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“Are you sure you want to be with me?” Jon asks with a strained voice, as if he’d been planning on saying something but could barely get the words out until just now, when they rushed out all at once.
Martin blinks, and drops the bag of groceries he’d just brought in on the counter a little faster than he was expecting. “...what?” He thought that going through an apocalypse and choosing to get a new start on life together would have been enough to solidify that. “I’m not offended or anything, just. What?”
“Um, sorry, I just— that was bad phrasing. I just.. haven’t been human in a long time. Are you sure you want that? Someone who’s not even human?” Jon looks deeply into his half-empty mug of tea balanced in his lap. “I’m not sure how far back it goes, but for the last, what, year or so... my humanity isn’t really something I’ve had the best grasp on. The Eye may not have much control of me anymore, it’s just me now ...and whatever leftover power that got distributed across the multiverse got into this one... but it still feels weird attaching the idea of humanity to myself.”
Martin abandons the groceries, and takes a seat close to Jon on the couch, putting the cup of tea on the coffee table to avoid spillage. “What do you think matters more to me, the love of my life being human, or being the determined, loving, capable, trustworthy person he is?”
“You know I know you know what the answer to that is,” Jon grumbles.
“Yeah but I want to hear it in your words.”
Jon takes a moment. A sigh is pushed from his lungs. Nowadays it seems like every breath and movement is a struggle against the idea that he is not worth it, that he is beyond growth, the fact that he has been shaped by horrible things beyond his comprehension. The last part he was starting to come to terms with, but he feared that in the process of being molded and carved and formed, the firing in the oven had hardened him into something whose only other form would be shattered pieces.
“You believe that I... am more than my humanity,” he finally says, eyes closed. Martin hums in agreement. “And that.. you care more about me than what I am.”
Martin presses a kiss to the side of Jon’s head, and Jon smiles tiredly. “Exactly it. I love you for who you are, not what you are. I also love you for your humor, your determination, your care for other people, your excellent omelettes, and many, many more things.
Yeah you couldn’t control why things are like this, but in all honestly, being human wasn’t ever one of the things that made me love you. You’re a person who I love, and that’s good enough for— Jon?”
Martin leans forwards at the sound of the sniffing, and sees that his boyfriend’s eyes have reddened and there’s tears stuck in his eyelashes. “Oh— shit, here you go love.” He reaches over momentarily and grabs a few tissues, then brings them to Jon’s hands, curled up to his chest. At the same time, Jon brings his legs up and leans into Martin, who wraps his arms further around him as he clears his nose and eyes. Mumblings of “you’re okay, I know it’s hard” are said so quietly that no one else except them can hear.
“How did I ever deserve you?” his voice is quiet and warbling, and clutches at Martin’s shirt.
“I think all of us deserve some love, but uh.. that’s another conversation I think,” Martin says with a small laugh that Jon echoes.
He grabs Martin’s hand then, holding it tight between them, and partially interlacing his bony fingers between Martin’s larger ones. He inhales, holding it in for a few seconds as if balancing himself, then lets it go in a steady breath. A kiss is pressed to the back of Martin’s hand.
“Thank you.”