Chapter Text
Martin had gotten used to Jon arriving in the Archives before he’d even woken up, and so it did not surprise him when he pulled open the small curtain on the window in the document storage room door to see that the automatic lights over the main stacks had already flickered on.
He did his cursory check anyway, sweeping his eyes over any visible surfaces he could see to make sure there weren’t any worms lying in wait before he unlocked the door.
All clear, as always.
Martin unlocked the door, and headed out.
He stopped at the bathroom; walked to the breakroom. Jon was there ahead of him, standing by the warming kettle with two mugs on the counter beside him. He turned when Martin entered the room, and… smiled?
“Happy birthday,” Jon said, and Martin blinked in surprise.
Oh. Oh, it was, wasn’t it?
19th June already. Christ, already? It felt like just a few weeks ago he’d been moving into the Archives, but that had been back in March. Three months ago, soon to be four. He wasn’t sure whether to be grateful that Jon had let him stay so long, or appalled that it still felt necessary to hide away from the looming threat of the worms.
Jon was looking at him expectantly, waiting for a response. Martin pulled himself out of his thoughts, and smiled back.
“Oh, uh- thank you!” he said, with only a little faltering.
“Which one is this, then?” Jon asked, with genuine curiosity. He had been doing that more and more, recently, making an active effort to engage with Martin and get to know about his life. It was… nice, Martin felt. Not exactly an apology for how he had treated Martin before, but a tacit promise that he was trying to do better in the future.
It still didn’t change the fact that he was Martin’s boss, though, and so some questions were inevitably awkward.
Twenty-nine, Martin’s brain supplied, and “Thirty-six,” said his mouth.
The kettle clicked off behind Jon, and he turned to pour the water into the waiting mugs. “I’d ask if you have any special plans, but…” he threw over his shoulder.
Martin forced a laugh, finally moving over to the fridge to start making his breakfast. “Yeah, not exactly feasible this year.”
“Next year, then.”
“Right.”
A brief silence descended as Martin toasted a bagel and Jon finished the tea. He passed one mug over to Martin just as he was sitting down to eat, and then, much to Martin’s surprise, joined him at the table rather than immediately leaving for his own office.
“Do you usually do anything?” he asked.
Martin shrugged. “Nothing big. Birthdays have never been a big deal for me.” It was a lie. He’d loved his birthday as a kid, loved the presents and the cake and the chance to see all his family and friends. He’d learned not to miss it too much, when his family shrunk by half and there was no one left to throw him a party. “Though I will admit, the ice cream last year was nice.” As was the fact that Jon was taking the time to mark the day as something special, this year.
The corner of Jon’s mouth lifted in a smile. “I do remember that, you know.”
“So you’ve said,” Martin replied, amused.
“I just didn’t make the connection between that and your birthday.”
“So you thought we were just going out for ice cream for no reason at all?”
Jon’s face did something funny as he processed that however he answered that, it could be no less embarrassing than forgetting entirely. Martin spared him the trouble of replying at all by laughing.
“I’m just teasing, it’s fine.”
Jon shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Be that as it may. I’m sorry we can’t do something like that again this year.”
Martin shrugged, looking down into his mug and absently stirring his tea. “It’s fine. I barely remembered it was today anyway, until you said something.”
Jon looked… sad, at that. “Well,” he said, more than a little awkwardly. “I’m glad I said something, then.”
Martin smiled down at his tea. “Me too.”
Jon left shortly thereafter, heading for his office to get started on the day’s work. Martin finished his breakfast alone; rinsed his dishes in the sink; did the same.
Tim and Sasha arrived around nine, like they usually did. Both wished him a happy birthday as they entered, and Martin, more prepared this time, met them with a smile.
The day proceeded quietly. At lunch, Tim left to grab something at a nearby café; Sasha joined Martin in the breakroom for reheated soup. Jon, presumably, ate in his office. That was what Martin always told himself, at least. He had a sneaking suspicion that on most days, Jon didn’t eat lunch at all.
Sasha finished her lunch before Martin did, and thus, when he returned to the assistants’ office to continue his work, it was to find all three of his coworkers standing around his desk, ice cream cones in hand.
“Happy birthday!” Tim, who was holding two cones, stepped forward to pass one off to Martin. “We got you mint chip, hope you like it.”
Martin took the cone, momentarily speechless. “I…”
“We figured we’d bring the party inside this year,” Sasha explained, catching a drip off the side of her own cone with her tongue. “Since, well…” She shrugged. “Jon said you really liked the ice cream last year, so we thought it’d be nice to do a repeat.”
Martin’s eyes flickered to Jon, who looked vaguely embarrassed. Was that why he had asked Martin if he had any birthday traditions, that morning? He had already been planning to do something, and was trying to find out what would be best? He must have sent Tim off over their lunch break to fetch the ice cream for them all. And Sasha had distracted him, keeping him in the breakroom so he wouldn’t see.
Part of Martin wanted to tear up at how thoughtful that was, from all three of them, setting out to make the day special even in the midst of all the stress from the worms' continued presence. But the others were smiling, and he didn’t want to dampen the mood with too much sentimentality. He was, indeed, very happy as well.
“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “This is- you guys didn’t have to do all this!”
“We didn’t have to,” Tim agreed, waving his cone in a way that came dangerously close to sending the ice cream flying. “We wanted to.”
“And now we should probably move this back to the breakroom,” Sasha added, eyes tracking the movement of Tim’s cone. “Before we get ice cream all over our work and Jon has a conniption.”
Tim and Martin laughed, and Jon gave them a glare that looked far more amused than genuinely upset. Sasha led the way out the door.
Martin made sure he was walking next to Jon as they made their way to the breakroom.
“Thank you,” he said, keeping his voice low enough that the others wouldn’t hear. “This is really nice.”
Jon glanced at him, quirking an eyebrow. “Don’t thank me, Tim got the ice cream.”
“It was your idea, though,” Martin said, and Jon didn’t deny it.
“Thank you,” Martin reiterated, pointedly, nudging his shoulder.
Jon rolled his eyes. But he also smiled, and waved Martin into the breakroom ahead of him. “Happy birthday, Martin,” he said.
Martin had to agree. It was.