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Jon didn’t notice Martin’s entrance into his office until it was too late. There he was one moment, relaxing in his ergonomic desk chair with a book in his lap, completely absorbed in it, and in the next, the book had been swiped from his hands.
“Martin!” Jon exclaimed, whipping his head around to face him. “Give that back!”
Martin hid the book behind his back as he leaned in towards Jon. “You said. That we could watch a movie at eight. It is eight-fifteen. I gave you a fifteen minute grace period, because I know you, and I still have to come and grab you!” Martin scolded him, exasperated.
“Well. Sorry, about that, I suppose I just lost track of time…” Jon admitted, trailing off as he tried to peer around Martin to the book he was currently holding hostage.
“Hmm. Apology will be accepted when you come watch a movie with me.”
“Let me finish my chapter.”
“No, I don’t think I will.” Martin looked down at him, the picture of complete innocence. Jon looked at him, then at his arm, then back up at Martin, who was trying to hide a smile now, before making a grab at the book.
“Nope!” Martin dodged Jon’s attack, throwing the hand holding the book high above Jon’s head with quite the evil little grin.
“Martin…” Jon warned, and Martin just laughed.
“You can have it back aaaafter a movie,” He said. “Or, I suppose you could have it now, if you can reach it.” A mischievous twinkle in his eye appeared to match his evil grin.
“Oh, you bastard!” Jon swore, playing into Martin’s little game just a bit by forcing some extra annoyance into his voice. Really, though, Jon was quite confident that he was going to win this little encounter. See, Martin hadn’t taken into account the advantage that Jon had: a chair. A chair that he could stand on. Pulling his feet onto the seat of it, he glared into Martin’s teasing eyes as he stood up as cautiously as he could without sending himself toppling. The chair was on wheels, after all.
“Woah!” Martin shouted, an arm wrapping around Jon to steady him just as Jon hooked a leg around Martin’s waist, fully intending to climb the man to claim his prize. The chair rocketed away from them as Jon pushed his other leg off of it to also wrap around Martin. With his empty hand Martin clutched at Jon’s thigh, trying to support him, and Jon shoved himself upward with his hands on Martin’s shoulders to gain the last bit of height he needed. He could feel victory, taste it even, when Martin suddenly dropped the book behind him in favor of helping Jon’s other leg latch onto him, holding him in a more secure grip.
“Well that wasn’t very fair of you,” Jon pouted as he sunk into Martin’s hold, letting his arms slide into a more comfortable position looped around Martin’s neck. “I think we need to amend the rules, here – you can’t drop the book just because I’m about to win.”
Martin gaped at him in mock offense before breaking out into laughter. “Christ, Jon, I dropped it because I didn’t want to drop you !” He exclaimed, while adjusting his grip on Jon’s thighs to hold him closer.
Jon couldn’t help but smile back — Martin’s laughter was quite contagious, after all. Still, he waved a dismissive hand between them. “I believe I would have been just fine.”
“Yeah. Ooookay Jon. So sorry for trying to keep you safe.”
“Well Martin, maybe you should reconsider putting me in a position where I am in danger of falling and breaking my neck.”
Martin smiled fondly and pressed a kiss onto Jon’s cheek. “Sounds to me like you’re just trying to find someone to blame for your poor decisions, love.”
“Hmm. Agree to disagree.”
“Sure. Fine.” This time when Martin kissed him, he kissed Jon properly. “Well. Seeing as I’ve got you properly held hostage now, it seems like you have to watch a movie with me,” Martin beamed at him, smug but still affectionate. Jon replied by groaning in exaggerated exasperation.
“Come on then,” Martin said, turning on his heel to carry Jon to the sitting room. “I’ll lie on top of you to keep you there, if I have to.”
Jon thought about that – himself, sprawled out on the couch, with Martin’s head pillowed on his chest and letting Jon play with his hair, and found he had very little to object to.
“Could you at least pick up my book?” He asked mournfully as Martin stepped over it.
Martin just giggled at him. “Sorry, hands are a bit full.”
Jon sighed, then let his head rest on Martin’s shoulder as they crossed the threshold into the hallway. “I suppose I should have considered that.”