Work Text:
Jon is nestled in a mountain of covers in his bed. The concept of home blurs as he spends more and more nights at the archives. But cozy would be a good descriptor for how he feels in this moment with the promise of company and drifting into a restless sleep. He’s pulled up Martin’s channel on his phone to find something newly posted, just a few hours ago. The stop frame is of Martin with his hands in someone’s hair. This is new. Martin’s never hasn’t had other people in his videos thus far. Jon squints because this person is familiar and he doesn’t want them to be. As if upon closer inspection he might find that it was an entirely different person. He clicks the link.
Martin is standing above a woman with shoulder length hair dyed a purple ombre. Her sharp features contrast with her heart shaped face.
"Hi lovelies,” Martin smiles and gives a little wave to the camera. “Today I have a very special guest to help me out--a crossover episode of sorts. I’m joined by internet sensation, host of the Ghost Hunt UK series, Melanie King.” Melanie is smiling. Jon's not sure he's seen her do that before outside of her program. She dons a conspiratorial smirk and a welcoming wave at the camera.
“Hi all, glad to be back after my hiatus. Sadly, Ghost Hunt UK will not have a new episode quite yet, but I missed you all. Thought I’d show my face, let you know I’m still alive.”
“You’re in for a bit of a different experience today.” Martin says ruefully
“A free massage; how ever will I manage.”
“Fair enough” Martin chuckles “Shall we get to it then?”
Melanie gives the go ahead and Martin starts bundling her hair into a pony tale behind her head.
“I begin my massages by warming the other person up.” Martin narrates for the benefit of Melanie and the viewers. “Some light touches not only help activate the capillaries in the skin, but they also allow one to become accustomed to touch.
Martin starts plucking slowly at the sides of Melanie’s face, feather light with his fingertips. Her eyes flutter shut as he does so. Jon’s eyes however are glued to where Martin’s hands connect with her face. Jon feels the blood rising to his cheeks, his head is thrumming. Jealous , Jon’s mind provides. Jon plucks the word out of existence and throws it in the bin. Jealousy is an absurd thing to be feeling and will not be humored.
Martin runs the backs of his fingers along Melanie’s cheeks, following the curve of her jaw. The same woman trying to burn down the archives and kill his boss sighs into the touch. Her body melts further into the chair. “That feels great.”
“Thanks Melanie” Martin replies warm and preening.
The disconnect between their high tension work environment and this fantasy world of relaxation leaves Jon reeling. That and witnessing Martin showering tenderness on someone real. Not a dog or a dish or a notebook but someone Jon knows. (Someone that could be him.)
“I’m going to use some tools if that’s alright with you.” Martin explains. Melanie nods minutely in the affirmative.
Martin pulls out a series of makeup brushes and shows the array to Melanie. “Pick two” he prompts. She points to a big fluffy brush and a medium sized brush with a beveled edge.
Martin starts with the fluffy brush. He strokes her face in long streaks as if he’s painting her skin. One stroke from the side of her forehead across, another that sweeps from her eye to her jaw. Melanie relaxes visibly, her features gone pliant. “You could do this professionally. Good god where did you even learn this?” she comments at a normal volume. Which is far too loud for the sensitive settings of the mic.
Martin snickers and hushes her fondly.
"Sorry" Melanie corrects in a stage whisper.
Then Martin is taking the smaller brush, picking places on her face wherever he fancies to brush on the details of her face. Small strokes around her eyebrows, light streaks from the bridge of her nose down to the tip. One comes dangerously close to her lips, caressing the laugh lines of her smile, the cliff of her bottom lip. The tip sweeps right at the corner of her mouth.
Jon thinks obliquely that he is a very skilled consumer of ASMR because he can feel the brush ghosting over his own lips. Martin traces the line of Melanie’s jaw, her face tilting ever so slightly. Jon notices how tightly his own hands clutch the sides of his phone and he purposefully loosens his grip. The issue, that he thinks he can finally admit, at least to himself, is that Jon wants . He’s being irrational and he wants to be Melanie in Martin’s caring hands.
At the end of the video, Martin finishes by tracing his fingers over her face, center to sides, cheeks to jaw. The yearning does not subside. Melanie looks like she’s found her happy place. Jon can’t blame her.
***
They’re sitting at lunch in the break room when Jon finds the courage to confront Martin.
Or rather, dance around what he would like to say.
Ever since Jon returned the tupper from the first meal, Martin had been encouraged to continue feeding him. Jon is reminded of his grandmother scolding him for feeding the stray cats. “They’ll only come back for more” she would chide. And yet Jon was forever enamored when he would return to see an empty bowl or better yet, witness one of the furballs chomping away at the food he left.
Jon still sometimes says no to the proffered meals, but sometimes he says yes. And as awkward as it was--is--at times, he likes getting to know Martin. They’re growing into the comfort of chatter as well as silence.
"I don’t think I’ve ever asked you about your ‘hobbies’" Jon says gesticulating with the fork in his hand. He drags the word hobbies like it’s left a bad aftertaste. “Aside from the poetry.”
"The poetry is a big one… I dabble in recording sometimes, among other things." Martin mumbles so muffled that the last of his statement is inaudible.
“Recording your poetry?” Jon prompts.
“Yeah, sometimes. I also make these.. Ah, I’m not sure why I’m feeling embarrassed about it.”
Jon waits holding himself still and attentive.
"Have you heard of ASMR?"
"It's... a sensory response, right? To relaxing stimulus?" Jon says slowly, trying to sound unsure. "Georgie has mentioned a thing or two about it in passing."
Martin coughs hiding his face in the crook of his elbow.
"Pardon, ‘scuse me.” he says, clearing his throat. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. It can help people sleep or give them a tickling feeling at the back of their neck... At any rate, I make ASMR videos.”
Jon nods. How do people act when hearing new information? Hopefully something like he’s doing now.
“It’s nice, knowing I might be helping someone?” Martin continues “I’ve gotten a lot of positive feedback from some of the people who watch"
"I… could see you being skilled at that. You're very thoughtful of others." Jon says, picking at the baked parsnip on his plate.
"W...well, thanks Jon" Martin says. When Jon sneaks a glance, Martin’s cheeks are tinged pink.
They sit there looking at their food a moment. Jon isn’t sure how to proceed from here. He wishes he could take the social leap of asking to participate in a video. But even to his ears that sounds like a blunt transition. A bit much risk for his taste.
Better to try a more open approach. "As someone that has trouble sleeping, I'm intrigued by the idea. I'll have to do some research on the subject."
"You could… Erm. I mean, I don’t know if it at all interests you. But, I'm making a video this week. Was going to ask Melanie to help me out--I need someone with long hair." Martin speaks in a rush and then, seeming to catch himself, slows down. "If you want to see what it's all about, maybe you'd want to be in a video?"
"That does sound interesting. If a little nerve wracking," Jon admits.
“Maybe we can sketch out some ideas. And if you end up hating it, I won’t post it. That simple.”
After a courtesy moment of consideration Jon extends his hand. “Deal” he offers.
“Deal” Martin agrees with a genuine brightness in his expression that Jon can’t look at directly for too long.
***
Martin fiddles with some of the settings on the camera. The lights behind the setup are more glaring than Jon expected. They remind him of stage lights. Soon a red pinprick near the lens turns on. Martin walks back behind Jon placing a hand on his shoulder. "Is this okay?" He checks.
Jon's shoulder is radiating with the contact. It's a bright and nervous energy churning under his skin. He nods in affirmative.
"Ok. I'll start then. Just do whatever feels natural."
Jon nods again.
"Hi there lovelies," Martin says sweet and soft as always, "due to popular demand, I have another guest with me today. This is Jon and we're going to be doing some hair brushing and braiding."
Jon gives a little wave, a tentative smile into the bright eye of the camera.
"I'll start with some light touches" Martin narrates, running his finger tips down from Jon's temple to the bun at the back of his head. Jon thinks his grandmother would have liked to know that he had an off button while he was young and in her care. His eyes flutter shut almost immediately, his mind powering down. Jon's manners distantly suggest he should open his eyes again, but Martin keeps bringing his fingers back to his hairline, tracing them through his locks.
Jon feels Martin plucking at something near the back of his head before Jon's hair falls in one thick layer down his neck.
A questioning hand is placed on his shoulder again. "Would you hold onto this for me please, Jon?" He opens his eyes, and sees Martin's hand extended, palm up with a hair tie placed in it.
Jon takes it, scooping the tie towards him with two fingers. Martin's hand twitches minutely when they touch, before moving back to carding in Jon's loose hair.
“I don’t have a brush with me, but it doesn't look like you have too many knots.” Martin speaks to the side of Jon where one of the microphones is set up decently close to his ear. Jon knows Martin is speaking into the mic for the benefit of the viewers. It makes him suppress a shiver all the same, hearing him so close. Much closer than they’ve ever had an excuse to be talking before. "I’ll finger comb it to be sure." Martin adds.
He begins at the back of Jon's head, scratching firmly and pulling through thick swaths of hair. Jon wishes he had worn a shirt with a wider neck so he could feel the tendrils falling back onto his shoulders. But Martin is repeating the motion, sinking his fingers into Jon’s scalp and there isn’t much room for thoughts while that's happening. Jon doesn't fight the urge to lean his head back into the contact.
It continues on for what feels like ages and not at all long enough. It keeps going until Martin can rake through the strands without any snags.
“I know fishtail and french, which would you prefer?” Martin offers. His ASMR voice all the more devastating in person.
“Fishtail would be nice I think.” He says doing his best to emulating the soft lilt.
“Ooh Jon. I should have guessed earlier," Martin replies bemused. "You’re a natural at this. My fans are going to want you as a repeat customer with that voice.”
Jon hums proud and embarrassed at the complement. He closes his eyes again as Martin starts his fingers separating plaits at the top of his head. A pinkie cards against his scalp scooping new locks into the braid.
Left, twist, tug, right, twist, tug.
Martin is making little noises to himself, or maybe for the mics, as he separates indecisive strands. Jon feels him readjust locks from one hand to the next. Jon focuses in on all these little details. He wants to be present. He wants to remember what it's like to let someone (Martin) look after him.
But somewhere between “almost”s and “you stay there”s and “just a bit to the side”s Jon’s mind slips--dutifully trained as it is.
***
“Juuuust a bit to the… “ Martin peers at a lock of hair that refuses to lay flat as his two free fingers coax it from one side to the other. Jon takes an odd inhale.
“Sorry, did I pull something?” Martin asks apologetic but ever quiet. He waits for Jon to respond.
Nothing.
“Jon? Did that hur--”
“SnRkkK” comes the reply. Jon snores wheezy and unattractive. Well, that’s a bit of a lie isn’t it. Because Martin thinks this is maybe the cutest Jon has ever been. With his mouth lolling, unguarded and asleep in Martin’s hands.
This does pose an unexpected dilemma: Martin has no idea how to proceed from here.
He doesn’t want to wake Jon with how little sleep he gets already. But it is a bit odd to just, keep going right? None of the tape after this will be usable regardless. Even if Jon consented to him sharing it, the bald-faced adoration at seeing Jon snore was far too incriminating. He can’t very well leave his boss sleeping in the conference room either, even if it is after work hours. He continues to twist new strands of hair into the braid as he thinks. Jon continues to wheeze.
And maybe that's enough of a solution. Couldn’t hurt to let him doze a little while longer, Martin decides. At least until the braid is finished.