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“But I thought you and Sasha—” Martin starts as soon as Tim leans back and he has the chance to.
“And you’d be right about that,” Tim says simply before diving back in, capturing Martin’s lips in another kiss.
Martin’s hands wander to Tim’s chest and he’s about to push him away, he swears, because this is important. He doesn’t want to be responsible for Tim cheating on Sasha with the sole purpose of making Jon jealous, which is, in and of itself, ridiculous. But somehow, Martin’s hands don’t do all that much pushing away and rather a lot more of grasping desperately at Tim’s shirt. And god, now Tim is nipping on Martin’s bottom lip and dragging it with his teeth, just a little. Martin makes a sound dangerously close to a whimper.
Eventually, he manages to form one hand into a fist and more or less boxes Tim away from him. It takes some serious effort.
“Tim,” Martin gasps. “What about Sasha?”
“Relax,” Tim says. How he’s still looking so nonchalant and put together is beyond Martin. He’s absolutely certain he looks ridiculously flushed and frazzled himself.
“Sasha knows. She doesn’t mind.”
“She—what?” Martin blinks.
Tim shuffles closer to Martin again, wrapping his arms loosely around his waist. Martin shivers a little. “Sasha and I aren’t exclusive. She keeps teasing me about you, actually.”
“Teasing you about me?” Martin echoes, uncomprehending.
“Christ, Martin, sometimes you’re just—” but Tim doesn’t finish his sentence, instead just shakes his head, expression fond. He tugs Martin a bit closer. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”
“Try to see how far you can go right under Jon’s nose until he kicks you out of the Archives?”
Tim rolls his eyes. “Snog you, you plank!” He laughs.
Martin goes bright red. “Oh.”
“But I’ll let you know that Jon’s been staring at us unmoving for like five minutes now. I think he actually forgot what he was about to do.”
“Yeah, right,” Martin mumbles. His back is turned to where Jon was when Tim ambushed him so he can’t see him. But he doubts that Tim’s silly idea of making Jon jealous by snogging right in front of him actually has any effect.
“No, no look!” And with that Tim twirls them around, pretty much latches onto Martin’s neck and pushes him back against one of the bookshelves.
Martin makes an unattractive startled noise and it’s only thanks to the shelf that he doesn’t stumble and fall. His new position does, however, actually reveal Jon standing not too far from where he was when Martin last saw him, except that now he’s staring at them, just like Tim said. He has a (hopefully) empty mug dangling from his left pinky, a sheaf of statements hugged tightly to his chest and seems to be frozen in place.
“See,” Tim hums against Martin’s neck, making him inhale sharply. And that’s the exact moment Martin and Jon’s eyes meet.
Martin has no idea what his face is doing, he only knows that he’s breathing heavily and he can feel the blush high in his cheeks. Jon can obviously also see the way he’s clutching at Tim’s back. Hell, maybe he can even tell that Martin’s knees are buckling.
They just stare at each other for what feels like minutes but realistically probably only lasts a few seconds. Jon opens his mouth as if to call out to them, then snaps it back shut and Martin can actually see his jaw muscles tense.
“I think he’s blushing,” Tim says, lips still against the pale skin of Martin’s neck where he’s sure a brilliantly purple hickey is already starting to bloom.
“Jon doesn’t blush,” Martin says faintly just as Jon finally wrenches his eyes away and turns around abruptly, mug knocking against the side of a shelf.
“Then we obviously need to try harder.”
Tim moves up from Martin’s neck, leaving behind a trail of butterfly kisses until he reclaims Martin’s lips enthusiastically. Martin sighs against Tim’s mouth and opens up for him easily, melting into the kiss. He unclenches his hands slowly, sliding one to the small of Tim’s back and the other up to his shoulder, grounding himself.
Tim shifts a little, repositioning his feet subtly so they fit together almost perfectly. They’re close to the same height but Tim’s legs go on forever and so his sharp hip bones rest against Martin’s belly. Martin moves his hand from Tim’s back to his side and rubs his thumb over the pointy bone. Tim hums appreciatively, presses in a little more, his thigh slips in between Martin’s legs.
Martin jumps, dislodging Tim, an embarrassing noise not unlike a squeak escaping him. “S-Sorry!” His face is on fire.
Tim chuckles, eases away to give Martin a little room to breathe. “So, is he blushing now?”
Martin glances over Tim’s shoulder. Jon is nowhere to be seen. “He’s gone.”
“Hm, pity,” Tim says. “Guess he couldn’t handle us.” He leans forward, steals another kiss, then steps away entirely with a sigh. “As much as I’d love to continue,” he winks at Martin, making him flush anew, “this is hardly the place, especially now that Jon is gone.” He sniggers. “But,” and now Tim takes Martin’s hand, “you have my number and know where to find me. You can bring Jon, too.” He lifts Martin’s hand and presses his lips to his knuckles. “See ya.”
Martin is left staring after him for a moment, mind still reeling. Eventually, he shakes his head with a soft chuckle. Fucking Tim.
Once Martin has gathered himself enough that he feels able to brave the hall again he slips out of Document Storage and is promptly stopped by a hand on his arm just outside the door.
“Martin?”
He freezes, eyes widening.
“Uh, yeah Jon?”
“I, ah, I witnessed what went down in there and—”
“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” Martin bursts out, mortified. He would have never expected Jon to confront him about something like this. “I know we shouldn’t have—I am so sorry! It won’t happen again, I promise—”
“Martin. Martin, please,” Jon interrupts him, looking supremely uncomfortable. “I, ah, I don’t have any… objections per se as to what you do in your breaks, but I. Listen, can you just come to my office? I’d rather not discuss this in the hall.”
Martin nods, miserably. This whole thing probably did exactly the opposite of what he’d hoped to achieve.
He follows Jon to his office.
“Please, sit,” Jon says stiffly, motioning to the chair opposite his own.
Martin does, feeling like he just got called in for a spontaneous performance review. Or to give a statement. Honestly, he thinks he’d prefer both right now.
“About Tim. You and Tim.” Jon starts, not meeting Martin’s eyes. “I know it’s not really my place but given that you all work here, all work as my assistants, more specifically, I feel it is my obligation to tell you that Tim and Sasha are. An item. And I,” Jon huffs, his eyes flicker up to look at Martin for a mere second before resettling on a spot on his desk. “I just think it would be in the interest of everyone’s… feelings and the Institute's workplace harmony if you were made aware.” Jon sits back in his chair, breathing out long and slow like his little speech cost him considerable strength. It probably did.
“Tim and Sasha aren’t exclusive,” Martin echoes Tim’s words from earlier. “It was his idea actually.”
Jon looks up so fast Martin fears he might have given himself whiplash.
“You knew?”
“Well, not really. He only told me just earlier as well. But uhm, yeah.” Martin shrugs. “He said Sasha teases him about me.”
Jon frowns at him.
Martin shifts in his chair. “Apparently Tim’s wanted to snog me for a while.” He scratches the back of his neck. “But he, uhm, he also knows about my—well, he thought we could make you jealous.” Martin rolls his eyes. “I told him it’s stupid.”
When he looks up again, Jon is clutching yet another empty mug and now Martin gets the impression he’s very carefully avoiding his eyes.
“I, ah, I see.” He only glances very briefly at Martin but it’s enough to make him halt.
“Wait. Did it work?” Martin asks, incredulously.
“No! I mean, did what work?” Jon cringes.
A slow smile spreads over Martin’s face. “I… wow.”
Jon scrubs a hand across his face in defeat, still not meeting Martin’s eyes. “Please just forget any of this ever happened. You can go now.”
“I’d—I’d like to stay for a moment, actually,” Martin says in a fit of bravery. “You were actually jealous?”
Jon groans. “I am…aware of your affections for me, Martin. It’s—it’s very flattering and, well, I’ve gotten used to it. It’s nice. Feeling wanted.”
Martin listens with bated breath, literally on the edge of his seat. There is just no way this is actually happening.
“So yes,” Jon continues, “when I saw you with Tim it was—,” he struggles for words.
“You were jealous,” Martin fills in, slightly breathless.
Martin’s pretty sure Jon actually grits his teeth in frustration. “Yes.”
“Wow.”
“No need to rub it in.”
Martin can’t help the grin on his face. “Why didn’t you say anything? If you knew about me?”
Jon fiddles with a pencil on his desk. “I, ah… it’s… I don’t have a great track record when it comes to… to dating and relationships. Plus, I’m technically your boss.”
“Would you,” Martin hesitates, choosing his words carefully, “Would you like to maybe talk about that over dinner at my place?”
Jon’s eyes finally meet Martin’s again. Martin’s heart beats all the way up in his throat.
“You know, I think I’d like that. I’d like that a lot, Martin.”