Chapter Text
Jon was going insane.
He knew that, obviously, the two…newcomers…weren't going to be good at going along with the professional, detached persona he had attempted to begin this job with. Especially as one of those people was. Well. Himself. Hmm.
That's not what's been bothering him. Or, at least, not only what's been bothering him.
This New Martin was… very different …than the Martin he had had the unfortunate opportunity to work with these last few weeks. Not completely, in fact there was quite a lot that was the same. But the parts that were different were obvious.
See, Jon was used to walking into the office space his assistants shared and seeing Martin, a fairly tall man, usually slouching in on himself to seem smaller or less threatening. He was used to quiet comments, usually liberally sprinkled with stutters and apologies, and usually accompanying a report with subpar formatting and incorrectly done citations. If not a report, he would usually be seen asking Jon if he wanted tea in that same quiet, stuttering, apologetic voice, to which Jon, as he’d been told a good boss should, would decline and continue with his work.
Usually the intimidating factor in their interactions was Jon.
And usually Jon didn't see Martin, the present Martin, so…disheveled?
Maybe disheveled was the wrong word to use. Unconcerned with the dress code?
Comfortable?
Distracting?
Yes– kind of. Maybe?
Hmm.
Either way, the new Martin seemed…more? Somehow?
More confident, more brash, more talkative.
More distracting .
Jon grit his teeth and shook his head slightly, dislodging the traitorous thought.
He had finally completed the reports he had been working on, still doing the job he was hired for, despite the change in personnel.
Jon stood up, taking in and slowly releasing a breath to better reinstate the professional mask he had tried to use since the moment he was promoted, and, honestly, for a bit of time prior to that, before pushing through the door and heading towards Document Storage.
He did not look at his assistants as he passed, looking instead down at his documents as though he was double-checking his work. He passed the desk that the newcomers were using for the time being and couldn't prevent his eyes from glancing quickly at his…self…who was currently slumped forwards onto the desk, cheek pillowed on his crossed arms and eyes half-lidded and drowsy, as has been the norm since they'd arrived, facing towards the general direction of his assistants.
Or , Jon grumbled mentally, more specifically, one particular assistant.
He heard a soft, amused huff from his doppelganger but didn't slow down to further investigate it and continued through to the dimly lit Document Storage area.
This time, he looked down at his load with intent, determining the locations they needed to go in the chaotic shelving that was still quite overwhelming to see.
He turned the corner into the stacks without looking up and nearly jumped out of his skin when he plowed right into the person he had been trying not to think about, dropping the folders onto the ground.
He immediately felt large, cool hands on his arms, preventing him from falling backward into an undignified heap.
“Careful, bit dark in here. Dangerous,” Jon looked up, seeing the slight amused lift of the lips and the bright, piercing eyes of Martin, framed by the white and ginger streaked curls that seemed to almost float at times.
See? Distracting.
Jon attempted to pull his expression back under his professional veneer, watching the soft smile grow into more of a smirk at the action.
“Don’t be ridiculous, it's Document Storage. I’m hardly in danger of anything more than a papercut.” Jon replied stiffly and a bit derisively.
“Sure, Jon,” Martin's smirk stayed firmly in place, undeterred by his attempt at verbal distancing, that, to be fair, would have easily worked on his younger self. However, this Martin knew he was full of shit, and had been around him long enough to not put up with it.
Jon's facade cracked with a small scowl at the non-reaction, but he swallowed it back quickly. Martin squeezed his arms slightly, ensuring he was steady on his feet, before releasing him and kneeling down, eyes peering up at him over his glasses, grinning outright now.
“Well, come on. Or were you just gonna let me clean up your mess?” Martin's eyes twinkled before he looked down, beginning to clean up the mess of paper on the floor.
“I–,” Jon's brow furrowed slightly at the comment before he too knelt down to grab the contents of a folder that had spilled out a bit farther than the others, deciding that a non-answer was the best response he was going to give.
They both worked in silence for a few minutes before Jon finally collected the folders he'd managed to recombine and stood up quickly, ready to be done with the unintentional interaction.
Martin stood up a bit slower, not in as much of a hurry. Watching the taller man stand up, Jon realized he had apparently moved closer to Martin during his file collection on the floor, as when Martin stood up and straightened his shoulders, Jon had to crane his neck backwards more than normal to actually look him in the eyes.
Jon was frozen, unused to such close proximity from…anyone, really, nowadays. But especially his much taller, slightly intimidating assistant.
Martin quirked an eyebrow, small grin still easily in place, and reached out a hand to casually fix the dark hair that had fallen out of place in Jon's haste to stand up.
Jon shivered slightly, I suppose leaving my coat at my desk wasn't a good idea.
“Jon?” Martin spoke softly, tilting his head slightly, amusement and affection lacing the word, “Did you want these back? Or were you just going to stare at me?” Martin asked the questions as though either were perfectly viable options that not only was Martin fine with, but used to.
Jon sucked in a quick breath and stepped back, right into a shelf. Martin reached out his free hand to grab him around his waist without thinking and pulled the shorter man into his chest reflexively, trapping the folders that had almost been lost for the second time between their bodies.
Martin giggled lightly, “I knew you were clumsy, Jon, but this is a bit much, I think.” He squeezed him slightly in a small mimicry of a hug before releasing him and holding up the small stack of folders he'd picked up, still grinning in amusement, hair floating slightly as though in a soft breeze.
Jon, still attempting to keep at least a modicum of professionalism, took the proffered folders and cleared his throat, “Yes. I–, uh. Thank you, Martin. You can go now.”
Martin's smile grew ever so slightly, eyes twinkling in what looked like mischief, “Oh, can I now? Not like I was already in here when you ran into me or anything, hmm?” he crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows pointedly.
“Ah,” Jon could feel a blush of embarrassment begin to rise into his face, “Uh, yes. My apologies, do. Um,” Jon had never been good at social situations when he was just himself and not acting as a character, and this had never been more apparent before this exact moment. “Did you find what you, uh, needed?”
“Yes,” Martin answered calmly before pointing to the shelf Jon had walked backwards into. “Just need to actually, um,”
Jon's eyes widened, “Oh. I'm s–, my apologies for interrupting you in your, uh, research?” His voice pitched upwards at the end of his sentence. “I know how annoying that can be.”
Martin huffed a laugh and uncrossed his arms, stepping forward slightly and leaning in and down , sliding easily into the space around Jon, eyes still locked intently on his. “Yes, Jon, I know how annoyed you get at interruptions , especially when they're bringing you tea, or asking if you've slept recently. How frustrating for you,” he was much closer now, so close Jon could count the scratches in his lenses if he could make himself break eye contact.
Martin's eyes flicked to the side slightly for a moment before returning to boring a hole into Jon's. His grin fell back into his initial amused smirk and he winked at the shorter man, enjoying the small flush he could see painting the tips of Jons ears and beginning to darken his cheeks.
“Don't worry so much. You'll be much more comfortable once you relax a bit.” Martin spoke slowly, softly. Not shy, or stuttering, but smooth and confident, not at all like Jon had heard his assistant Martin speak since they'd met.
Jon could feel his ears getting warm now.
“I'm n–, hmm. Martin, why, uh.” Jon did not appreciate the irony of Jon being the stuttering mess in this conversation.
Martin snickered, still leaning into his space, “Though, you were right, I'm enjoying the way you are now just as much as you said I would.” He leaned back out of Jon's space, pulling a folder out from the shelf behind Jon's head in the same movement.
Jon's face was finally fully overtaken by his blush as he realized that he'd just been blocking the shelf Martin had been looking for this whole time.
Martin, still grinning at seeing Jon, early days Jon, stick-up-his-arse Jon, flustered, opened the folder, double checked the contents, and shut it again as soon as he confirmed it was the correct one. He ran a hand through his slightly longer curls, shaking them out a bit before running his fingers through their length, allowing some of the lighter pieces to float softly about his head in a manner reminiscent of a halo. “Don't worry, we're all of us your friends, promise. No one wants to hurt you. Not maliciously, at least.” he let out a small chuckle.
Jon, who was not used to being flustered at all, much less by someone that he had never considered in a serious, potentially romantic way, took a breath.
It's not like he hadn't noticed Martin before all of this. Martin always had seemed like he'd probably give good hugs, and had a very expressive face. But it was in much the same way he'd noticed that Tim looked like he'd give very dramatic, but no less good, hugs and that Sasha always seemed like she'd fight someone for her friends at the drop of a hat.
But, well. He was their boss. In his experience, bosses were not meant to be friends with those under them. Not only that, but. Well. Martin wasn't exactly the most reliable, was he?
Just because he was a bit cute and seemed like a great cuddler didn't discount the fact that Jon couldn't trust his work.
Jon let out the breath he'd been holding.
Which is why Jon was always so confused as to why this new Martin needed to expend virtually no effort to render him a stuttering mess with reddened ears. Tim had managed to do this to him once or twice back when they worked together in Research, but that was Tim. Tim does that to most people.
Jon watched Martin's slightly longer, white-streaked curls fall messily back to the sides of his face. After a beat of silence, he responded, “Forgive me if I don't believe you, considering your last comment.” Jon narrowed his eyes slightly.
Martin's smile turned wry, “Ah, don't stress about it. It's all out of love, promise.”
Jon, now a bit more composed with the increased distance between them, squinted at him incredulously. Love? No one had even remotely acted like they loved him since. Well, since his grandmother passed. That was a depressing thought.
Martin's smile softened and he began to walk past him, reaching out with one hand to touch his shoulder lightly, “Don't think about it too much. You've already too much to think about to focus on that.” His smile brightened and he continued forwards, heading out the door and back to the office area.
Jon furrowed his brow in thought. Maybe he just…wasn't used to having friends? Anymore? It had been a while.
He shook his head and began to look for the correct location for the folders he'd brought in.
<¤> 《☆》 <¤> 《☆》 <¤>
Martin chuckled under his breath as he walked back towards his friends, and his Jon.
He'd forgotten how…proper Jon had tried to be at the beginning. Though, his forgetfulness was mostly due to his own anxieties roaring to the surface at any and all opportunities during that particular time in his life.
Which, Martin grimaced slightly, valid, I guess. Didn't exactly want to get fired immediately after getting a promotion.
He walked into the office area, smiled when he saw his Jon with a soft smile on his lips, sleepily gazing at his younger self, who was, apparently, very nervously just working on…something at his desk.
Martin continued on through, dropping the folder onto his and Jon’s desk and passing a hand lightly over Jon's hair, then sneakily stealing the pen Tim had been using while he was distracted by Sasha.
He walked into the break room and pulled out everything needed to make everyone tea.
<¤> 《☆》 <¤> 《☆》 <¤>
Jon walked back through the door to Document Storage, hands and eyes unfortunately no longer occupied. He glanced up instinctively as he walked into the office area, noticing everyone, including his older self, now happily nursing a warm steaming cup of tea. He frowned slightly, internally debating with himself on whether to go make himself a cup as well or to continue working.
He hadn’t realized he’d stopped walking until a figure blocked the light in front of him. He startled slightly and looked up, feeling a strong sense of deja vu when he saw a familiar smirk and brilliant eyes once again higher, and closer, than he was used to.
“Hello, fancy seeing you here,” Martin snickered, looking down at Jon for the second time that day. “Tea.” He reached out, grabbing Jon’s hand and using his own warmer hand to help wrap Jon’s around the mug.
Jon looked down at it before quickly flicking his gaze back up, “Oh. No, thank you, I–, uh, don’t need any tea.”
“Wasn’t a question,though, was it?” Martin grinned, either unaware or unbothered with the narrowed eyes he was now looking into. He shrugged, “Well, you have tea now. Drink it, dump it, feed it to Tim–,” at this his older counterpart let out a strangled sound of distress, causing Martin to roll his eyes slightly, “Sorry, feed it to yourself , then, needy. Either way, you have tea now.”
Jon opened his mouth to…do something, protest again, maybe? But froze when Martin reached up to cup his cheek with his tea-warmed hand. “I must warn you.” Martin’s voice grew soft and quiet, eyes still sparkling with mischief, “If you don’t drink it, it’ll make me very very sad, and I know there’s at least one person here who wouldn’t like that much.” He grinned and let his thumb stroke a single line across Jon’s cheekbone before turning around entirely and placing the other mug he had also apparently been holding onto his side of the desk nearby, moving around to sit right beside Jon’s older self, who almost instinctively scooted closer to him, leaning his head on Martins shoulder and smiling in contentment into his own mug of, assumedly, identical tea.
Jon looked down at the tea he was now holding and then back over to Martin, now looking up something on the computer while drinking his own tea and staying perfectly still as a pillow should. Jon looked back at the tea and tentatively took a small sip. He then made a sound of surprise and eagerness and took another, deeper, drink of the apparently perfect cup of tea. He began to walk back towards his office, now huddling into the warm mug, before he heard a throat clear next to him.
He turned to see Martin, the one who’d given him the tea, looking up at him with a single raised eyebrow, and, head pillowed on Martin’s shoulder, his own older face looking extremely smug for someone who was exhausted and cuddling into a mug.
Jon took another small fortifying sip, “Ah, uh. Yes. Thank you, Martin, it tastes…fine.” He could taste the lie on his tongue like ash, but bravely did not back down.
Martin snickered, “Uh huh, whatever you say, Jon.” Martin simply turned back to his computer, now thoroughly ignoring everyone else in the room. The older Jon just sat there, staring at him, smug as anything, and also looking quite content, actually.
Jon frowned and mumbled a quick “shut up, Jon” toward him…self before stalking off towards his office and shutting the door a bit louder than usual. And then immediately sitting down and cradling the heavenly cup of tea, letting out a quiet groan of appreciation.