know me?" Martin teased.

Danny lightly slapped Martin's arm with a laugh, "C'mon, man."

"Alright, alright, I'm prepared." Martin raised his hands in surrender. 

"Just," Tim shook his head fondly, "get in the bloody car, Martin."

Martin shrugged and did as he was told, settling into the back seat. The Stoker brothers got in up front and Tim keyed the ignition. Danny put a cd into the dash and music started booming from the speakers. Martin laughed at the familiar tunes. He knew it was the road trip album.

***

Martin leant against the car and watched the Stoker brothers work their magic. The new attendant - Jesse, if their name tag was anything to go by - was the flustered victim of the max charisma and flirting from both Tim and Danny. They were laying it on thick today. Martin would be lying if he said he wasn't grateful he'd never been a target of their combined power. One at a time was enough, thank you.

Martin's mind drifted to his first meeting with Tim. Then to Danny. To Sasha. And, of course, to Jon. Martin had to say he'd been lucky. He'd found a wonderful group of people to surround himself with. People he loved and who loved him. It was good. And proof of just how wrong his mother was about him.

Martin shook the thought from his mind as the Stokers approached. 

"We're just about ready to go." Danny said.

Tim held a hand out to Martin and Martin rolled his eyes. He handed Tim the sunscreen. Tim grinned and went to work.

"You really should buy your own." Martin crossed his arms. 

"Why would I do that? My best friend is more prepared than an entire scout troop." Tim chuckled.

"Thanks." Martin said dryly. 

Tim passed the bottle to Danny and stretched, "Don't forget your neck."

"I won't, Dad." Danny rolled his eyes.

***

Martin let out a content breath, the paddle in his hands making contact with the water. The pressure he had to put to windmill the paddle, to keep moving in the direction he wanted, was rhythmic, repetitive and soothing. His muscles would strain just a bit every now and then when he had to move against the current, but it was nice. A low warmth seeped into his shoulders, his biceps and his upper back.

He'd forgotten how much he loved being out on the water. He certainly didn't take the opportunity to do this very often but maybe he should. If nothing else, it helped put his turbulent emotions to use. Which, admittedly, probably wasn't the healthiest way of handling it, but it was better than bottling it up. And the most beautiful part of being out here, aside from the natural beauty and all, was the fact that he could either be introspective or simply exist, thinking of nothing other than moving one arm then the other.

The sound of splashes bracketed him and he looked over to see the Stoker brothers had flanked him. Martin couldn’t help but roll his eyes fondly. He knew what was coming.

“Race you?” Danny asked, hope and excitement hiding in the corners of his smile.

“I don’t know.” Martin hummed and looked to the sky like he was mulling it over. Tim snickered and Danny had widened his eyes and stuck out his bottom lip to do a full on puppy dog pout. Martin sighed, acting put upon, “I suppose.”

“Yes!” Danny exclaimed and pumped his fist.

“Don’t act like you’ve won yet. I’m gonna leave you in the dust.” Tim shot.

“Yeah right!” Danny scoffed.

“Anyone have a landmark we’re racing to?” Martin asked.

The Stoker duo paused and looked out at the land that bracketed their kayaking trail. As one, they pointed to the same spot, “There.”

“You two are creepy when you want to be.” Martin muttered with a shake of his head. He took a breath, “Okay, ready?”

The trio prepared, in line with one another.

“Set.” Tim said. The other two nodded.

Danny grinned, “Go!”

***

“Ha!” Martin declared and spun his kayak to laugh properly in the Stoker brothers’ faces, “Bet you didn’t think I’d win!”

Tim glared and crossed his arms, “How’re you so good at this? Have you been going rowing without me?”

“No, I haven’t.” Martin grinned triumphantly.

“It was a good race, Martin.” Danny smiled. It was genuine.

“Well now I feel like a bad sport.” Martin huffed.

Danny snorted, “Ah, yes, my evil plan has worked.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Tim huffed, “We should probably get moving again. I’m starving.”

Martin could see the joke come to the forefront of Danny’s mind by his slow smirk. Martin facepalmed ahead of Danny saying, “Hi, Starving, I’m Danny.”

Tim stared at his younger brother for a long, uncomfortably silent moment. Then smacked the water with his oar. Water splattered in a far arc. Danny was soaked and Martin was sputtering at the water now in his face.

“Tim!” Danny cried with a glare to his brother.

Tim smirked with a shrug, “Asked for it.”

“At least you don’t have glasses.” Martin said as he tried, futilely, to dry his water spattered lenses on his damp shirt. He surrendered and placed them on his shirt’s collar in hopes of finding a cloth when they got back.

“Collateral is fair in love and war, my dear friend.” Tim replied.

Martin glared best he could at the blob he was pretty sure was Tim and pointed at him, “There will be vengeance, good man, mark my words.”

“I would expect nothing less.” Tim replied and the blob nodded.

“Cool, now can you not go too far so I don’t get lost? Because I can’t see.” Martin chuckled ruefully.

“Yeah, we’ve got you, Marto.” Danny said.

***

“Wow, this place is fancy.” Danny muttered as he looked around. He turned to his brother, “Can you afford this?”

Tim snorted and put his hands on his hips, “Of course I can.”

“Dude, you’re a baker. You don’t even own your shop.” Danny frowned.

“We get paid a pretty good amount, actually.” Martin said, pulling his cardigan closer around him.

Danny squinted at them, clearly not believing they had that much spending cash. Martin shrugged and Tim clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Tim moved towards the podium, pulling out his usual charm.

“So, uh, how’ve you been?” Danny asked with a glance at Martin.

Martin smiled, he couldn’t help it, “Pretty good, for the most part. It’s not just getting into a new relationship, y'know. Sales have been good, Helen and Michael have been hands off and pay well, customers have been nice and the weather’s been lovely.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Martin.” Danny’s smile was small, almost uncertain, maybe even a little… sad? Martin didn’t understand and Danny looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. Martin frowned. He wondered what Danny was thinking. Why the atmosphere between them felt tense. Like there were things unsaid that Martin was oblivious to. He didn’t like it. Both the not knowing and the air of awkwardness that was radiating off of Danny. He opened his mouth to speak but Tim waved them over.

The trio followed the host to a table and sat at the booth, the Stokers on one side and Martin on the other. It shouldn’t have felt as lonely as it did. Silence fell as they looked over the menus. It ate at Martin in a way he couldn’t quite place. He shook his head and refocused on finding a suitable meal.

After they ordered, conversation was struck. Nothing deep, nothing of note, but nice nonetheless. It eased the tension Martin had been feeling. Especially when Danny snorted at a joke he made. Okay, they were okay. He didn’t want to lose his friendship with Danny, but it probably wasn’t as fragile as his anxiety had implied. And so, the rest of the day went smoothly.

Chapter Text

Martin sighed, thoughts flitting about as he filled some pies. Today had been a busy morning and afternoon. They'd actually sold out of some things by the end of the lunch rush. It had calmed for now so he was getting as much prepared for the evening rush as he could.

Martin sealed the pies, slotted the baking sheet into the oven, set the timer and shut the oven door. He took a deep breath, checked the other timers, nodded and headed to the front with two trays of refills. A scan of the front proved it empty so he set to restocking. It was almost unnatural how quiet it was when Tim had the day off. 

The door's bell jingles and Martin glanced up with a friendly, "I'll be right with you."

The baker quickly set his trays aside and stood, disposing of his gloves. He turned to his customer, a wide and friendly smile across his lips, "How can I help you?"

The person before him was nearly as tall as he was, with poorly dyed black locks, and a menagerie of tattoos. They wore partially torn black skinny jeans, a chain belt, a dark green messenger bag, a mesh long sleeved top that was long enough to double as fingerless gloves, a band tee and a choker. They also held a vase of flowers. Martin couldn't help but blink at them. They raised a brow, "Are you Martin Blackwood?"

"Um, yes." Martin nodded.

"Good, this is for you." They placed the vase on the counter, fished a letter from their messenger bag and put it next to the vase. They turned and headed out with a salute. 

Confused and more than a little curious, Martin opened the letter first. It read:

"Dearest Martin,

I hope this letter and bouquet finds you well. And I thought, my dearest, that you might like to know them and their meanings.

I ris of Blue for Hope and Yellow for Passion.

L avender for Happiness and Devotion.

O rchid of Purple for Respect and Admiration.

V alerian for Readiness.

E lderflower for Compassion.

Y arrow for Inspiration.

O x-eye Daisy for Patience.

U lex for Hope.

You mean more to me than even words can express and I hope the flowers might help in such matters. I’m sorry the letter is so simple this time but I trust you can decipher my meaning.

Lovingly yours,

Jonathan Sims"

Martin reread the letter, brow furrowing. It was odd how Jon had composed the letter and more, the flower names and their meanings, with the first letter of each flower name typed and in bold. The line about deciphering his meaning piqued his curiosity. Martin checked that the front was, in fact, still clear then quickly grabbed a pencil and a scrap of paper. A few moments later, he had the oddities written out.

The cipher Jon had apparently written him read:

“I love you.”

Martin felt his face burn with a blush and his heart turn to mush. Jon did say it, then. When they’d last spoken on the phone, that is. But now, he was saying it again. In a clever and discreet way. Martin covered his face with his hands and tried not to squeak too loudly.

After a moment of breathing, Martin took the bouquet and found it a place, then watered Sprinkles and tucked the letter back into its envelope and his own bag. He still had things he needed to do, so he could have a small, happy breakdown after work. Right, yes. Work then being head over heels with his boyfriend. Right.

***

Martin looked up at the sound of the door’s bell. Sasha walked in with an exhausted expression. Martin offered her a sympathetic smile, “Evening, Sasha, everything okay?”

“Mm? Yeah, just exhausted. Being what amounts to a substitute is a bit tiring.” She laughed and rubbed a hand over her eyes, “I just need some caffeine.”

“I can offer tea and normal black coffee? Tim’s got the day off, sorry.” Martin said.

“That’s fine, you’ve got matcha, right?” Sasha asked, leaning against the counter.

Martin nodded, “We do. Want anything to eat?”

“Thank you but no, I’ve got leftovers and I have to do lots of grading tonight.” She explained.

“Gotcha.” He turned to make her tea, “I assume you’re not planning on sitting?”

Sasha laughed, a weary thing, “Hell no, I’ll never want to get up again.”

“Fair enough.” Martin nodded. It took a few moments but the matcha was eventually ready and delivered to the tired woman at his counter. Sasha tried to hand him her card but he waved her off, “I’ve got you covered for today. I haven’t comped anything for myself today, so I’ll give it to you.”

“But you don’t have to.” Sasha frowned, brows furrowed.

Martin offered her a gentle smile, “I know, but I want to. You’re my friend, Sash.”

Tears formed in her tired eyes and she muttered curses as she wiped them away. She stomped her foot in frustration but it was light in her voice, “You can’t just say stuff like that when someone’s tired, Martin. Come on, man. Dammit.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Martin laughed anxiously.

“I’m not mad at you. What you said was very sweet.” Sasha sniffled, “Can you pass me some napkins?”

“Yeah, here, sorry again.” Martin passed over a handful of napkins.

“You’re fine.” Sasha sighed and wiped at her face with the newly acquired napkins.

Martin bit his lip and tapped the keys on the register light enough that they wouldn’t register but hard enough to make a little click sound. Sasha tossed the used napkins and took a long sip of her matcha. Then she put a hand on Martin’s shoulder and squeezed, giving him a watery but reassuring smile. She pulled away and sighed.

“You’ve got to go, I know. Mind how you go, okay?” Martin said.

“Will do. You too, Martin.” Sasha nodded and headed out.

Martin sighed and rang up her drink with his employee comp then turned to start tending to close up cleaning.

***

Martin paused as something caught his eye. He shifted his stack of books to his non-dominant arm and picked the item up. He examined the interesting pack of sticky notes, curiosity building. If they worked like it said they did, that could be really cool. He put the sticky notes in his stack then pulled out his phone.

"Darling, do you use sticky notes?" Martin texted Jon.

It took a moment before Jon replied, "Yes, mostly for annotating. Why?"

"Just at the store and considered picking some up for you." Martin answered.

"Oh!" Came Jon's message with a quick follow up of, "That would be absolutely lovely, dearest, but you shouldn't feel any pressure to do so. I do, however, appreciate the thought any which way."

Martin rolled his eyes fondly and replied, "Alright. We're still on for tomorrow, yeah?"

"Of course, unless something comes up on your end?" Jon asked. 

"Unless an emergency happens, I should be free." Martin said and picked up a second pack of sticky notes. May as well, especially if they worked.

Jon responded, "Do let me know if it does."

"Will do, darling." Martin paused, considering, then sent, "I've got to finish my shopping trip, so I'll text you when I get home. Love you."

Martin had both arms full when his phone vibrated, likely with Jon's reply. He smiled at the thought and hurried in picking up the other items he'd planned to get this trip. 

As Martin settled on the tube, he took a look at his phone. Jon, the cheesy man, had sent a photo of a bouquet of lavender flowers with loopy text laid across it that read, "I love you too."

Martin couldn't help his grin and pocketed his phone. He couldn't wait to see Jon tomorrow. 

***

Martin entered the house with a grin, holding a bag from his bookstore trip with excitement. Jon greeted him with a bright smile, "Hello, dearest."

"Good morning, love." Martin pressed a kiss to Jon's temple and placed the bag in his lap.

"Oh? What's this?" Jon blinked at it.

Martin shrugged with a smirk and squeezed Jon's shoulder, "Why don't you open it and find out?"

Jon's eyes sparkled with curiosity and interest. He carefully put a hand in the bag and pulled out the first object, a lined journal with a cactus pattern on the cover. He laughed and did a quick flip of the pages then set it to the side to pull out another item. This time it was a book titled, "How to stop your cat from being a bastard: a guide."

"Oh wow, I need to get Georgie a copy of this so we can better train The Admiral." Jon grinned.

"Only if it's actually good. It had good reviews but I figured you'd be a better judge on it than me." Martin shrugged.

Jon squeezed his hand, "Thank you either way. Is there more?"

"Yup, two, no three, more things." Martin nodded.

Jon raised a brow but brought out the next item. He looked at it then dropped it back into the bag before putting his head in his hands with a good natured groan.

Martin smirked, "What's wrong, darling? You said you like mysteries."

"Scooby-Doo does not count in that." Jon shot him a playful glare.

"So you don't like Scooby-Doo?" Martin raised a brow.

Jon rolled his eyes fondly, "Don't be ridiculous. But really? The collection of films where the paranormal beings are real? Why these ones?"

"Because they're the best of the animated films." Martin waved at them.

Jon squinted at him then the movie collection. Jon sighed and put it with the other things and reached inside the bag. He frowned then used both hands to pull out a thick book. Jon read the cover inquisitively. His brows rose, "An encyclopedic book of English etymology? This is incredible! How did you find this?"

"Well, I knew I was going to have a bookstore trip and found that on the awful site. Asked the bookstore if it could be ordered and it could." Martin smiled, "So I did. I thought you'd enjoy it."

"I'm going to spend so much time reading this." Jon muttered.

"Well, there is one more thing in there and I think it might help with that endeavor." Martin chuckled. 

Jon fished for the last item then pulled out the package of transparent sticky notes. His jaw dropped. When he picked it back up, he muttered, "There's no way this works."

"Why don't you try?" Martin offered him a pen.

Jon opened the package, took the pen, wrote something simple on the top note and placed it on a random page. And stared. It was almost perfectly translucent. Jon gaped and Martin couldn't help but chuckled.

"Good lord." Jon breathed.

"I know, right?" Martin said, "I tried them yesterday and was just as surprised."

"These are amazing, I need one hundred packs." Jon said. 

Martin raised his brows, "One hundred packs? That is so many, Jon."

"I know." Jon nodded.

"Jon, darling, you probably don't need over a thousand sticky notes." Martin frowned. 

Jon frowned back, "Maybe you don't, but I am a professor at a university, love. I have a lot of students. These could be very useful."

"Maybe start off with ten packs and see how far they stretch?" Martin suggested.

"That's," Jon's frown morphed to a pout, "a good idea. Darn."

"Love you." Martin smiled.

Jon rolled his eyes fondly, "I love you too. Should we get settled for our marathon?"

"Yeah. Here, I'll put these on the table." Martin scooped up the stack of books and put them back in the bag. He placed the bag on the table.

"Thank you." Jon smiled and reached for Martin's hand. Once he received it, he pecked the back of it.

Martin, flustered but emboldened, leant down and kissed the hand holding his. Jon made a noise of surprise then turned his face away. 

Jon cleared his throat, "Right, the marathon."

Martin chuckled and followed his boyfriend to the couch.

Chapter Text

Martin washed his hands in preparation for the dough he needed to stuff and crimp into hand pies. They were a lot of work compared to most of the rest of what the bakery served but they were also one of Martin's favorite dishes to work on. A comfortable monotony with just enough individualism that it wasn't completely mind numbing. It was precise yet messy and most days that was delightful.

Chatter from the front informed Martin that customers had come in and Tim was doing his thing. Content to indulge in some introvertism, Martin continued his work. He got a full tray of hand pies finished before  Tim stuck his head in. Martin raised a brow at him.

"Boyfriend's here." Tim sang.

 Martin's cheeks warmed, "I don't always have to see him when he comes in."

"Oh." Tim smirked, "So I shouldn't take over."

"You don't have to take over, I just have to put the pies in the oven." Martin glared.

Tim chuckled, "I'll tell Jon you'll see him in a moment."

Martin was tempted to throw something at his best friend but, being in his work kitchen, restrained to put the tray in the oven instead. A quick set of a timer and Martin moved to the front.

A scan showed Jon settled at a table, engaged in conversation with Danny. The two seemingly getting along warmed Martin's heart. He really loved when those he cared about being friendly. He couldn't help but smile as he approached. 

Jon looked up when Martin approached, his face shifting into softness and affection enough to cause Martin's face to burn. Jon smiled, "Hi, dearest."

"Hello, darling." Martin replied, taking his boyfriend's hand. He smiled at the other men, "I'm glad to see you two getting along."

"Oh, uh, yeah." Danny rubbed the back of his neck, "We're just talking about the local urban explorer haunts."

"That's cool." Martin nodded, "Just be careful please."

Danny ducked his head, "I will. I've done it for years, after all."

"So have I, to be fair." Jon said and then gestured at his leg, "But you can still get hurt, no matter how experienced."

"True, I guess." Danny sighed. He leant back, arms crossing.

Martin frowned at the shift in Danny's mood. He wasn't sure what had changed that or if he'd done something wrong. It reminded him of the shift during the day they'd gone out on the water. He hesitated, "Danny, is everything okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, no, I'm fine." Danny shrugged, an attempt at nonchalance.

Martin didn't want to push it but he was also pretty sure Danny was lying. His attention drew to Jon when his boyfriend squeezed his hand. Jon shook his head subtly, a message not to push it. At the same time, the oven alarm went off.

"Alright, I just wanted to say hi. I've gotta go back to work." Martin squeezed then released Jon's hand before heading back to the kitchen. His heart felt a little heavy as he worried if his friend was upset with him.

***

“Hey Tim?” Martin paused his sweeping to look at the other man.

Tim looked up from where he was wiping down the coffee machine, “Hm?”

“Has Danny seemed off to you recently?” Martin frowned.

“Maybe a little more pouty than usual, but,” Tim shrugged, “not much more than that. That I’ve noticed anyway.”

“Is he maybe mid-switching hyperfixations?” Martin suggested though he didn’t think so.

Tim shook his head, “Nah, he’s been talking about urban exploring with anyone who’ll let him. I don’t think it’s that.”

They finished cleaning in a thoughtful silence and locked up. Tim put his hands in his pockets, “Y’know, you could always just ask him what’s up.”

“I mean, logically, yeah, but what if he doesn’t want to tell me or lies?” Martin countered.

Tim nodded and shrugged, “Fair enough. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“I’ll just wait and see if he’s still. . . weird next time we talk, I guess.” Martin sighed.

“Sounds like a plan.” Tim agreed, “And I’ll keep an eye out, obviously.”

“That’s what big brothers do, isn’t it?” Martin smiled.

Tim grinned, “Yeah, you’re right.” 

Martin rolled his eyes fondly and patted Tim’s shoulder, “Get home safe, okay?”

“I’ll do my best. You too!” Tim exclaimed as he headed off.

Martin watched him go for a bit, thoughts still swirling in his brain. He shook it to clear it best he could and turned towards home.

***

Martin settled a blanket across his lap, pressed play on his phone and leant back into his couch. The smell of his tea tickled his nose but he knew far too well that it still needed some cooling. The tip of his tongue stung but that wasn’t an unusual sensation, as his impulse control when it came to tea wasn’t the best. Especially when he was stressed.

He closed his eyes and focused on the story playing on his phone. He found the characters surprisingly endearing and charismatic. He knew going in that things would get. . . problematic, so his immediate interest in the main duo was something of a shock to him. Understanding of some of what he’d heard about it dawned as the duo bantered in a way that made him smile.

Listening to this was probably going to hurt and Martin could just quit before he got invested. He bit his lip, considering it. It would be the smart thing to do. But he was too curious for his own good. He wanted to understand what all went wrong and how those who had listened to it hadn’t fully realized it until they got to the end of the story. So, he continued to listen. Partially in horror at the abduction. Partially in fascination by the main duo’s chemistry.

Episode two came and with it, a realization about one of the main characters. A realization that, unfortunately, invested him further.

***

Martin looked down the street to see Tim heading his way. With a nod, Martin held the door open for him. Tim offered a tired smile as he entered and Martin followed. They yawned in sync and that solidified Martin’s intent to get some caffeine started.

Tim moved towards the kitchen, “Did you put up a checklist when you closed last night?”

“Yeah. Should be on the fridge. Want tea or something?” Martin stretched.

“Sure, whatever you make is fine as long as it’s got some kick.” Tim said then disappeared into the kitchen.

Martin nodded and started a pot of tea with one of the higher caffeine blends. He then booted up the register, writing a quick note on a sticky to remind himself to comp his and Tim’s tea. As it woke up, he went and watered Sprinkles. Martin checked the calendar to see if the thyme plant needed any extra nutrients or if it was a snipping day. Neither was listed for the day and he nodded, murmuring a good morning to the shop’s mascot. He hoped he wouldn’t have to worry about losing Sprinkles any time soon. The plant really made the bakery feel more homey. And it reminded him of his boyfriend, of course.

With a smile, Martin went to check the register and tea progress. With both still in the works, he did a quick sweep up of the front and put the chairs at their designated tables. Alarms sounded from the kitchen, indicating Tim was making good progress despite his clear sleepiness. Martin turned to dusting, which didn’t take particularly long as the store had only been left alone for the evening. He put the duster up just as the kettle went off.

Martin poured the contents of the kettle into two mugs then followed it up with their specificities. He placed his near the register to cool some, comped the drinks and took Tim’s mug into the office. Tim would likely go check there for any emails from the owners after most of the morning’s fresh bakes were in the oven or the case in the front. Then Martin returned to the work he was doing to set up the front.

***

“You know, our dates don’t always have to be surprises.” Jon raised a brow as he got into Martin’s car.

“Oh, I know.” Martin closed the boot and rounded to the driver’s side, “But I like surprising you.”

Jon huffed, amusement and fondness on his face, “You’ll be the death of me. You and your bloody surprises.”

“You know you love me, darling.” Martin winked.

“And I know you love me too, dearest.” Jon smiled and settled further into his seat.

Martin blushed, “I do.”

There was a quiet moment as Martin got them on the road and headed towards their destination. The silence was comfortable but Martin couldn’t help but feel the urge to talk to his boyfriend. He bit his lip and glanced at Jon, “So, I may have listened to that podcast you told me not to.”

“What? Why?” Jon’s eyes were widened and confused.

“Well,” Martin sighed, “you have feelings about it and I wanted to understand why. Plus, I’m a naturally curious person.”

Jon nodded and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. He chewed on his words for a time then turned towards Martin, “So, uh, what did you think? Generally.”

“Generally, I think it had a lot of promise and a lot of problems too. There’s a lot that proved that the creators didn’t discuss it with people from those groups. But wow, the main characters? Like, I wasn’t expecting to find them so charming, let alone as early as episode one.” Martin said.

“Oh, I completely agree with all of that.” Jon said emphatically. He chuckled wryly, “Did you ship anyone?”

Martin raised a challenging brow, “I don’t know, did you ship anyone?”

Jon snorted and the rustle of fabric indicated he’d crossed his arms, “I asked first, my love.”

“Fair enough, fair enough.” Martin laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, “This is going to sound dumb.”

“Martin, I doubt you would ship a pair that would surprise me.” Jon patted his arm.

“Yes, well, um,” Martin blushed as he admitted, “I shipped a polycule?”

“Oh?” Jon asked, curiosity obvious in his tone, “Would assuming our main trio be a good guess?”

Martin chuckled wryly, “Yeah, you’d be correct. Though it grew when we found out about Jack, y’know.”

Jon laughed at that.

“Hey, you asked.” Martin pouted.

“Oh, no, dearest, I’m not laughing at you or your ship. I just find it funny that you went into a tiny fandom and picked a rare ship of all things.” Jon mused.

“Yes, well, they’re the ones who had the chemistry.” Martin shrugged.

Jon smiled, “Oh, I know. I shipped them too.”

“You did?” Martin asked.

“Mmhmm.” Jon hummed.

Before Martin could ask about specifics, they reached their destination. The British Library.

Chapter Text

Martin and Jon entered and their eyes were immediately drawn to the posters and banners the Library had about the front doors and information desk. Martin grabbed a brochure and they scooted to one side to formulate a game plan. Jon unfolded the informational pamphlet in search of a map. He grinned when he found it, bringing it higher so Martin could read it too.

"I think maybe we should go like this." Jon ran his finger across the map to indicate his desired path.

Martin hummed, then traced a different path, "What about like this?"

"I suppose that could work too but I think my path would optimize the time it takes to go through." Jon said.

"But that's not the point. The point is to explore, to wander, to take our time." Martin argued.

"That's," Jon sighed, "fair. It just, er, makes me a tad anxious."

"To not go on the optimized route?" Martin asked. He supposed that made sense with what he knew of Jon. He did try to organize and optimize the spaces Martin had seen. At Jon's small nod, Martin pressed a kiss to the top of his head, "Okay, we'll try the route you suggested."

"But-"

"This is a date. It's supposed to be fun and as anxiety-less as possible, darling." Martin smiled softly.

Jon pouted a little, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Martin asked. 

"That you won't be able to go through the way you want due to my stupid anxiety." Jon crossed his arms and didn't meet Martin's gaze.

"Jon, there's nothing to be sorry for. You can't control what your anxiety will react over. I know I sure can't." Martin said.

"I know, I know. But it doesn't stop me from feeling guilty about it." Jon sighed.

"Hey, the main point for me is to spend quality time with you. That's all, darling." Martin assured. 

Jon peeked up at him, "You sure?"

"I'm positive." Martin nodded.

"Okay." Jon breathed, "Let's go."

***

They followed the route Jon had suggested, stopping and enjoying the artifacts as they came across them. The British Library had a rather impressive collection. Though, Martin had to wonder how much was stolen and how much was actually donated. It was something he had to acknowledge even as he relished the opportunity to learn about the artifacts, their cultures and their histories. 

Jon spun his chair, the edge of his, frankly geeky, skirt swishing thanks to the motion. He pointed at a display and delved into a thorough ramble. His face lit up with joy as he shared the information with Martin and Martin’s chest filled with warmth and fuzziness. Listening to Jon was certainly one of his favorite things, but even more so when he fell into a special interest ramble. Martin nodded as he listened and scribbled some notes in his phone.

Eventually, Jon summed up his thoughts and then smiled shyly, “Sorry, I, uh, get ahead of myself sometimes. You probably didn’t want to hear all that.”

“Are you kidding?” Martin shook his head, “That was awesome. I don’t think I would’ve learned so much about this otherwise. Plus, your side comments about its history were both funny and informative. It was cool.”

Jon blinked at him a few times then ducked his head, clearly blushing, “Really?”

“Uh, yeah? I wouldn’t say that out of politeness, Jon. Tim can tell you that much.” Martin assured.

“Oh, er, okay.” Jon murmured but Martin could hear the smile in his voice.

Martin grinned, “Do you know anything about this one?”

And so they went on like that. Stopping at each display and one or the other going on a ramble about what they knew of it. There was a surprisingly small overlap in what they didn’t know about. It made for, in Martin’s humble opinion, a fantastic date. And the smiles he got from Jon made it even more worth it. He’d do just about anything for his boyfriend’s joy and happiness.

***

“Wow, we really spent all day out, huh?” Martin chuckled as they settled into the car.

Jon laughed, “Well, time flies, right dearest?”

“Of course, darling.” Martin stretched and looked over, “Do you want dinner out or should we order in?”

“Oh, I think order in. You must be exhausted with all that walking.” Jon frowned.

Martin raised a brow, “And you aren’t with all the upper body exercise you’ve done today?”

Jon laughed and bumped Martin’s shoulder gently with his forehead, “Fair enough. Let’s just head home either way, dearest.”

“As you wish, darling.” Martin smiled and turned the ignition, “Just think about what you’ll want, okay?”

“I think I can do that.” Jon hummed.

***

Martin smiled as Jon curled up next to him. He pulled Jon close, careful not to jostle his bad back too much, and buried his nose in Jon’s hair. Jon chuckled, squirming even closer. This was the perfect ending to a date night and no one would ever be able to take that from him. It was simple and warm and romantic. Hopelessly perhaps. But he and Jon were happy and that’s all that mattered.

“I love you, Martin.” Jon murmured, sleep clearly attempting to steal him away.

Martin smiled and sighed contentedly, “I love you too, Jon.”

Chapter Text

Martin shot a greeting towards whomever entered as he finished ringing up one of their regulars. He smiled at the elderly man as he passed over the change, “Alright, have a wonderful day, Mr. Simon.”

“I will. Thank you again, Martin.” Mr. Simon smiled and ducked out.

Martin looked to see who had entered. The tall goth who’d delivered the flowers and letter from Jon stood before him. Martin could admit they were a bit more intimidating than he’d ever state aloud. He offered a polite smile, “Oh, hello.”

“Hey, Martin!” Danny greeted, stepping from around the goth.

“Danny! Hi. Are the two of you here together?” Martin asked.

“Yup, this is Gerard Delano by the way. We’re doing some urban exploring today.” Danny informed.

“Ah, it’s nice to officially meet you, Gerard.” Martin nodded at them.

“Nice to see you haven’t hurt Jon yet, Marin.” Gerard said with a raised brow.

Martin frowned, “I don’t intend on ever hurting him, Gerard.”

“We’ll see.” Gerard replied then looked down at Danny, “We do have a schedule to keep. The security switch is in an hour and a half.”

“I know, I know.” Danny waved them off and leant on the counter, “Marto, can you grab Tim for me? He accidentally grabbed my explorer’s pack when he left this morning.”

“Oh, yeah, one moment.” Martin nodded. He ducked into the kitchen, “Hey, Tim, Danny says you have his bag?”

Tim looked over as he closed the oven. With a quick twist of his wrist, the timer was set, “Right, it’s in the office. I can grab it if we’re busy up there?”

“No, I can get it. It’s just Danny and the person he’s going exploring with up front right now.” Martin shrugged and headed to the office.

“Oh? Who’s this person he’s exploring with?” Tim asked, eyes narrowing protectively.

“Uh, their name is Gerard Delano? I forgot to ask about their pronouns.” Martin chuckled awkwardly and searched for the bag.

“Gerard Delano?” Tim frowned.

“Yup.” Martin smiled when he found it and grabbed it, “That’s all the info I’ve got.”

Tim hummed, “Hmm, could they be Jon’s friend Gerry?”

“I mean, maybe. I haven’t asked though.” Martin shrugged again.

“You are the least curious person I’ve ever met.” Tim grumbled and went to wash his hands.

Martin walked back out to the front and passed the bag to Danny, “Here you go. I think Tim might come talk to you here in a second?”

Danny rolled his eyes fondly, “Of course he will.”

“Hey, brothers do what brothers do.” Martin said.

Tim popped up with a bright smile, “Danny, little bro! Oh, and who’s this?”

“This is Gerard Delano.” Danny sighed, “He’s going exploring with me today.”

“Nice to meet you, Gerry.” Tim’s smile was a lot more fake as he turned it onto Gerard.

“It’s Gerard.” Gerard said, wary gaze on Tim, “Are you planning on interrogating me? Because I don’t have time for that.”

“What? No, no! I just wanted to meet my brother’s new friend is all.” Tim laughed.

Martin side-eyed Tim but moved away to clear the tables. He wasn’t about to get involved in whatever this was.

“Well, you’ve met me.” Gerard raised an unimpressed brow, “Was there anything else?”

“Nope.” Tim popped the “p” and shrugged, “As long as you don’t let my brother get hurt, we’ll be good.”

“If he gets hurt, it’ll either be from not paying attention, bad luck or a combination of the two.” Gerard stated.

“A fact that I’m well aware of and a risk I’m willing to once again take.” Danny said. Martin could hear the look he was giving his brother. Danny huffed, “I’m an adult, Tim, I can handle myself.”

“I know that.” Tim said, “Doesn’t mean I can’t be worried about you. I mean, Jon’s injured currently because he went exploring.”

“Yeah, well I’m not Jon.” Danny spat. Martin looked over in surprise at the vitriol tone to see him turn on his heel and storm toward the door, “C’mon Gerard, we’ve got a schedule to keep.”

Gerard looked at Tim for a moment before sighing and following Danny. 

Tim stared after his brother in surprise. He turned wide eyes at Martin, "That just happened, right?"

"Um, if you mean that Danny snapped at you, yeah." Martin frowned, wiping his hands on his apron.

"I was just worried." Tim crossed his arms, brows furrowing.

Martin worried his lip, "I think he might have taken it as you not trusting him?"

"But I'd never mean it like that." Tim said. 

"I know…" Martin nodded. He ran the scene through his head, trying to figure out where Tim might've overstepped. He wasn't sure he could find an answer.

Tim fidgeted then gave his head a hard shake, "I'll apologize when he gets home. I've got to get stuff cooking."

"Okay." Martin watched Tim retreat to the kitchen with a heavy feeling in his chest. He hoped the Stoker brothers could sort whatever this was out. They were all each other really had. It'd be bad for them both if this caused a chasm.

***

Martin adjusted the box in his hand, wiping the other free of sweat. Movement caught his eye and he turned to get out of the way. Instead, he found a dog walking up to him. He froze as they sniffed his leg, their tail wagging. Satisfied, the dog looked up at him. He smiled and offered his closed hand for more sniffs. The dog's tail wagged more enthusiastically and overall looked happy for the attention.

Now, Martin knew one shouldn't really pet strange animals. But, really, who could say no to those big brown eyes? He was careful, of course, and only pet them as he recalled being taught to when he was little. Head to tail, gently, slowly. The speed of the dog's tail increased and they leant into the pets. They spent a few moments becoming friends.

The dog stepped away and looked toward the door. Martin once again wiped his hand. He looked at the time and nodded. Jon should be between classes. Which meant it was time for him to go. He smiled at the dog, "Thank you for the lovely company."

Martin turned away from the dog and opened the door. He took a step forward when something sped past him. Horror hit him when he looked after it only to see the tip of a tail disappear around a corner. Shit.

Martin rushed through the hall, trying to spot the dog again. It took a few turns before Martin had to admit he had lost sight of them. Still, he dashed down the corridor. A familiar name on a door plate stopped him in his tracks. He pushed past the slightly ajar door, "Jon?"

Jon blinked up from the paper he was grading in surprise, "Martin? What're you doing here? Not that I mind, it's just-"

"A surprise, I know." Martin placed the box he'd carried in down on a free chair and span to scan the room, "Uh, love, you haven't seen a dog have you?"

"Er, in general?" Jon frowned.

Affection and amusement grew in his chest and Martin shook his head with a disbelieving laugh, "No, no. In the school."

"Martin," Jon said evenly as he stood, "why would there be a dog in the school?"

"I may have been making friends, as you do when you see a friendly pup, y'know. And my hands were full, after I opened the door and apparently the dog was waiting for that." Martin explained, hands waving about, "They rushed in and I followed as fast as I could but I lost them and then I saw your office and now I'm here."

"Right, er, I'll call security and alert them to the situation." Jon must've seen the worry scrunch Martin's features because he continued with, "As long as the dog doesn't hurt anyone, they won't do any harm to them, okay?"

Martin nodded, anxiously playing with his fingers as Jon made the call. Jon hung up the phone and headed to the door, "C'mon, dearest, let's go find your new friend." 

***

Like the Scooby gang, Jon and Martin had taken different directions to cover more ground and look for clues.

Soft whimpers of puppies drew Martin's ear. He slowed as he approached the desk it was coming from. A growl stopped him in his tracks. He raised his hands and took a slow step back. The growling paused. Martin took a deep breath, voice gentle, "Hi girl, I think you and I made friends outside. I promise I'm not going to hurt you or your babies."

There were more puppy noises from under the desk. They sounded like newborns. Martin very smartly held back the adoring noise he wanted to make. He took a few more steady, slow steps back and cautiously and glacially settled onto the ground. He made sure the mother could see his motions the entire time. She watched him warily from beneath the desk. Definitely the dog he'd seen earlier.

Martin wondered who's desk she'd had her puppies under. They weren't quite newborn, already cleaned up by their mother. There weren't many puppies, just three, but they clambered unsteadily about their mother enough for twice their number. He couldn't help a small smile. They were adorable.

"It'll be okay," Martin promised, "I'll make sure no one hurts you or them, ma'am."

She huffed at him, tucking one of the pups under her chin. He let out a little chuckle. One of the other ones - the one who'd been nibbling at the mother's tail - tottered their way out from under the desk. She watched them carefully. The little one stumbled closer to Martin. The mother growled a warning. Whether it was at Martin or the pup, he wasn't sure. He made soft assurances that he wasn't going to touch or hurt the pup, hands visible to her.

The pup looked back at their mother and took a step closer to Martin, clearly testing their limits. There was another warning noise. The puppy's tail wagged, ears shifting in mischief. They leant down, tail going wild, ready to pounce. Their mother shifted. The little one's tail wagged somehow even harder. It unbalanced the pup, causing them to tumble into Martin's leg. The growl the mother let out made Martin still even further. The brave puppy yipped in annoyance, scrambling to put their feet under them again. 

The mother huffed and barked. Once. The puppy whined, ears back. They looked up at Martin then back to their mother. The puppy turned and defiantly sniffed Martin then turned about face and strode proudly back to their mother. She grumbled at them and they yipped up at her with the cutest puppy grin.

Martin turned towards a noise he heard in the hall. Seeing no one, he turned to see all three puppies making their way towards him. He froze again, their mother's watchful gaze on him. It felt like an eternity before they reached the point she'd growled the first time. She growled this time as well. The two less reckless pups looked over at their mother whilst the bravest just continued toward Martin. She barked when the courageous one got yet closer.

Before Martin knew it, the pup was climbing atop his ankle. The mother stood. She was soon just in front of Martin, her other two pups behind her front legs. She sniffed him carefully, wary of any sudden movement from him as her most reckless pup squirmed their way into his lap. He didn't move, just focusing on breathing and not provoking her. She canted her head and sniffed him again. Did she remember him from before? 

Martin watched, still as he could with his hands held up as they were and a squirming pup clambering atop him. The mother huffed and sat in front of him. The two other pups slinked around her, sniffing curiously in his direction. He continued to make no moves other than his breathing and blinking, even when the puppy stepped on an uncomfortable part. It wasn't long before the courageous one's siblings started climbing him too. Their mother watched this all happen but didn't move to stop them again. She let out a sigh and rested her head on her front paws, beholding the scene before her.

Over the course of the next few minutes, Martin slowly lowered his arms. His movements were tiny and cautious. Eventually, though, he was able to rest his arms. The mother didn't show any signs of aggression as her pups pounced and clambered and gnawed on him. Not that he particularly minded all that much either. They were cute and energetic and he'd always loved dogs.

***

Martin looked up from playing with the puppies as noise from the hall drew closer. The mother sat up, ears alert. They watched the doorway together. A familiar man in a familiar wheelchair paused within the doorway. A smile lit each of their faces.

"There you are." Jon said, voice soft.

Martin kept his voice calm and an eye on the mother, "I found the dogs."

"Plural, I see." Jon said.

The mother grumbled and stood. Jon and Martin froze. The puppies squirmed in Martin's lap, curious about the newcomer. The mother stepped cautiously forward, sniffing in Jon's direction suspiciously. After a few, tense moments of investigation, Jon cleared the mother's check as well.

"Ma'am," Martin addressed as gently as he could, "we need to get you out of this building. And make sure your babies are healthy."

She looked at him for a long moment. He couldn't help but wonder how much she understood. She huffed then bowed before standing at her full height. She looked at Martin and then the door. He nodded and carefully scooped up the puppies. Soon, he was standing as well. He exchanged a look with Jon.

"I'll lead the way, then." Jon agreed.

The mother was surprisingly composed and strode aside Martin without issue. They eventually made their way out of the school. There was a van with the local animal hospital's name branded on the side and a few security guards. 

Martin paused before they got too close, "Jon?"

"Yes, dearest?" Jon looked up at him.

"I, uh," Martin readjusted his hold of the squirming pups, "I want to keep them? But my flat doesn't allow pets and I really don't want them to get separated. And they're so cute and sweet and I think I love them? But I can't keep them at mine so I was hoping you'd be willing to house them? I'd train them and feed them and walk them and everything. And I know if we give them up, they'll be adopted separately and never see one another again and-"

"Do you plan to take trips across town every day, multiple times a day to do all that?" Jon asked.

"Yes." Martin's answer held no hesitation. 

Jon laughed softly and shook his head, "Then you should just move in."

The statement threw a wrench into Martin's thoughts, properly stopping them in their tracks. Surely Jon was joking. Yeah, they'd said they loved each other but to move in so soon? That was a little fast wasn't it?

"Just for the sake of the environment and your wallet, of course." Jon said. And oh, was he blushing beautifully. 

"Y-yeah. Okay. Yes." Martin nodded then laughed, "My lease was about due anyway. Yes. Let's do that."

Jon smiled softly, "Okay. We will."

Chapter Text

"I've come up with first names for them, but they should have a last name too, shouldn't they?" Martin asked. He shifted in the uncomfortable chair the animal hospital and shelter provided.

"Well, they're your dogs." Jon shrugged. 

"Technically they're our dogs, are they not, love?" Martin frowned.

Jon huffed a laugh, "Yes, I suppose so. Not that I'd have ever adopted a dog on my own."

"Fair enough." Martin nodded. Heat rose to his ears and he swallowed, "Um, how about Simswood?"

Jon looked at his hands, the whispers of a surprised smile on his features, "It is certainly easier to say than our last names hyphenated. So, yes, let's go with that."

"And it's not like it'll be used often." Martin reasoned, "It's just for completionist's sake, after all."

"Right, of course." Jon nodded.

"I'll just fill these forms now." A nervous energy in Martin's veins lettings itself be known via a chuckle.

"I can help if you need?" Jon offered.

Martin paused then separated the stack in half, passing one part to Jon, "I think the only real thing on there you might not know already is the first names I'll be giving them. Though… I suppose, you could name some of them if you want. Them being your dogs too."

"Ah, no, I think I'll leave that particular responsibility up to you." Jon answered. He offered a soft yet teasing smile, "You seem most excited about it after all."

"Well, it's just I thought of a theme." Martin chuckled, his face warm.

"Oh?" Jon asked, beginning to fill out the paperwork, "Are you going to name them all after baked goods?"

"Heh, no, though that's not a bad idea. Um, I'm going to name the mum Della." Martin said. 

"Della?" Jon hummed, wheels turning. The scratch of his pen against the cardboard bound paper stopped. He sighed, albeit fondly, "Martin. I suppose we'll have to see about getting the pups blue, red and green collars?"

Martin laughed, "Got it in one, darling."

Jon shook his head, a smile twisting his lips, "I love you."

***

Martin opened the door for Jon, careful not to jostle the carrier with the puppies in it. Della sniffed about the front entrance, ears up and curious. Martin kept an eye on her as his boyfriend wheeled inside. 

"Oh, good lord." Jon uttered.

"Well hello to you too, Jon." An unfamiliar feminine voice answered.

Sasha chimed in, "I needed help setting up the puppy pen."

Jon sighed, "Yes, hello Georgie. Thank you both for helping, I suppose."

Martin looked over in surprise at the name of Jon's ex. An unfamiliar woman stood next to Sasha, hands on her hips. Georgie presumably. He pushed down a particularly green feeling, gently pulled on Della's leash and stepped inside, "C'mon Della."

She followed him inside easily enough. He carefully closed the door and suddenly found three pairs of eyes on him. He swallowed, "Um, hi. I'm Martin."

Georgie worked her way around the puppy pen and offered him her hand, "Georgie, nice to finally meet you, Martin."

"Nice to meet you too." Martin offered a polite smile and shook her hand whilst his insides churned. It wasn't that she seemed like a bad person or anything, just that he hadn't expected to meet her and well, she was Jon's ex.

Georgie turned her attention to Della, slowly offering her closed fist to the dog. Della was pressed into Martin's leg but cautiously sniffed. Georgie kept her voice light and calm, "Hello there, aren't you lovely?"

"You really came over just to pet the dogs, didn't you?" Jon scoffed.

"Well, it's important I get to know them to some extent to help The Admiral get accustom to their scents, isn't it?" She shot back, gently stroking Della's coat when Della allowed her.

"They won't be introduced for several weeks, if not months. They should be allowed to get fairly settled beforehand, shouldn't they?" Jon argued.

"To some extent, but especially for the puppies, they should learn that his scent is familiar and expected so they at the very least won't be territorial when he visits." Georgie said, taking a slow step back.

"Let's go, Della." Martin led Della towards the pen, allowing her to sniff here and there as they went. He half listened to their debate and nodded thanks when Sasha opened the pen's gate.

Once inside, Martin set the carrier gently on the pee pad covered floor and sat cross-legged. He unclipped the leash from Della when Sasha closed the gate back. Della investigated the floor before pressing her nose to the carrier's mesh. The triplets made adorable attempts at barks. Careful and slow, Martin unzipped the mesh from the rest of the carrier.

Huey, Dewey and Louie stumbled out and into their mum. She made a little noise of surprise before settling into a rest and pulling one of her sons close for a bath. He was pretty sure that was Louie, based on his coat's pattern. The other two all but fell forward as they tried walking around. The vets had told them that was normal for newborns but Martin was going to keep note of it anyway.

For today, though, it was time to let them get accustomed to their new home and Martin and Jon. Then came training.

***

Martin ended up sleeping on the couch. Not because of any row or anything, but someone had to be near the dogs in case they needed something. He ended up woken up once by Della needing a walk. She had seemed relatively comfortable leaving the triplets in the pen and Martin counted that as a win.

After another few hours of sleep, Martin found himself waking before the sun with the sound of puppy snoring tethering him to the conscious world. With a glance, he found all four fast asleep and curled up together. A smile spread on his lips as he took in the very ideal of cozy and cute. He wondered if one day he'd get to awake in bed with both dog and partner curled up with him. That'd be nice. Though, they'd probably need a bigger bed.

Martin gasped softly as it struck him. He lived with Jon now. They'd adopted dogs together. His insides filled with squirming worms of fear and caterpillars of excitement. He lived with Jon now. His heart thumped heavily in his chest and his cheeks burned. It wouldn't always be easy, he knew and expected that, but he couldn't help but hope they'd make it long term. He wanted to.

Memories of Jon's smiles and the soft way he uttered the words "I love you" surged to the forefront of Martin's mind. He covered his face with a small squeak. The reality of those things made him feel, rather pleasantly, like he was going to explode.

He'd never felt this happy and loved in a relationship before. 

And oh, that was a dangerous fact, wasn't it? If this failed, if they failed, what would that do to Martin's scarred and sore heart?

The relationship wasn't his whole world or life, of course. Not only was he nearing thirty, but he had scars proving how dangerous that was. How unhealthy. He knew better. And besides, they were both professional adults. They had lives and relationships separately built, even if there was a surprising amount of overlap here and there.

He would survive a breakup with Jon. It would hurt, of course, but he'd survive. It would be a bit more trouble, what with the dogs, but he'd manage. He always had.

Martin shook the thoughts from his mind. It was reassuring to know he would manage if it happened, but he wasn't going to assume them breaking up was a given. He was in for the long haul and Jon had told him he was as well. There would be some stumbling, of course there would, but that was true for any type of relationship. This would be no different.

Martin's bladder interrupted his introspection.