Work Text:
Martin liked music. He didn't really mind what he listened to and tried a bit of everything; meaning his playlists could scatter from indie rock to opera. One thing he didn't expect to like was steampunk, but he did.
He found this one band called The Mechanisms. They took old mythos and known stories and turned them into something else, but were still recognisable from the source material . It combined three of Martin's favorite things: myths, legends, and interesting music. Well four if you include the representation - that was also extremely nice.
This band helped him through some of his later years. The music was always there even if the stories never ended happily, they showed that you could continue on, even through the roughest and harshest patches of life.
Then the Magnus Institute happened. Entities, monsters, Sasha... but the music was still there and every few years a new album would pop up.
He never really looked into the band much apart from some pixelated pictures from early in the band's career and the few shaky equally blurry recordings on YouTube from a few of their live performances.
As the new albums came out he listened and enjoyed, but Once upon a time in space would forever hold the highest place on his list of favourites. It could have been the fact that that was the first album he listened to, or that he read the fairy tales avidly growing up. Either way it was his personal favourite and he had listened to it so often he knew the songs like the back of his hand.
Martin had been at the institute for just over 4 years now - specifically in the archives for about 3. Jon was being less critical and more open with the team and overall things were -- okay. If you didn't look at, well... everything else.
It was yet another Wednesday morning as ordinary as things could be for when you worked for a creepy eldritch entity boss, researching other eldritch godlike aligned things. Martin and Tim were in before Jon, which wasn't rare. Those days were usually accompanied by a more tired looking Jon than usual.
So when Jon strolled in the archives holding a travel mug of tea, and being surprisingly awake compared to other times and to put it simply yelled,
"HELLO LADIES!!" followed by equally maniacal laughter.
Silence. Then he went as stiff as a board, wide eyed, realising what he had just done. He sprinted into his office and closed the door.
"Well I was just gonna stay good morning but that works." Tim slid off the spare desk he'd been sitting on and went to his computer to try and do some work.
Martin, however, was still processing. That sounded the exact same to Jonny D'ville in the second half of Sleeping beauty…. It could have been a really good impression but still not that many people listened to The Mechs.
"Noooooo - no way…" Martin bolted to his desk and typed in The Mechanisms into Google and clicked on the new website, he really hadn't looked into the band for a good 2 years.
"Whats up Martman?" Tim peered over.
"Just- just checking something out don't worry,” he smiled over the top of the desktop.
"Coolio." Tim did his classic finger guns and carried on working.
On the other hand, Martin wasn’t ‘coolio’ because the picture on his screen staring at him was his boss.
Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of The Magnus Institute London, as Jonny D'Ville. Captain First mate of the Aurora, space pirate, and general bastard. With excessive amounts of belts, a flintlock pistol, and black lines webbed across his face, staring back.
Martin was not okay. He didn't know what to do with this information. All his mind could think was: this is my boss and this is one of my longest band interests and it’s MY BOSS AND MY CRUSH! OOOHHHHH FUCK FUCK!
So he distracted himself doing work, or tried to. Eventually he gave up, as the nagging thought wouldn’t go away. So instead, he went and made tea for all of them.
The methodical actions of tea making always helped to calm him down somewhat. Jon’s black and white mandala patterned mug, Tims rainbow mug, and his own patchwork mug were picked from the cupboard above the kettle whilst the water began to boil.
Tea leaves and strainers. Earl Grey for Jon, English breakfast for himself and Tim. He waited over the roaring of the kettles for the - Click. Perfect. Jon’s first then working down the line. Wait 3-4 minutes. Remove the tea. Start with his first then Jon's last, as he liked it a bit stronger. Add milk to his and Tim's, sugar to Tim's and Jon's. Some cold water to Jon's as he drank it black. Finished.
He carried his and Tim’s to the desks and handed it over.
"Cheers mate, life saver." Tim reached over and took it carefully lest it spill onto the papers below.
"No problem," he smiled as he placed his own mug on his desk and returned to the kitchenette to get Jon's. Earl Grey - a smell Martin had now ended up associating with Jon no matter the occasion.
He padded across toward Jon's office keeping a close eye on the tea. Knocked twice on the door and waited.
"Come in Martin." Jon’s voice echoed.
Entering, he made sure to shut the door behind. Rounding the corner, Jon sat with his chin on his knee, the other under him somehow still on the chair.
"Thank you Martin," he grinned, taking the tea and shuffling some papers out the way,
Martin monologo was still screaming but lesser, so when he said--
"No problem First mate."
And Jon absently replied, "Captain, thank you"
A staring match ensued of unmeasured awkwardness.
Jon broke the silence, "Ermmm -- right -- the band."
"The Mechanisms," Martin interrupted,
"Yep them h-how long have you known about that?"
"Of the band? About 7 years..."
"Oh right... blimey…" Jon rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Martin's eyes.
"But I only twigged that it was you this morning. Once upon a time in space is one of my favourites, and that phrase lives in my head - no quarrels," Martin added quickly, making Jon visibly relax.
"It is a good one! We're working in a Norse one at the moment it's turning out really good- sorry I'm rambling"
"No, no it's fine," Martin was beaming, "but seriously, you are Jonny D'Ville?"
"The very same," he tried to do a mock bow sitting down, but only succeeded in losing balance and almost falling sideways,
"You good there?" Martin asked, attempting to hold in his fit of laughter.
"Yep I'm fine," he giggled. "The concert last night is starting to hit - happens sometimes."
"What'd you perform?" The answer to that question was met with Jon’s raised eyebrow, "Once upon a time in space. Yer that that would make sense…" he chuckled
"I'll speak to you later Jon." he started to make his way out
"Thank you Martin."
"For what?"
"Just-- thank you." Jon smiled fondly and Martin shared the same before leaving.
Martin knew when he went to collect the mug later, Jon would be asleep at his desk, snoring lightly, with the statements all perfectly fine to one side. He would go get the blanket thrown over one of the spare chairs and put it on his shoulders. Jon would hardly stur apart from murmuring something that sounded suspiciously like an “I love you”. Martin would freeze and place a soft kiss on top of Jon’s grey streaked hair and leave just as silently as he came in.
Jon would wake up and know who had given him the blanket, who had checked on him, who had taken the mug - and would smile and thank Martin once again.