Chapter Text
“Tim, I’m begging you.”
“You know I would, Jon. I love fancy events with lots of food and dancing!”
Jon cringed just thinking about fancy events and Tim threw him a sympathetic look.
“But I got these concert tickets…”
“You're ditching me for a concert?”
“I paid £400 for the tickets!”
For a moment Jon considered just paying Tim the £400, if that would make him join him, but even he had to admit that would be ridiculous. It was just one evening and Tim was right, he’d gladly joined him during the last family gathering.
He looked for Sasha, who just shrugged at him. “Me coming with you wouldn’t help, would it?”
“No,” Jon admitted with a sigh. His family would have a fit if he showed up with a woman, on top of everything. He was already a disgrace for not dressing appropriately and ‘playing’ at being a man.
“Sorry,” Tim said again and with a deep sigh, Jon leaned against his desk.
“No, you’re fine. This is my problem, not yours.”
“Your real problem will be that everyone will ask about me.”
Tim made it sound like he was teasing, but unfortunately he wasn’t wrong. Jon had brought him as a plus one once, and as expected, his whole family had fallen for him. His great aunt had sent him a list of wedding venues just a week later, much to Tim’s amusement.
“I think I’m gonna trip down some stairs, break a few bones,” Jon muttered under his breath and tried to sound like he wasn't actually considering the idea.
“Just don’t go,” Sasha told him. “Your family has been nothing but awful towards you. I don’t know why you bother.”
“Not that easy.”
She shrugged and turned back to her work. Something he should be doing as well, but it wasn’t like he could focus. The wedding was drawing closer, and Jon could sense a looming disaster.
Meeting his family always ended that way.
Tim looked honestly sorry, but it wasn’t like it was his fault either. Best to put on a brave face and brace for impact.
“Ask Martin. You know he won’t say no.”
Probably not. Martin was fine, and after their rocky start, they got along all right. But besides heading to a pub on Fridays, they hadn’t hung out outside of work, and even those occasions had been with Tim and Sasha.
Also, and that was an ugly thought, but Jon couldn’t shake it off, Martin would not only have to endure the venom his family would spit at them, he would also be compared to Tim.
Tim, who had pulled all the attention away from Jon, and put on a show. That was just what Tim was good at, and he had left quite an impression on his family.
If Jon showed up with quiet, awkward Martin of all people…
Well, it would be seen as a downgrade.
The person in question chose that moment to enter the bullpen, hair plastered to his skull, and a bag safely tucked against his chest.
“It’s raining,” Martin pointed out, quite needlessly, and Jon had to press his lips together not to smile.
“Didn’t you take an umbrella with you?”
“Does it look like I took an umbrella with me, Tim?”
He noticed Jon then, and his eyes darted away.
“I got cupcakes for everyone. Here, Butterscotch, right?”
Butterscotch was indeed a good pastry choice and Jon gladly took one.
“That wasn’t necessary,” he said, just to make sure.
“I can’t be the only one with a cupcake!”
Very considerate. Then again, Martin always was. He wouldn’t leave Jon hanging; Jon didn’t doubt that. Whether Martin could handle his family was the question.
He made his way back to his office, to get some work done but couldn’t focus on it. The wedding was next week and he would have to make a decision soon.
Either follow Sasha’s advice and not go, but while that had been his kneejerk reaction, it was his only family left.
Go alone? That would mean a whole day of pointed comments and pitiful looks.
Or ask Martin. Not like Jon had a parade of young bachelors just waiting to spend a day away from London, celebrating the marriage of strangers.
A knock on his office door made him look up. It was Martin, because apparently someone wanted to nudge him to make a decision.
“Heard you hadn’t started recording.”
Yeah, because Jon had spent the past minutes staring at the statement and he hadn’t so much as taken in the name of the statement giver.
“A tea with your snack?”
It wasn’t a question, the tea was already in Martin’s hand. Jon watched him put down the mug, a bright purple one with cutesy cartoon cats on it. The cats were wearing bows and top hats, like any cat in their right mind would let that happen to them. But it had been a Secret Santa gift from Tim, so Jon couldn’t just throw it away.
“Close the door, will you?”
“Oh, yeah. Of course! Sorry for bothering, I will just-”
And Martin proceeded to flee his office like Jon was throwing things at him. He barely caught him before he could disappear.
“No, Martin. From inside. I wanted to talk with you.”
That didn’t help with Martin’s nervousness, but he slowly stepped back into Jon’s office. “Is… is something wrong? If it’s about the Miller-case, I am waiting on a reply from his workplace and-”
“I wanted to ask you something private?”
“Private?”
“Yeah, if that’s fine with you?”
Didn’t look like it. Martin still seemed ready to bolt, shoulders around his head like that could make him smaller. But he finally closed the door and sat down.
“Am I in trouble?”
Not yet, but Martin hadn’t met his cousin. A horrid little man with quite an ancient view of the world.
“I’m invited to a wedding next week, and my life would be much easier if I could show up with company.”
Martin blinked at him. His hair had dried into a cloudlike texture on his head and a curious part of Jon wanted to touch it. Probably not right now, by the looks of it, he’d already shocked Martin enough.
“Am I supposed to ask Tim for you?”
“What? No, Tim had other plans for that weekend.”
“Oh, so should I… look into some sort of escort service?”
Huh, that was an option Jon hadn’t considered. He entertained the idea for a second or two before dismissing it. The needling questions of his family, plus a stranger to entertain all night sounded like an actual nightmare.
“I was thinking you could be my plus one?”
Martin’s face did a couple of very complicated things. Shocked, flattered, and Jon was pretty sure there was also fear in there somewhere. Hard to tell by how quickly blood rushed into his cheeks and drained again. Good thing Martin was already sitting down.
“Me?”
“Obviously, you don’t have to. I’m asking not as your boss but as…” He struggled with that one for a moment, but his eyes fell back on the cupcake and tea. “Your friend.”
He was pretty sure Martin reached down to pinch his leg, like this was a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.
“I don’t have anything to wear.”
“It’s an indian wedding, but you’ll be fine with a simple suit. I also plan to rent one. Of course I would cover the cost, seeing as you are doing me a favour.”
Martin’s eyes darted down, like he had only just noticed Jon’s dark skin.
“I’ve never been to an indian wedding.”
“I’ve been on too many, so I'll guide you through it. However the wedding is outside of London, so we will have to stay the night.”
Martin made the most curious noise at that. A mixture of a half-deflated squeaky toy and drowning on land.
“I have to warn you though, my extended family can be quite difficult.”
Somehow, that of all things seemed to snap Martin out of his shock. “Oh, that’s fine! I’m used to difficult families!”
Doubtful. Martin hadn't met his family.
“So, you’ll do it? I don’t want to keep you from your weekend plans.”
Martin huffed. “What weekend plans? I’m currently living in my workplace, Jon. The only thing I’m doing during the weekends is waiting for Monday.”
“Right.”
“So I have no issues at all with being somewhere that is not here.”
Jon should be relieved, right? A part of him surely was, but now he was unsure about… well, Martin. They hadn’t spent that much time together, and even this short conversation felt like it had drained most of his energy. But well, too late for doubts now.
“Well, thank you for this, Martin. I’ll fill you in on the details?”
“Sure! Sure, I- um, should get back to work. That Miller-case and all!”
An awkward smile, a wave, and Martin fled his office. So far, so good. That was one problem solved, so Jon could finally get back to actually doing his work.
Or- well, there was still his cupcake and the tea. A short break wouldn’t hurt. A treat for not screwing up this conversation. Nobody could blame him for not letting his cupcake go stale, right?
That’s how Tim found him. Crumbs on his shirt and frosting on the tip of his nose, because Tim didn’t knock and wait. Tim just opened the door and then stood there, grinning.
If it were anyone else, Jon would’ve snapped.
“What?” Jon asked instead, only for Tim’s grin to grow bigger. “What is it?”
“Got yourself a date, bossman?”
Jon rolled his eyes and didn’t bother answering.
“Ditched me the first chance you got.”
“Not only was it your idea to ask Martin, but you also ditched me first!”
“Player.”
“Oh, shut it!”
“Do you need any help?”
Jon looked up from his mirror image. The hotel room had a full-length mirror that showed too well how trussed up he was in his saree. Taking the pin he held between his teeth out of his mouth, he nodded.
“Could you hold this part?”
Martin stepped behind him and Jon watched him through the mirror. He looked handsome, the midnight blue suit combined with an azure button-down complimented his eyes. Something was different with his hair, he must’ve slicked it back, which Jon figured did look neat. It still felt a bit off.
“Oh. Oh, that’s soft.”
Martin let the fabric of his saree run through his hands in wonder.
“It’s silk.”
“It’s absolutely beautiful.”
Yeah it was. The blues and purples swirling together in faint flower patterns.
“It was my grandma’s and she got it from her mother.”
“So like an heirloom.”
“Basically. They expect me to wear it.”
With Martin’s help, it was easy to pin it over his right shoulder and wrap the ends around his middle. That way it at least didn’t look too much like a dress. It was just fabric and nothing more, but even just wearing it like this, reminded him too much of his childhood. His grandma had been rather lenient with him, but not while visiting family.
“Is it too tight?” Martin asked and Jon tried not to look like he’d just bit into something sour.
“It’s fine. I just don’t like it.”
“I think it suits you.”
Jon sighed. He knew Martin didn’t mean it like that and this would be far from the only comment about his appearance today. Or the worst.
“Thank you. Ready to go?”
The hall was grand, drenched in glittery light, gold and cream. The people in their colorful clothes were moving around like flowers on a pond. Jon had visited many weddings and had few pleasant memories about the celebrations, but he could appreciate the aesthetic.
Next to him, Martin gasped. “Oh, this is well fancy.”
“You don’t want to know how much this costs,” Jon murmured as he threw his envelope in the highly decorated box at the entrance. There were already a ton of people milling around, and he took hold of Martin’s arm to not lose him.
They weaved through the tables, searching for their seat and that might as well decide the rest of the evening for him. Maybe he got lucky and was placed with strangers, or at least someone younger but-
He saw his great-aunt from afar and already knew he would be seated with her. She was the closest family he had left, which unfortunately also meant she felt responsible for his life decisions.
This was going to be a long evening.
He steered towards the table when he noticed that Martin had stopped. Jon turned to find him talking with one of his cousins.
Great.
He only caught the tail end of the conversation but it wasn’t anything new. Taking hold of Martin’s arm again, he physically dragged him away without so much as a hello. Not like his cousin had bothered with a greeting.
Martin looked a bit shellshocked.
“I warned you about my family.”
“Yeah but…” He was struggling with his words before asking, “Why was that guy mad at me?”
“Let me guess? He was annoyed that you let me walk around like this?”
Martin nodded. “What’s wrong with how you dress? Seems appropriate to me.”
“Well, you’re not stuck in the past where a single transperson is enough to shake your worldview.”
Martin stopped in his tracks, which meant Jon had to stop as well. Not like he had the strength to move Martin. He was just about to ask what was wrong when Martin beat him to it.
“You’re trans?”
For some endless moments Jon could do little more than stare at him. Which was fair, considering Martin did the same to him. Then he paled and brought both of his hands up.
“Sorry. Sorry, that was insensitive of me! I just-”
“You didn’t know?”
“You never told me!”
“I thought that was an open secret, or that at least Tim told you.”
Martin frowned. “Tim wouldn’t do that.”
Oh, because Martin could’ve taken that badly. Jon wasn't the best judge of character, but that wasn't something he had worried about, at least not with Martin. Still, it was better to make sure.
“Does that change things?”
“Oh god no! No, Jon. This is just… a lot.”
Yeah, it probably was. Huh, Jon had wondered how to fill the two-hour drive to the hotel, and this would’ve been a wonderful time to prepare Martin for the evening.
Too late now, and he could only watch Martin scrambling to put all the pieces together. His eyes darted from Jon’s face, to the saree he was wearing, back to his cousin, who was still glaring daggers at them.
“I kinda threw you into the deep end, sorry.”
“So this is what this is all about? Your family is all-”
“Oh yeah. If you wouldn’t be here, my great-aunt would’ve found an opportunity to introduce me to a very promising bachelor.”
“What, like an arranged marriage or something?”
“Still very much a thing in my culture.”
Martin gaped at him, and he could see the panic daring to take over. Jon wasn’t any better. This was going to be a disaster and he couldn’t blame Martin for it. Tim had made it look so easy and Jon had just assumed-
People were pushing past them to get to their seats and Jon was pretty sure he could feel the piercing eyes of his great-aunt. Was it too late to flee?
“So what do you expect me to be tonight?” Martin asked breathlessly.
“Be that promising bachelor? When I’m already in a relationship, they won’t try to get me into one.”
Martin took a calming breath and nodded, mostly to himself. “Promising bachelor, got it. I can do that.”
Could he?
Even at the best of times his confidence in Martin wasn’t sky-high, but it was just one evening. Jon just had to make it through a couple of hours until he could disappear.
“Ready?”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay-”
His great-aunt was already waiting for them, her dismissive eyes darting first over Jon’s slacks and button-down, then the saree. Finally she found Martin and her smile was cold and cutting.
“Jonathan, so glad you could make it.” As always she said his name like it was a joke, a nickname of a petulant child.
Jon’s fingers dug into Martin’s arm before he realized what he was doing. He let go to kiss her cheek.
“It’s always a pleasure to see family,” he lied before pointing towards Martin. “Dadi ki bahan, this is Martin.”
They exchanged the usual pleasantries, and at least she let them sit, before she started with her interrogation.
“Now, Martin, what do you do for a living?”
From this point on Jon could already see how this evening would stretch on. The fake interest in both Jon’s and Martin’s workplace, the glances Jon would receive, so full of pity. That’s what had happened with Tim, even with all his charm.
A researcher? His great-aunt had asked once she got him alone. You could do better if you just decided to stop this act and-
“I’m a surgeon.”
Jon’s train of thought derailed and he just hoped he didn’t look as surprised as his great-aunt.
“A surgeon? How… surprising.”
“It sounds more exciting than it is. I’m not someone who saves lives for a living.”
“He doesn’t,” Jon agreed. He tried to catch Martin’s eyes, but then had to glance away before bursting into laughter.
“Don’t all surgeons save lives?”
“Less stress and more money being a plastic surgeon.”
Martin had found out about the situation not even five minutes ago and Jon had no idea where that story was coming from. Not that he was complaining, his great-aunt actually looked mildly impressed, which was certainly new.
“I was thinking our Jonathan looked slightly different.”
Oh really? Because Jon couldn’t remember changing anything besides getting a couple of grey hairs over the years. He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth to hide his smile.
Martin didn’t miss a beat.
“But it looks quite natural, doesn’t it?” Martin threw his arm over the back of Jon’s chair. “He might be my best work. Truly a masterpiece.”
Jon disguised his snort with a cough. He leaned into Martin’s arm and looked at his great-aunt challenging.
“Dadi ki bahan, how’s your family?”
What followed was the usual spiel. How her daughter had married into a good family, and her son was doing well for himself. A lawyer, as far as Jon remembered. Usually his dadi ki bahan would not shut up about that, but she moved on quickly. Maybe a lawyer didn’t hold a candle against a surgeon.
Oh, Martin’s next lunch would absolutely be paid by Jon.
Finally his great-aunt excused herself to mingle. Probably to tell everyone who would listen about the new surgeon in their family.
“I think you need to disclose every other employment to your boss,” Jon teased and watched the red rise in Martin’s cheeks. His arm quickly left his shoulders.
“Too much?”
“Not at all. Quite brilliant, actually.”
Martin’s blush only deepened. “You said something about a promising bachelor, and what’s more promising than a doctor? But I was worried that people would ask questions if I said that, so I thought a plastic surgeon was close enough. And… well, I was watching a bunch of House compilation last night because I couldn’t fall asleep.”
Jon burst into laughter. He didn’t mean to, and he certainly hadn’t expected this from today. Usually family gatherings were more of a bite-your-tongue-and-smile affair, but this was too good.
Martin smiled tentatively. “You’re not mad at me?”
“Why would I be? You cut down my interactions with my dadi ki bahan by at least 30 minutes. You can only listen to a list of men who are ready to meet me if I just change my appearance for so long.”
“Hot singles in your area,” Martin muttered under his breath, which just sent Jon into another laughing fit. Martin looked unreasonably proud before his face softened.
“I’m sorry your family is like that. That must be rough.”
“We can’t choose family, and in some way, I know they mean well. In their own, very backward way.” He spotted his great-aunt across the hall and shivered, when he saw her talking to a group of women.
“Do you know how to dance?”
Now there was panic on Martin’s face again. “Not… not particularly well.”
“Good, me neither. But I would like for you to ask me to dance, because if these aunties over there come over, we will not leave this table for the rest of the night.”
Martin stopped breathing and oh, Jon hadn’t even considered that Martin might not even want to dance with him. He was already doing so much, coming here, lying to Jon’s family, and now he was demanding even more?
But then Martin got up, buttoned up his suit jacket and offered his hand. The perfect gentleman.
“Dance with me?”
“Gladly.”
The evening was going well. Actually, better than well. Jon nearly dared to enjoy himself.
All his family seemed impressed that someone like him could score a plastic surgeon, and while that wasn’t enough to get rid of all the glares towards him, it made them easier to ignore. There was also the fact that Martin was, well, Martin. Tall and broad and always close by, so that neither of his aunties could take Jon aside, and berate him over the way he dressed or acted. It was refreshing.
And Martin was sweet. A part of Jon had known that Martin was nothing but kind to an extent that honestly had gone on his nerves quite a bit. An overbearing care that Jon shied away from like a cat from water.
Tonight he didn’t mind it too much. Positive attention wasn’t something he was used to while with his family. And that’s what Martin was giving him.
Arms pressed together or an easy hand on his shoulder. Casual touches that were always kept appropriate but showed everyone that Jon wasn’t on his own.
Or the small hiccup when Martin had brought him a glass of wine, and the resulting explanation that people looked down upon women drinking alcohol.
“You’re not a woman though.” The way he had said it, in childlike petulance, like it was a simple fact.
“You surprised me today,” Jon told him after Martin had so easily lured him away from yet another conversation that had turned way too personal.
The dancefloor was always crowded, but the music was loud enough to cover their conversation in between the other pairs. Martin had asked him to dance a total of three times already. It was an easy excuse to get out of tense situations.
“When I brought Tim, we spent most of the time laughing about how stupid my family was. That was fine, and he was charming towards them. Everyone loved him because, well…”
“Because he’s Tim.”
“Right.” Jon wrapped his arms around Martin’s neck without much thought. The awkwardness of the first time was gone, maybe because now that Jon was ‘allowed’ to drink wine, he’d taken a bit to it.
Martin hesitated a moment before putting his hands around his waist. A soft, barely there touch that Jon could barely feel over his saree. Martin had stopped after one glass of wine, and he didn’t have to explain why. He was staying vigilant, sharp. On the lookout for people who meant harm to Jon with their pointed words and sharp tongues.
Again, something that would usually get a visceral reaction from him. Tonight, Jon was basking in it. Mostly because he could feel his family watching, talking, and for once, they couldn’t reach him with their poison. No matter what they had said to him before, about being a disgrace to the family and how he would die alone, if he didn’t change-
Well, here he was with a surgeon who anticipated his every wish.
And of course, the wine. That might be a reason as well.
“So how am I faring?” Martin asked him and tugged a little on his body to get him to move. Right, Jon had kinda just stood there. Not that they were really dancing. Just swaying.
“It’s like you learned their rules and used them against them. Beating them in their own game. It’s honestly impressive.”
Martin’s eyes met his for a few heartbeats before they slipped away. That was fine, neither of them was good with eye contact.
“Guess that’s only fair, you also surprised me tonight.”
“I did?”
“You being trans, Jon.”
“Right, right. Really thought you knew.”
Martin huffed and Jon couldn’t help but grin, a bit sheepishly.
“That could’ve ended badly.”
“If I would’ve been an asshole and made a scene about it? Yeah, I’d say.”
“But my family would’ve loved you.”
Martin laughed, his eyes shining, a strange trick of the light here, surely. Well, Martin hadn’t been an asshole, and this evening turned out better than Jon could ever imagine.
All the days worrying about this wedding, the feeling of impending doom he’d carried with him, like he was constantly bracing for impact. It was all gone now, and he allowed his heavy head to rest against Martin’s chest.
Tomorrow he would chide himself for that weakness, about how inappropriate this was, but he was so tired. His life was in such a state of disarray ever since he took the position as head archivist but- but here, under golden light and hundreds of people around, all of that seemed so far away.
Martin had stopped moving, actually, he might’ve stopped breathing, like that would disturb Jon. But then his arms wrapped around Jon’s middle, warm and gentle. Not pulling or prodding, but rather like a shield, keeping all that badness at bay.
If only Jon could keep that feeling, bottle it up, to keep close to his heart whenever the world seemed too overwhelming. But that wasn’t possible. So for now, he closed his eyes to keep the glittering lights and the too familiar faces at bay. Just for a little bit, a few seconds, a heartbeat-
Martin’s steady hand on his arm brought him securely to their hotel room, and Jon just faceplanted into bed. It was late, long after midnight and his feet hurt and his head buzzed.
Somewhere behind him, Martin laughed.
Maybe that had been too much wine. Or too much of that cherry liquor that still coated the back of his throat. Sickening sweet and still Jon hadn’t hesitated to drink it, if only because it would piss off his family. An unreasonable action, of course. Childish, like a teen breaking the rules. Maybe that was exactly it, during his actual teens, his grandmother had an iron grip on his life, and he hadn’t dared to rebel against her.
Maybe he did now, dressing how he wanted, drinking if he desired, and showing up with a boyfriend who wasn’t even indian. Thinking about it-
“You should get tattoos.”
“Sure,” Martin easily agreed and then worked to get Jon’s shoes off. Which Jon could do himself, thank you. After he could lift his heavy head out of the blanket.
“There’s only one bed, so..?” Martin pointed out but Jon just huffed.
“Two beds. There’s a latch at the bottom holding them together.”
“Oh.” And then, a little quieter than before. “Oh. Yeah, of course. Makes sense.”
Jon opened one of his eyes to watch Martin get to his knees in search of the latch. He struggled a bit, before Jon could feel the beds separate. Or at least as far as they could without Jon getting lost in the crack.
Martin looked up, something amused in his face, like he was waiting for him to move, but the expression slipped away. Maybe because they were very close right now and Jon smoothed down the blanket to see him properly.
“Thank you for coming here with me, Martin.”
Martin’s eyes darted away, and a healthy redness spilled in his face. Did he have more alcohol than Jon had thought?
“Don’t… don’t mention it. I had good food and-” He seemed to choke on whatever he wanted to say next, before adding, “And an actual bed! Can you imagine not sleeping on a cot for a night?”
“True luxury.”
“Right? So we’re even.”
Jon didn’t think so, but he was also all done with thinking for a while now. He closed his tired eyes, fully aware that Martin was still watching him, and drifted off.