Work Text:
Jon wakes up the same way he did yesterday, and the day before that, and probably will tomorrow. He stretched his legs from their previously curled-up position, taking a few minutes to let the numbness transform into familiar discomfort before he pulled his body weight up with his arms and grabbed his cane, which had lain on the floor all night, to begin another merry day.
The winter makes his morning routine much harder than usual; the humid cold and his badly insulated apartment don't fit well, and he needs to make double the effort to get to work. His joints throb with the smallest movement as he reaches for his medicine box, swallowing them with the water still left on his bedside table.
As he drives to work, the streets are dully decorated with Christmas lights; most storefronts have them turned off for the day, while others emit colourful lighting that doesn't really stand out in the daylight. There are fewer people outside than normal, due to most schools having gone on winter break and most people taking a vacation to travel or spend time inside with their family. Jon, however, with nothing to look for during Christmas, keeps driving while trying to distract himself from the memories that come with the season.
He parks right beside the entrance, by some holiday miracle, and as he gets out of the car, he grabs a small paper bag from the passenger seat. Setting his cane on the ground to pull himself up, his eyes land on the big flashy Christmas lights raining down the windows, leading their way down the building to a big wreath hung on the main gates, decorated with red ribbons across its length and small bells that chimed with the breeze. Jon pushed the gate open to an imposingly decorated entrance. Tim's desk was clad with a new red cloth with a small Santa sitting on it, all the shelves had small Christmas ornaments hanging from them and big snowflakes falling from the roof. The children's section was filled to the brim with cardboard decorations, some clearly made by the children themselves, glued to the side of the bookshelves or glued on the white walls. Small snowmen made of styrofoam and glued on black buttons were scattered randomly on some desks, while others held light candles inside a makeshift holly made of craft paper.
Jon wasn't exactly surprised by the onslaught of jolly Christmas decorations since they had been piling up since mid-December. Contrary to him, everyone in the library liked celebrating, and seeing an opportunity to leave their usual work load, most days were spent going to the craft store across the street and making any other Christmas decorations one would find on the internet. During his years working at the library, Jon was mostly used to this; it slightly bothered him, and every time Sasha spoke out about a cute thing she found, he would be the first one to politely climb up the stairs to escape.
To his dismay, he was always the only one who escaped. Martin would climb up to get him a cup of tea and see how he was doing, if he could get him a blanket he had stored or check in the fireplace they had actually started using.
Even Elias liked going with his employees on their Christmas traditions, going as far as to drag his husband-not-husband to the merry celebration they had before actual Christmas began.
Said merry celebration was today, in fact, hence why Jon had bought a small paper bag with him. This year, Tim and Sasha had planned a surprise Secret Santa the week before, preparing a bag of papers with everyone's name on it and making everyone pull a name out. That was when Jon's paper read Martin.
He had initially declined to have any part in the secret Santa, but by his coworkers' harsh insistence, he caved in. After tucking the small piece of paper in his back pocket and feigning disinterest to his overly interested coworkers, he spent the whole weekend thinking of a gift to give Martin. He knew Martin liked tea; he knew Martin liked poetry; however, he didn't really know the type of poetry he liked, and he knew Martin spent a worrying amount of money in second-hand stores.
So one afternoon, he dragged his body downtown and tried to find as many relatively cheap second-hand stores as his legs let him, and he settled on a small diary notebook. A typical A5 notebook, with a nice blue hard cover with a lighthouse design.
He had seen Martin write a couple of times, in the rooms upstairs with the huge bookshelves that close in on themselves, with how many and how tightly they are to one another. Jon would only come into those rooms when he needed something really specific, or when Tim would help him take storage. There were no chairs or seats in those rooms, so Jon's only way of resting was to sit on the ground, yet one time when he went there alone, he saw Martin sitting in a corner with his back against the wall, scribbling in a notebook on his lap. That image never seemed to leave Jon's head, and that's why he was inclined to buy Martin a notebook.
Jon then took his gift and set it over all the other presents under the Christmas tree— yes, a Christmas tree. Tim had first brought up the idea when everyone was having fun decorating, and the next day Martin had brought his own Christmas tree, excusing it with "It doesn't fit into my flat." and "It's better off being used than in a cardboard box", ending with his awkward laugh.
The tree has since been decorated by several people in the library, including visitors and children, who were offered a piece of decorated paper to write on and set on one of the branches, leaving the tree almost full.
Jon did not really participate in these types of things; he was never really into Christmas, as his house didn't celebrate it, and he just stood in his living room watching themed films instead of the normal ones, while his grandmother cooked in the kitchen, like any other day.
So he went upstairs, like any other day, to work. The fireplace was burning strongly, and so he took a seat on the desk beside it, groaning in relief after having to climb so many stairs.
The wood cracked in his ears as he was consumed by his mundane work.
·꙳⋆𖢔𖠰𖢔·꙳⋆
As noon came around, Martin came up the stairs, having spent the morning with Sasha and Tim, who had brought their coffee machine from home and some hot chocolate capsules to try and make some in the library. Since Christmas Day was coming really close, the library didn't have any visitors, except a group of three who came by the library ever so often.
Gertrude and Gerry always came to spend Christmas in the library before it closed for the actual day. When Gertrude still worked there, little Gerry was always slightly spoiled by the other staff, keeping various books for himself or even receiving small presents. This year, he decided to bring his boyfriend, Michael, with him to spend Christmas in the library.
Michael had brought several head accessories with him, some with reindeer antlers, Santa hats, and others in theme. Michael himself was wearing a bright wool sweater, covered in the most egregious colour combinations that somehow made it across to be a Christmas sweater, and wrapped around his torso was a continuous string of Christmas lights, that were controlled by a remote he kept in his pocket, he had them flicking different colours, which partially blinded everyone who had their eyes turned his way.
Maybe it was for that reason that Gerry had brought sunglasses with him, a pair with a Santa hat on top of the lenses, to fit the theme.
But why do they make Christmas-themed sunglasses? Martin had wondered to himself that morning.
Martin stepped inside the office Jon worked at to ask him his plans for lunch, since everyone was planning to order takeout and split the bill, and he wanted to ask Jon if he would like to join them. He had talked to Jon earlier this morning, when they were making hot chocolate, about whether Jon wanted one. At the time, he was holding his own, waiting for it to cool down. Jon had initially dismissed it, saying he wasn't a fan of chocolate, but when he looked again at Martin's mug, he said, "You can leave it here, Martin, maybe I'll try it."
Martin didn't mention he was holding his own cup, which he had decorated with whipped cream, cinnamon and sprinkles, something he thought would disgust Jon. But he didn't mind it this way. He left his mug on the desk and hoped Jon would actually take a sip of it.
Now he returns to the desk, and the first thing that catches his eye is the empty mug moved closer to Jon than before.
Martin feels his heart squeeze, but containing his excitement, he talks to Jon.
"Hello, Martin." Jon doesn't even look at him, staring fixedly at his desktop.
"Hi! Do you have plans for lunch?" Martin starts.
"I'll eat something eventually." Jon keeps looking at his work, dismissing the question like any other day.
"Oh, it's just we're all thinking of ordering takeout, there's not really anyone here visiting right now, and Gertrude and Gerry are also spending the day. I just thought to ask if you wanted something?" He blurts out nervously.
Jon stares at him for a few seconds, his eyes a bit sunken, his eye bags a lot more prominent than usual. Martin sees him every day besides weekends, and every day he yearns to ask what's going on, if there's anything wrong that he could help with, if he needs help, but he knows it's not his place to meddle, and Jon would not be happy about him asking.
"There's no need to order anything for me, I'll join soon." Jon answered.
This was the best Martin could get, after all.
☃꙳·❅°*˖
Jon actually did join them, after everyone had scraped their food and Martin had volunteered to use Tim and Sasha's coffee machine to make actual coffee. As the espressos were being taken, Martin waved at Jon to join him.
"Did you eat anything?" Martin asked. He had his suspicion that Jon never had lunch, which was worrying to him, since he always looked frail enough to go with the wind.
"Not really, I wasn't exactly hungry." Right, thought Martin.
"Well, if you're hungry now, I left some chicken nuggets from my order, if you want to heat them. Would you like coffee?"
Jon made a face, but before he could answer,
"There's some hot chocolate left. Tim brought a whole box of them for today, if you want some?"
"I- That, that would be nice, if you don't mind."
Martin felt like he was physically shining, to his embarrassment.
They soon joined the others on the couches. They had moved some tables aside and rearranged the seats to make a mock conversation pit, with a table in the middle filled with wrapped paper inside takeout boxes that would go into the trash later in the evening, probably.
Gertrude greeted Jon with her usual sarcastic remarks about how he shouldn't be holed up with a book the whole day, giving him and Gerry a weird sense of deja vu they did not want to mention. Sasha, however, started laughing hysterically.
Conversation flowed well between them, specifically between Gertrude, Tim and Sasha. Martin hadn't worked in the library as long as Sasha, and he wasn't as extroverted as Tim to simply join a conversation smoothly. Gerry and Michael were not exactly participating in the conversation either, keeping mostly to themselves and whispering to each other, which made Martin the odd one out, staring at the walls of the library or trying to listen to the main conversation without seeming like he wanted to intrude.
So he looked at Jon, who also sat in silence next to him, eating the leftover chicken nuggets, feeling a bit less awkward in this small world they had made inside the library. Martin also wasn't exactly on the best of terms with Jon; sometimes his manner of speaking and dismissive gestures still made Martin think Jon outright hated him, but he still hoped he could tear some of his harsh facade down with time.
Martin asked Jon something he had wondered about for the past week.
"So, Jon, who did you get for Secret Santa?"
Jon's face had lost quite the pigment he had during the summer, leaving his face quite devoid of life. In this moment, however, he felt the colour of his face drain like his soul had left his body.
"I-um, well, we shouldn't tell, right?" Jon mumbled, nervously picking at the skin on his neck.
"I mean, as long as the surprise isn't ruined for the person, it's fine, I guess." Martin continued, now whispering close to Jon's ear. "See, I got Sasha."
Jon's face had felt porcelain white, but now it felt rose red. He didn't like to think about that, though.
"I, well, um, I would like to keep the surprise to myself, Martin." He tried to sound a bit more stern at the end of the sentence, scared his nervousness would bring any suspicion. Martin looked quite dejected, so he believed maybe it worked.
Martin dropped the subject, his spirit down for a while, before he put the pieces together in his head. He rose with hope that maybe by any chance Jon had gotten him a gift, and was nervous because he didn't want to admit it, but it couldn't be, God didn't love him enough for that.
[cute winter divider]
Eventually, the main gates of the library opened, letting a freezing breeze come from the outside. Two men made their way in, Elias and Peter, setting their coats and scarves on the coatrack, mumbling to each other in angry tones.
Gertrude looked them up and down, scoffing at the tea Martin had just offered, as the two owners of the library joined the rest of the party. Elias went to check on the Christmas tree, setting one huge bag behind all the gifts, and a small one alongside it, then he set himself in a free seat next to Peter, who settled a hand on his thigh.
Martin checked the time on his phone; it was almost closing time, and even though they hadn't had any visitors for the whole day, they still needed to clean up so everyone could go home for the holidays.
"So! Should we start opening gifts?" Martin clapped his hands, somewhat excitedly. Jon almost sighed in relief. For a second, he felt like he loved Martin.
Since no one was really against it, Martin distributed the gifts, yelling the name of the receiver out loud.
"The first one is— Gertrude!" He hands the bag to the old woman, her nose painted red by her own son as his boyfriend convinced her to put on reindeer antlers. She held the bag in her hands, suspiciously eyeing her son, who was grinning.
Inside the bag is a book, its cover is bound in black leather, with white carvings in the cover spelling out 'Catalogue of the Trapped Dead'. Gertrude opens the book and drags her hand through the front page, and then skims the rest of the book with her index finger and thumb.
Gerry is still looking at her with a shit eating grin on his face, as if he'll never achieve anything more valuable than surprising his mum.
He remembered this book from his childhood; it was a majestic thing for a small child to look at. One of his early memories was of climbing up a bookshelf on his dad's office, trying to reach it, just to fall over and hit his head on the ground, making his dad come to run over to him.
The first memory he has of Gertrude herself is holding that book, this time in the living room, as his dad talked to her about it, presumably, as he was too young to remember any words. It was the only thing he recognised on the ground after the fire. He was holding Gertrude's hand at the time, looking at the charred leather and the ash surrounding it. As he grew up, it was never been more than a passing thought that came to him once in while, however, he never really felt like he had forgotten it. He kept searching for the book as he grew up, in bookstores, thrift stores, and even antique fairs. Where he finally found it, though, was inside a storeroom in this very own library he had spent countless hours in, while he volunteered to help Jon with some filing. The book was almost brand new, as if time had never got to him.
Gertrude turned to her son, her eyes wide, until she patted her son on the head.
"You can wipe that off your face now."
Jon was about to complain about Gerry having stolen one of the library's books; however, by a bout of sympathy, and by Sasha's knowing stare, he didn't address it.
Martin grabbed a new present off the Christmas tree. He squinted at the label before scrunching his face and handing over the bag to Peter.
Peter looked at the small bag, taking a peak over it while everyone started at him. After taking a look at it, he rapidly closed it and set it aside, tapping firmly on Elias' thigh as he did so.
Martin fumbled through another bag that did not address Elias.
"And the next one is— For Jon!"
He handed out the small paper back to Jon, and watched as Jon took his time carefully taking out the staples before taking out a small bookmark, with a kitten hanging off a tree saying "Hang in there!"
Jon frowned and looked at Martin, huffing as he stuffed his gift inside the bag.
"Thank you, Martin." He said between breaths.
In actuality, Martin was not the one buying that for Jon. He did have a hand in it, however.
Tim had pulled him off work in the middle of the day, pleading for ideas for what to give Jon for Christmas, saying "I don't know him as well as you do!" and "I can't just give him a random trinket! I've worked with him for years!"
So Martin had told him Jon liked cats, and he never seemed to use bookmarks, always a receipt or a Post-it note.
But when he looked back at Tim, he found him crossing his hands over his neck rapidly, silently begging not to snitch on him for the gift.
It was fine, he thought. Jon didn't have the best impression of him already.
He grabbed another bag. "This one is for.. Gerry!"
It was a small bag, almost the size of an envelope, covered in staples at the side, decorated with big colourful spirals around the name 'Gerry', drawn really weirdly and too curvy, even if still legible.
Gerry immediately looked at Michael, whose Christmas lights were still insensibly blinking against his sweater.
He opened the small bag, pulling out two clay key chains, clearly handmade, of two bunnies; one white and yellow, the other black, hugging each other. When separated, a little magnet would put them back together.
Gerry cooed at the small bunnies, sadly separating them so both boyfriends could put them on their respective key chains. He held Michael's head to kiss his forehead.
It was the first time anyone in that room— those who were paying attention, had seen Gertrude smile. A chill went down Tim's arms.
Martin looked at the lovely display, sighed, and pulled out another bag from the small pile.
"Tim!"
This one was fairly bigger than the rest. Almost instantly, Tim looked over to Sasha, who was badly holding her laugh behind the Santa hat she wore during the evening.
Tim cautiously opened his gift, his face contorting as he opened the sweater gifted to him.
"I'm breaking up with you." He said, almost not joking.
As he unwrapped the sweater, he could hear Gerry and Sasha hysterically cackling. In that moment, he understood he was the first in his ancestry to see such an ugly monstrosity of a Christmas sweater, one that could rival even Michael's.
He hid the design in his chest, checking if the back wasn't as atrocious too.
"Now you have to wear it!" Said Sasha.
"No way!"
"Yes way!" She kept giggling maniacally, "Pretty please, Tim!"
Tim looked again at the sweater, considered it for a brief moment, and then put it over his shirt.
Sasha almost rolled to the floor in laughter. Gerry wasn't much better.
Martin put his sleeve over his mouth. Jon stood still in disbelief.
Martin pulled another bag, trying to compose himself in the meantime.
Well, it was going to come back to him anyway. "Elias.."
He handed over the big bag to Elias, who curiously opened it. Inside it was a wooden box, expensive-looking and with sharp edges. It had something written engraved on top and a lock. Elias opened it, revealing a whole collection of ties of various colours and patterns, albeit mostly green.
"Thank you, Peter! It was so nice of you!" He turned to kiss his husband on the cheek, which he complied with, even though he seemed more surprised about the gift than Elias himself.
Martin sighed in relief; he imagined everyone did.
He grabbed one with a small label upon it.
"Michael!"
He handed the bag to the yellow curly mane that was this man.
The bag was fairly simple, decorated simply with a sticker with Michael's name written.
Michael opened the bag to see a children's book cover that he had not seen for a long time. It was a copy of 'The Little Prince', but in his mother language, the cover was etched with 'O Principezinho' instead.
He glanced at Gerry before looking at Gertrude, who laughed at his surprised face, reaching to pat him on the back.
Only two bags rested below the Christmas tree, one of which was the gift he had gotten for Sasha, and the other a lone bag he hoped was for himself.
"Sasha!"
He handed her a paper bag decorated with several white hearts over a red background, which looked more like a Valentine's Day gift bag than one for Christmas, but he had been in a rush to buy anything, and it was the only nice bag he had in his house.
Sasha grabbed it enthusiastically before taking out several small bars of chocolate, all different flavours.
She coquettishly looked at Martin, grinning.
"It's to go with your Earl Grey, madame." He teased.
Sasha stood over her seat to hug him. "I'm not sharing this."
"I know." He answered, hugging her back.
Martin held onto the last bag, which he found unlabelled. Jon had been idly staring at everyone having their gifts handed out, anxiously waiting for Martin to pick up his. Even if he was slightly offended by Martin's gift, he wanted to see what Martin thought of his gift. He turned his head to the Christmas tree and saw Martin looking at his bag, looking over and under it.
He forgot to put a fucking label.
In his defence, it was the first Secret Santa he had ever participated in, one of his first Christmases, for Christ's sake!
He grabbed his cane and stood against Martin, his embarrassment translating into red spots on his face.
"It- Yours is that one." He blushed. "I'm sorry I didn't put on a label."
Martin beamed. "It's fine, don't worry."
He carefully opened the bag next to Jon, pulling out the small notebook. He turned it over, passing his hand through the lighthouse and the sea painted on the cover, a small pen came with it, a blue gel pen that matched nicely with the cover. Martin looked mesmerised.
"Thank you, Jon." Martin smiled at him, his eyes crinkled in the corners and his cheeks bones reddened a tiny bit, he adverted his gaze a bit nervously as he couldn't help but chuckle a bit.
Jon kept looking at him, unable to tear his eyes from his face, and glad Martin was not acknowledging how long he had been silently staring.
For a moment, all the bitterness he held for his own gift disappeared Martin looked at him with such sincerity in his eyes, as if he wasn't only holding a small notebook he found at a thrift store, but something greater, heavier with the weight of something Jon couldn't see. He wanted to hold the notebook in his hands again to confirm whether it weight more, but having it enclosed in Martin's hands, he doesn't think his heart would be able to take it back.
"You're welcome." He said instead.
Martin suddenly rose, reminded of something.
"Wait, I bought something for you too!"
Confusion spread on Jon's face, concealing his embarrassment from earlier.
Martin returned briefly with a box in his hands. Jon took it as it was handed to him. Inside it was a white ceramic mug with a black fluffy cat design, the handle of the mug also completely black, as if it was the black cat's tail. Jon looked at the mug, turning it and feeling it in his hands.
"It-It reminded me of you," Martin mumbled, suddenly flushed.
"It's, it's nice. Thank you, Martin." Jon looked at Martin, fiddling with his glasses, cleaning them on his sweater.
☃︎ ❆
After the Secret Santa was done, the sun had long been down, and the night chill had settled itself over the fog.
It was nearing dinner time, and most people were saying their goodbyes. Gerry and Michael had helped clean up and rearrange the seats back together, while Tim and Sasha packed their coffee machine and leftover hot chocolate.
After everything had been done, Gerry had pulled Gertrude from her wheelchair to the car, and Michael was waving everyone goodbye before starting the engine.
Peter and Elias had insisted on staying in the library for a bit longer, which no one had any objection to, besides Tim, who had a stinking suspicion they were not going to "Check up on stuff."
Jon was already strapping himself into the car when someone tapped on his window. Martin shook his hand to him, his breath fogging up the glass.
"Hey Jon, so, I swear I don't want to intrude, but are you free for dinner?" Martin was laughing nervously; even Jon could tell it wasn't just the cold.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, it's Christmas Eve, so of course—"
"I'm free for anything," Jon had blurred out before Martin could finish.
Jon was only aware of Martin stopping his breath for the fact his glass was not fogging up anymore.
"Great! We could go to a restaurant around here, or to my apartment if they're too crowded, I don't really know if I have anything to prepare—"
"I was planning on cooking something fancy today, if you won't mind." Jon interrupted, again.
"I-I, well, that would be perfect!" Jon unlocked the door, and Martin curled up in the seat, getting used to the AC turned on.
Jon drove away, back to his apartment, half his mind reminding him he might be going insane.
But in the meantime, they'll cook dinner, and Martin will insist on showing Jon 'Home alone' because "A Christmas never feels like Christmas before watching both movies." While Jon holds himself from telling Martin he has seen both 'Home Alone' films multiple times, that his not having a Christmas did not ban him from the TV.
Martin will fall asleep on his couch in the middle of the first movie, and he will have to tuck him in several blankets because it's a cold house, and he hasn't even gotten out of his outdoor clothes. And if his hands linger on Martin's shoulder or his face when he needs to take his glasses off, if his stare lingers for more than necessary, then it's only a secret for him to keep, nestled in his heart.
He will eventually fall asleep on the couch at the beginning of the second film, and holding an extra blanket he had brought, he lies onto something he swears must be a pillow before falling asleep on what was actually, Martin's shoulder.
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛