You know I think we’re all always so caught up on “you don’t sound Russian” that we have completely forgotten that time Jon literally asked Martin if he was a ghost
saving my most beloved blorbos in one of those fancy lined and padded boxes, so i can keep them in my pocket and inconspicuously feed them table scraps
It’s time for the holiday gift exchange and Martin pulled Jon’s name from the box. He has to find the perfect gift.
Contains: General jon/martin fluff, holiday party, just fluff and fun for the holidays
1,716 words
“Oh no.” Martin sat at his desk, still looking at the piece of paper he had pulled out of the box. It had been over twenty minutes since they pulled names for the holiday gift exchange, and the name hadn’t changed.
“Are you ever going to stop moaning over it?” Tim glanced over from his computer. “I’m not that hard to shop for. You’ll be fine.”
“Very funny.” Martin said, shaking his head and putting the paper in his pocket. “I got Jon.”
Tim stared at him. “And that’s… a bad thing? I figured you’d jump at the chance to give him something.”
“It’s not that it’s… what do I get him? It has to be perfect.” Martin buried his face in his hands. “Help me, Tim. Aren’t you good at this sort of thing?”
“Not really, but I got off easy this time.”
“Sasha?”
“Elias. A tie. Perfect.” Tim spun a little in his chair. “Can’t help you out with boss man, though. You’re going to have to talk to him, mate.”
“Mhm…” Martin looked back at the door to Jon’s office, which was, as always, closed. Jon complained that they chatted too much, and it distracted him from his research.
“Maybe ask him if he wants to have lunch together?” Tim turned back to his computer, deciding it was time to pretend to work again. He didn’t have an active case to research. “We used to all go out before he became the boss, and you had just as much of a crush then. Can’t be that hard.”
“Mhm.” Martin sighed, turning back to his own work. “Maybe. Do you think he’d say yes?”
“Never know until you ask.” Tim was already checking out of the conversation, searching online for what looked like very garish ties.
It still took almost an hour for Martin to convince himself to ask, and almost a minute of standing in front of Jon’s door to knock, but he was greeted almost instantly with, “Come in.”
Jon had a few small piles of paper spread across the desk in front of him, and he was focused on his laptop. A recorder sat on one edge, silent. Jon looked up. “Martin? Did you need something?”
“Oh. Hello, Jon. I…” Martin swore he could feel Tim watching him, could practically see the smile on his coworker’s face. “Lunch. Do you want to get lunch?”
“Lunch?” He sat up a bit more, looking at his desk. “I… don’t have food…”
“… why not?”
Jon stared at his desk for a moment before shrugging. “I suppose I forgot. But we could go to the café? I recall it having good options.”
“Where we all used to go? I haven’t been there in ages. I’d love to.”
“It’s a date.” Jon said, clearly not even realizing his words. Martin felt a blush. “Give me twenty minutes to get this all put away? I’ll come and get you when I’m ready.”
“Alright. Can’t wait.” Martin was smiling wide as he pulled Jon’s door shut behind him. Tim was indeed watching him.
“Good work, Romeo.”
“Shut up.” Martin buried his face in his hands, still blushing. “Just shut up.”
--
The walk to the café was relatively quiet. Jon had never been the best at small talk, and Martin was too nervous to bring anything up. Thankfully, it was a short trip, so they did their best to enjoy the silence as they went. They got a nice seat by the window, and because of the strange time, they had almost the whole café to themselves, which was fine by them both.
“Thank you for the invitation, Martin. I feel like you’re all so afraid of me now that I’m head archivist.” Jon was fiddling with the menu a bit.
“Oh yeah. No problem.” Martin watched Jon for a moment. “I think everyone is intimidated now? You know, since you’re our boss and all.”
“I’m not Elias.” He replied, disdain in his voice. “We can still chat. Hang out.”
“Hang out?”
Jon stared at him. “Yes.”
Martin couldn’t help but laugh. Jon using any sort of slang seemed out of place. “Any holiday plans?”
“No, nothing really. I never do a lot for the holidays, aside from attending the institute party.”
“That’s… that’s so sad! Nothing? No big dinner or gift giving?”
He shrugged a little, glancing out the window. “I don’t have family living anymore, and I have grown distant from friends. Are you surprised that I’m not the most popular?”
“I…” Martin paused, thinking over his words. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
Jon waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’ve grown quite used to it. I’ll probably watch old Christmas movies, make myself something nicer for dinner. It might be lonely, but it is doing what I enjoy. How about yourself?”
“The research team is having a party that I’ll probably go to for a bit. My mum doesn’t like when I stay out too late – I have to take care of her, you know – so after the party, I’ll put together some sort of dinner for the two of us. Probably watch something cheesy after she’s gone to bed.” The waiter interrupted them, taking down their orders. Martin noted that Jon only ordered a cup of soup, and tried to decide if he looked any thinner.
“How have you all been doing with the change? I miss our chats.” Jon seemed genuinely interested in an answer.
Martin filled him in on their lives since Jon’s promotion. He told Jon about the fish incident in the break room, about how Robin in HR wouldn’t talk to Jen in Research for a week because of it. Jon seemed shocked that Sasha and Tim were dating. Jon couldn’t remember who Alex in Accounting was, but the story of him quitting and telling Elias off was still pretty funny.
As their lunch wound down, Martin was pleased to see that Jon had eaten his soup, along with half of Martin’s fries. What had started off as nerve wracking for Martin had turned into a fun conversation, something akin of the olden days.
“Do you still write poetry?” Jon asked, apropos of nothing. It took Martin completely by surprise.
“Oh. Uh. Yes? Not as much anymore, but I still try to. It helps me unwind.” Martin looked down at his mostly empty plate.
“Maybe someday you will let me read some.” Jon was leaning back, seeming to the world to be completely comfortable. “I will say, I have never found a poet I cared much for. If you wanted to, I would like your help with that. Finding a poet to enjoy, that is.”
And just like that, Martin had an idea. “Absolutely.”
-
Jon fidgeted in his holiday sweater. Four shops, and he hadn’t been able to find one that wasn’t at least a little itchy. He had a cup of cheap prosecco in one hand, mostly forgotten. It seemed like everyone else was having a great time, chatting and laughing, but Jon just felt out of place. The holiday party was always a bit of an awkward time for him.
“Jon?” Martin piped up from behind him. “You having fun?”
“Hm? Oh. Of course. Just feeling a bit out of place, I suppose. How does Elias even look like he’s enjoying himself?” Jon gestured over to where Elias was laughing with some of the other researchers, his new tie loosely tied around his neck. It was bright green with bright red and white candy canes adorning it.
“Um.” Martin gestured to a small gift bag in his hand. “I know it’s supposed to be… well. Secret. But I wanted to give you your gift?”
“You got me?” Jon let his gaze drift to the bag, curious. He set the prosecco down behind him, a bit thankful to not have to pretend to enjoy it anymore.
“Yes.” Martin kind of held it up. “I hope… I hope you like it.”
Jon took it, a faint smile on his lips. “I got Tim.”
The bluntness of the statement made Martin laugh. “It’s a secret, Jon!”
“I know, but…”
He drifted off as Tim yelled out, “Who in the hell got me coal?”
“I thought you might want to be in on that.” Jon said, laughing. Martin stared at Tim.
“You got him coal?” He couldn’t help but grin, giving away to laughter a second later.
“There’s a gift card to the coffee shop in there as well. But I did have to tease him somehow.” Jon gently took the bag away from Martin, his fingers lingering on Martin’s hand just a moment longer. “Do you want me to open this now?”
The blush that crept across Martin’s face was instantaneous. “Oh. Uh. You… you don’t have to… if you want to. You can wait. I… it’s…”
“Only if you want me to.”
“Sure? Yes. Sure.” Martin’s hand was still up in the air a little, empty.
Jon tucked the bit of tissue paper to one side to reveal a journal, with what looked and felt like actual leather. He tilted his head to one side, trying to make sense of it. Setting the bag on the drinks table, he unwound the strap that held the notebook shut, flipping through the pages. A careful cursive covered the majority of them.
“Martin.”
“You said you… you said you wanted to read some poetry. I found some of my… well, some of my favorite poems from my favorite writers, and I copied them down. It isn’t the best – my cursive has always been a bit rubbish – but I thought the nice book might help it look a little fancier and… um. At the end of the book are some of mine. I wrote who wrote what poems, and the titles. In case you wanted to find more.”
It was the front of the book that caught Jon’s eye, and he knew Martin was blushing even brighter.
Happy Holidays, Jon.
I hope you enjoy these.
Love, Martin
Love. Jon smirked.
“It’s beautiful, Martin. Thank you.” He leaned forward, having to tilt his head up just slightly to reach, and pecked a gentle kiss just to the side of Martin’s lips. “I do hope we can have lunch together again. I’d love it.”
