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“Hey, Jon,” Gerry starts after nearly a half hour of sitting together with their partner in a comfortable silence. “Would you mind calling me Gerard sometimes?”
Jons eyes, wide with concern, snap up from where he’s been lazily petting one of their cats. The sphynx lets out an annoyed meow as Jon’s hand slows down it’s scratching. “I- Of course, but-“ he pauses, studying Gerard’s face, “A…Are you okay?” He asks cautiously.
Even over a decade later, Jon hadn’t forgotten how important it felt to be trusted with something as special as Gerard’s nickname that night in America. Their dying words. To be asked to stop using it…
“…Did I do something?”
Guilt wells in Gerry’s stomach. They had hoped Jon wouldn’t take it that way.
“No, Jon, You’re fine, I just…” they trail off, focusing on their lap instead of Jon. “…It’s nice, being Gerry. it’s what I’ve always wanted- and I still like it, don’t get me wrong- but the thing is I still feel like… Gerard, sometimes, Y’know?”
“What do you mean?” Jon asks, his hands fiddling with the cat’s wrinkles as he stares at them, a gentle expression on his face.
“I dunno, sometimes it just feels… wrong, that everyone here knows me as Gerry Sims who likes ghost puns and has cats and- and goes to their dad’s on the weekend.” Their voice cracks at that. “I still feel like Gerard keay who lived with their mum their whole life hunting Leitners. Like monster manual Gerard.”
Jon takes a hand off the cat and rests it on Gerard’s, the ridges of his scars fitting against the other’s perfectly. “…Because you still are?” Jon says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but somehow without making them feel stupid. “Your life has changed, of course, but you’re still- I’m ‘Jonathan Sims who named his cats Jareth and Doctor Frank N’Furter’,but I’m still… ‘Ended-the-world’ Jon.” He squeezes the hand below his. “The past doesn’t just cancel out because we’re alright now. We can be both. We-we are both. You’re still you. I’m still Jon. We’re just… different, than we were.”
Their eyes meet, and Jon doesn’t mention the wetness Gerard is sure has welled up in theirs at their partner’s words. It’s not often Jon brings up the apocalypse-not to them at least. They forget, sometimes, that Jon’s in the same boat as they are: so unused to a normal life but living it anyways. Forced to become less than human and then dragged right back to it. He didn’t deserve that. Neither of them did.
“Yeah, you’re right. Guess we are… ‘S weird though, isn’t it?” They rub at their eyes, humor slipping into their voice. “The Archivist and Gerard Keay, crying on a couch together.”
Jon laughs, apparently surprising himself. He cleans his glasses on his shirt. “It’s so weird, Gerard.” His voice drips with affection. “And I wasn’t crying, I just have dry eyes.” He grins, turning his nose up with a sniff, earning a snort from their partner.
The two fall into silence again, one of Jon’s hands rubbing lazy circles into Gerard’s, the other doing the same to Doctor Frank’s pink back. Gerard leans on to Jon, hunched so their cheek can rest on the short man’s shoulder. Jon tilts his head down to just slightly press his cheek to their hair. They’ll never get tired of the way they can do this with jon, after being intangible for years and touch starved their whole life before that.
Doctor Frank stretches and moves to lie across both their laps.
Without moving his head back off of theirs, Jon starts to speak again. “…Do, ah, do you actually want me to call you that, though? Gerard, I mean. I will, if you really like it, I had just thought…”
“Yeah, I think I do, just once in a while. I think it might make me feel less like I’m pretending I’m a different guy. Makes it more like things have just taken a real weird turn for Gerard.” Their voice stays light, their lips still pressed into a smile, but Jon can feel their fingers tighten under his own.
“You’re sure? It doesn’t still… upset you, to be called that?” He asks carefully. He hasn’t actually talked to Gerard about their name since they first told him to call them Gerry, (Their first name, anyways; he had far too many questions when Tim introduced him to Gerry Sims not to ask) but of course he remembered the reasoning behind the request.
Gerry sighs and sits up so they can look him in the face instead of their shoulder. “Jon, the problem was never the name. I was just sick of being ‘Her Gerard’.”
“Oh-“
“Yeah. But I don’t mind the idea of being ‘Your Jared’.”
Jon feels his face flush, though he’s sure it’s not as visible as the pink dusting their cheeks. “I- you’re serious?” He asks incredulously.
(He tries not to think about when he’d called them that to Jurgen Leitner.)
They snort. “ ‘Course. Always thought it was sort of charming that you can’t say Gerard, actually.” Their tone is obviously joking, but Jon knows better than to think it’s not genuine, especially with their blush still so pink.
“G- Now, look here-!” Jon sputters, his laughter giving up his faux offense. “Not my fault you can’t pronounce your own name!” Gerry gives him a playful shove, ruining Jon’s act even more, and annoying Doctor Frank enough for the cat to jump off the couch.
Jon hums. “Well, it works out fine, I suppose, I was already calling you ‘Our Gerard’ before we’d met.” His eyes widen as he realizes what he said- what happened to not thinking about it?!
“What?”
“I… Oh, good lord. Story for a different day.” He buries his face in his hands.
“No, you don’t get to get out of it that easy, Jon!” Their face lights up with mischief as they place their hands on his shoulders. “Come on!”
“Gerard” Jon groans over Gerry’s laughter.