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Jon is the most tactile person Tim has ever met. It came as a bit of a surprise to him, because of the general vibe Jon has projected the entire time they’ve known each other, but as they’ve gotten closer, Tim has learned that Jon only allows himself to be like this with people he trusts, and Jon has never trusted many people. Tim feels all warm and fuzzy, knowing he’s one of the few people Jon trusts. So Tim holds Jon, and Jon clings to him like a lifeline. Jon is wrapped around him, with his head resting on Tim’s chest, and Tim is stroking Jon’s hair when a thought strikes him, and he snorts. Jon hums an inquisitive tone.
“Nothing really,” Tim says, “I just realized that this…..” he gestures between them, “Whatever this is. Us. Is the most stable relationship I’ve had in years.” Jon huffs out a half laugh, a little bitter.
“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”
Tim lets that sit in the air for a few minutes, enjoying the calm between them.
“What are we?” he asks, “Are we a couple? Romantically, I mean.”
Jon considers it. “I don’t know, are we?” he replies, lifting his head to look at Tim with a raised eyebrow. Tim pulls Jon up to face him more comfortably.
“Oh no, you’re not turning the question back on me,” Tim says, a little indignant, then, softer, “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t interested.”
Jon has definitely thought about it. He’s thought about how his relationship with Tim really isn’t that different from any other romantic relationship he’s had in his life. The main difference is the lack of kissing (or well, snogging, but Jon hates that word), and going out on dates. Tim is handsome, and kind, and funny, and he’s the only person who makes Jon feel safe, the only person who understands exactly what Jon is going through.
So yes, it’s safe to say Jon is interested.
“I’d like that,” Jon says, shyly, “If you would.”
“Oh, I absolutely would.” Tim waggles his eyebrows at him, a large grin spreading across his face. Jon smiles back at him for a second, before his brain decides to ruin the moment for him.
“I’m asexual,” Jon blurts out. He winces, embarrassed at his own self. He’s never been good at this part. Tim sits up a bit, leaning on his elbow. He looks a little surprised, but not shocked at the sudden change in topic.
“I mean, I figured?” he says. Jon’s brain short circuits.
“You… What?”
Tim gestures to the black ring on Jon’s middle finger. “The ring. That’s an ace thing, right?”
“Oh!” Jon looks down at his hand. “Yes, uh.” Georgie gave it to him, shortly after he figured out he was ace. She was the first person to accept that he didn’t really want sex, and she was integral in helping him discover that there was a word for the way he felt. “I— Sometimes I forget I’m wearing it, and that other people know what it means.” Tim nods.
Jon plows on, unable to stop talking. He hasn’t dated in a long time, since before he got the head archivist position, so he hasn’t had to do the ‘coming out to a potential romantic partner’ spiel in a while. He’s always anxious about it, but with Tim, he’s terrified. Not that he thinks Tim will react badly, but… Every person he’s dated since Georgie lost interest after he came out to them. He knows that, statistically, his asexuality couldn’t have been the reason for all of them, especially when he considered his difficult personality, but the last thing Jon wants is to ruin what he and Tim have now.
“I don’t experience sexual attraction, I never have, and I just want you to know that sex isn’t something I’m interested in, except on very rare occasions. An— and it’s nothing you’ve done, it’s just me. It’s how I am.” He wishes he could blame it on a low libido, but it’s a lot more complicated than that.
Tim is looking at him with such gentleness that he thinks he might cry.
“Jon,” he says, “That is okay. More than okay, really. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”
“I mean— I don’t—“ Jon sighs, “I know that sex is something that you enjoy.”
Tim laughs a little, because now it’s his turn to explain a complicated subject.
“Yeah, sure, I have been known to enjoy casual sex,” an understatement, “But it’s not something I’ve been doing lately.” He sighs, unsure of how to explain it. “After Danny I was just… Numb, for so long, and hooking up with people was an easy way to feel something. It was a coping mechanism, I guess, but it really wasn’t healthy, so I stopped. Not that I stopped hooking up with people completely, but y’know, going on dates with people first and making more genuine connections instead of just… using them. And then Prentiss happened, and well, I haven’t exactly been sleeping with anybody.
“I know what my reputation was in Research. and I first liked you because you were never all judgmental about that. So if you never want to have sex with me, I’m fine with that.”
“Well, I didn’t say never,” Jon mutters. He knows he gives off a ‘never’ kind of vibe, (and he was, for a long time, until he figured out what he likes and how he likes it), but he genuinely enjoys sex, on occasion. Usually the issue is that he’s too much in his own head, thinking too much about the logistics, the vulnerability required, that it’s too much trouble, but it can be different with someone he trusts.
“That didn’t come out right,” Tim says, “I don’t want you to think that you’re a burden, or something. Because you’re not, and I want to give this a go, with you, because you’re you, and I love you.”
Jon stares at Tim, dumbstruck for a moment, because it is such a painfully Tim way to say it, and Jon once again feels like he could cry.
“Thank you,” he says, “I appreciate you saying that. Other people have not taken it well, in the past.”
“Fuck that,” Tim responds, “I’m sorry people were shitty.”
“Guess we’ve got that in common,” Jon says.
“Yeah,” Tim sighs, “Bi ace solidarity?”
Jon nods and leans in closer to Tim. “Kiss me?”
Tim doesn’t need to be asked twice. He’s been thinking about it fairly often for the past few weeks. He presses his lips against Jon’s, gentle and chaste.Jon melts against him. Tim doesn’t want to push things too far, since they haven’t had a real conversation about boundaries, so they just trade soft, sweet kisses for a while. It feels simultaneously novel and intimate, and Tim finds himself thinking that he would be content to stay in this moment forever.
After some time, Jon pulls away, a small grin across his face.
“Alright?” Tim asks gently.
“Very much so,” Jon replies.
“Hey, if we’re dating, is it weird if I still call you boss?” Tim asks, humor back in his voice.
“Only if you’re into that,” Jon deadpans, and Tim laughs that delighted laugh he reserves for when Jon surprises him with a joke.
“Oh Christ,” Jon says, as he thinks about the implications of dating someone who is technically his employee, “HR is gonna be a nightmare about this.”
“I mean… Who says we have to tell them?” Tim says, and Jon stares at him, affronted. “Yes, alright, I’m sure the employee handbook has lots to say on the subject, but this stopped being a normal job the moment we got attacked by a worm lady, so forgive me if I don’t see the point in doing the proper HR paperwork.”
“I suppose you have a point.”
“I genuinely don’t think there’s much we can do at this point that would make Elias fire us. And if he did fire us for dating I would leave a hell of a bad review on GlassDoor.”
Jon smiles. “I don’t think academics really use GlassDoor.”
“Whatever,” Tim shrugs, “I think HR would also have a thing or two to say about me sharing a bed with my boss every night for the past few months.”
Jon’s face goes red at that. “Yes, alright. We won’t tell anyone.”
“I’ll make it up to you. We could go on a real, proper date? Go out to dinner, maybe see a movie?”
“I haven’t been to the cinema in ages,” Jon says, “ ‘Would be nice.”
Tim snickers. “Cinema. Alright, Grandad.”
Jon kisses him again to silence his teasing.