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Martin awoke to the feeling of the warm morning light filtering in through the bedroom window of Upton House. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the room began to become clearer: the peach-toned silk of the duvet, the golden Romanesque details on the mahogany bedposts, and the soft mint green panelled walls. Behind him, Martin could feel Jon snuggled up against his back, his head tucked between his shoulders subconsciously hiding his eyes from the light coming through the window.
It was quiet… so quiet.
But it wasn’t the type of silence that Martin had become all too familiar with on his and Jon’s journey through the domains of the Fears. The smothering silence of the Lonely, the crushing weight of the Buried, or the dizziness of the Vast. This was a different feeling altogether, and one that Martin had almost forgotten could exist or had ever existed before.
Tranquillity. Stillness. Contentment .
Slowly, Martin turned over to face Jon, trying his best not to disturb him from his much-needed rest. For almost as long as Martin had known him, Jon seemed so tired . But now he was beyond tired, to the point where exhausted still seems like an understatement. With so much information constantly passing through his mind, Martin has seen the impact this has had on Jon, but can’t begin to imagine how wearying it must be for him. Watching him sleep, Jon looks so much younger; the dark circles under his eyes and lines on his face had faded. His body was still marked by the scars from the terrors he had experienced: the marks on his face and chest from the worm attack on the Institute, the jagged stab wound on his shoulder from Melanie, and the faint line across his neck from Daisy’s knife. They have both changed and experienced so much over the past couple of years which left scars on both of them, not all of them visible.
Gently brushing aside the prematurely greying hair draped across Jon’s face, Martin pressed a gentle kiss to Jon’s forehead. Martin reached behind himself to quietly pull the curtain on the poster bed closed to keep the sunlight out of Jon’s eyes so he could continue to sleep, trying to keep the outside world at bay just a little while longer. Since arriving at Upton and escaping the view of the Panopticon, Martin was relieved to feel again: the need for sleep, pangs of hunger, and of course the craving for a proper cup of tea. Slowly turning the handle to the bedroom door, Martin stepped out into the brightly lit hallway and found a tray with a teapot, a pair of cups and saucers, milk, and sugar on the antique sideboard. Although he was slightly unsettled by the sudden appearance of the tea, no doubt put there by Annabelle Cane, Martin had never felt happier to see a full tea service. Carrying the tray back into the and gently placing it on the table by the window, Martin checked the tea, finding it was unsurprisingly perfectly steeped, and poured himself a cup. Curling up in the large bay window overlooking the gardens, Martin sipped his tea, sighing contentedly as he watched the peacocks wandering around the garden and the flowers fluttering in the late summer breeze.
Martin sat in peace, savouring two cups and thumbing his way through a book he found on the red chinoiserie end table, occasionally looking up to check that Jon was still asleep. After another hour or so, Martin heard the silk comforter rustle.
“We’ve been out of the hellscape for how long and you’ve already found tea?” Jon mumbled groggily from behind him, still waking from his overdue rest.
Martin couldn’t help but smile, looking over his shoulder at his boyfriend rubbing his eyes and stretching out under the sheets.
“I’ll have you know this may just be the longest I have gone without a proper cup of tea in my life, thank you,” Martin replied sipping his tea deliberately loudly. Jon grinned, slowly sitting up against the nest of pillows. Martin poured a tea for Jon and brought the tray over to the bed, handing Jon the cup and saucer with a kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks,” Jon smiled, taking his first sip. “Only you can make tea that I actually enjoy. How do you do it?”
“You, the all-knowing Archivist, haven’t used your powers to find out how to make a good cup of tea?” Martin chuckled, joining Jon against the pillows. Jon instinctively tucked himself into Martin’s side.
“Well, there have been some… other priorities lately,” Jon said, taking another sip. “Besides, having my boyfriend waking me up with the perfect cup of tea is something I could get accustomed to.”
“So could I,” Martin sighed. “And in a place like this. It’s so peaceful here. Like we could almost forget about everything and just… be . Be here. Be us.”
“The cabin feels so long ago, like a dream of a past life,” Jon almost whispered, meshing his fingers with Martin’s. “A very good dream.”
“It was,” Martin said raising their interwoven hands to place a kiss Jon’s knuckles. “And this time we don’t have an all-seeing audience.”
“True,” Jon chuckled. “I love you, Martin.”
“I love you too.”
Martin and Jon sat together, enjoying each other’s company in the peace afforded by this oasis that they found. Although they had known each other for years at this point, getting to spend this precious time together was more than either of them had ever hoped for after everything they had been through together.
“Well then,” Martin said, breaking the comfortable silence between them, “since we found this place what do you say we explore a bit? You looked so adorable earlier when you were excited about the mystery of this place…”
“I will never get used to being called adorable.”
“Well you should, because you are,” Martin said nudging Jon’s shoulder. “So what do you say, ready to go full Sherlock Holmes around this place?”
“Lead on, Dr. Watson.”
********************************************
Hand in hand, Martin and Jon explored the grounds around Upton House. They spent the better part of the day, sharing memories and their favourite random facts. Jon was surprised by how knowledgeable Martin was about country house landscapes and plants. Jon felt so much lighter and unburdened being with Martin this way, not having to avoid knowing what Martin was thinking or feeling. And he could see the difference in Martin too, he seemed more open and relaxed. Jon knew Martin trusted him not to know things about him, but knowing Jon couldn’t seemed to set Martin even more at ease.
Finding a quiet spot on the terrace, Jon and Martin sat on the parterre overlooking the small lake. Martin stretched his legs out in front of him, closing his eyes and warming his face in the sun. Jon laid beside him, resting his head in Martin’s lap. The warm breeze felt so good against his skin, the calming smell of lavender and rose emanating from the garden. Martin started to gently run his fingers through Jon’s unkempt hair and across his forehead, causing Jon to close his eyes.
“Martin?”
“Yes, love?”
“I was thinking, since we have this time alone alone, and I can’t know things about you, maybe this would be a good opportunity for us to learn more about each other? It’s probably a weird idea but I thought…”
“A-actually that’s a brilliant idea. Since you cheated at I Spy it seems only fair…”
“I did not ,” Jon chuckled, feigning offence. “Then to make it up to you, you can ask me first.”
“Easy ones first then… what’s your favourite film?” Martin asked before adding teasingly “and if you say Citizen Kane or The Godfather you will break my heart.”
“I would hate to disappoint you, but you’re right it isn’t.”
“Oh thank god, I wasn’t ready for Jonathan ‘ I-only-watch-serious-films’ Sims.”
Jon laughed, “It’s actually The Mummy ”.
“You’re joking!”
“I most certainly am not!” Jon chuckled. “It’s a cinematic masterpiece… the plot, the cast, and the absolutely flawless special effects. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched it.”
“Very true. Well then, I know what we’re watching for our first movie night.”
“I will hold you to that, after we also save the world from an apocalyptic supernatural force,” Jon winked at Martin. “My turn, then. What’s your… favourite ice cream flavour?”
“I would have to say… London Fog, but specifically the one from the ice cream shop down the road from the Institute. It’s just unbeatable. I would sneak out a bit early from work on hot days to get some…”
“Of course your favourite ice cream tastes like tea, Martin Blackwood,” Jon smiled, reaching up to touch Martin’s cheek.
“What can I say, old habits and all that. So, other than my superior tea-making skills, what’s your favourite thing about me?”
Jon paused. There were so many things that he had come to love about Martin. His extensive collection of jumpers. The way he curled his hair behind his right ear when he was thinking or nervous. His dependability. His kindness. How caring he is of the people he loves most. The way he held Jon close to him as they slept, trying to protect him from the world.
“Martin I… I don’t know what I did to ever deserve you,” Jon said, sitting up to straddle Martin’s lap and resting his arms around his shoulders.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Jon emphasised, “you’re just so good, and I'm... not. Especially after everything that's happened...”
“O-Oh, Jon I didn’t mean to make this so serious,” Martin stumbled. “I was only jo-”
“No, Martin please. I’ve been thinking about his for so long and never knew how to bring it up. Even before all… this, you’re so good . So sweet, and kind, and compassionate. I can’t believe it took me this long to notice, and I’ll never forgive myself for not seeing it sooner.”
“Hey,” Martin whispered, lifting Jon’s chin to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing to forgive, and I mean it.”
“Martin after everything I did, how I treated you… everything I said and did…”
“Jon, listen to me. We’re here. We’re together. And I’m not going anywhere ,” Martin said, touching his forehead to Jon’s. “Was this how I hoped this would play out, no. Do I wish this could have happened sooner before the world went to hell, absolutely. I wish we could have time together being a normal couple… walks at the park, visiting cafes, cooking dinner together, cuddling together after a long day at work. But we’re here together now, and I intend for us to make the most of it.”
“I love you, Martin Blackwood.”
“And I love you, Jonathan Sims,” Martin smiled before kissing Jon. “I always will.”
As their kisses grew from tender to ardent, Jon began to run his hands underneath Martin’s jumper desperate for more contact with Martin’s skin. Martin had always been supportive and understanding of Jon’s asexuality, allowing Jon to take the lead on how far their intimacy went. Martin had become a grounding force for Jon, his reason, a way for him to come back to himself. To be Jon. Not the Archivist, not a part of the Eye. Just Jon, the one who loved Martin and who Martin loved in return.
In moments like these with Jon, Martin tried to memorize every movement, every sound, every feeling. On their journey so far there have been so few opportunities for them to be together. Gently, Jon pulled Martin’s jumper over his head, kissing Martin’s chest as he went. Discarding the jumper on the grass, Jon laid back down on the warm grass, Martin leaned over him and started kissing his neck.
“May I?” Martin asked, playing with the button on Jon’s shirt.
“Y-yes, please yes,” Jon stuttered. Martin made quick work of Jon’s buttons, pushing it off his shoulders and exposing his skin to the sun. Jon pulled Martin against him, needing to be as close to him as he possibly could. “I need you.”
“And I need you.”
“J-Jon?” Martin sighed in Jon’s ear as their kisses grew more desperate.
“Mhmmm?” Jon mumbled as he continued to press kisses on Martin’s neck and against that spot behind his ear that Jon knew he loved. Much to Martin’s surprise, it hadn’t taken Jon long to learn how to make him come undone.
“Just because we aren’t being seen doesn’t mean we won’t be seen here, darling.”
“Ah, yes. Quite right,” Jon smiled, nudging his nose against Martin’s. “So what do you propose then?”
“That we go back inside to continue… this,” Martin breathed shakily. “And…”
“And…?” Jon asked, enjoying continuing to torment Martin.
“And explore some more, ask each other more questions, and see if it is just as… inspiring?”
“I look forward to it. And will you be serving tea later ?”
“Of course love,” Martin laughed. “There will always be tea.”
Martin took Jon’s hand, leading him back to the house to finish their explorations. Although they knew that the peace they had found at Upton couldn’t last, the home they found in each other would be enough.