recordingends | Open Post

"That's good." He yawns again, stretching in the bed. Martin turns, shifting a bit to face Jon before he reaches out to run his fingers through his hair. "You know, you should wear your hair down more often."

It was nice. Though he's making a mental note to himself to buy him actual hair ties instead of the rubber band he appears to be using right now. Ruber band! Those things hurt, Jon.

"It gets in the way," he says in almost a shy mumble as Martin's fingers brush along his scalp. That feels... nice. And it takes everything Jon has not to just lean into his touch like a cat. "It feels easier to just keep it back."

And rubber bands are convenient! It was what he had on hand to get his hair back. Jon hadn't considered going to find or buy something else.

Are you aware you're a cat, sir? Martin smiles, cupping his cheek. "Well yes, but... it looks nice."

Real eloquent isn't he? Martin can't stop the blush that creeps over his cheeks, how he chews on his lip as he just, sort of, stares at Jon. He's really lucky, isn't he? That Jon could like someone like...well like him.

Jon hesitates, but after a moment of just sitting there, looking at each other, he leans close to press a kiss against the corner of Martin's mouth. It seemed like the thing to do, and he doesn't know if it will reassure Martin or make things awkward, but he hopes very much it won't be the latter.

Oh. Oh his heart must betray him in this moment because he softens, much more so than he had before. It's such a tender thing, the kiss, and Martin is stunned for a second. How can one act seems so soft? So final? Like it assured him that yes this was real, this was happening, that Jon wasn't just--

Martin realizes that if he keeps staring stunned it might seem awkward and carefully, oh so carefully returns the kiss. As if he doesn't take care it's all going to disappear on him.

For some reason, Jon isn't expecting Martin to kiss him back. Maybe because it felt so unplanned in the first place, with no end game in mind other than the thought that it might be very nice to kiss Martin. And it is.

Jon leans closer even as he tips his head down to break the kiss. He could just stay quiet.

"So..."

But he doesn't.

“So...”

What’s to say? They’re safe in on this room where the world can’t hurt them. (He knows it’s not true, that every passing minute could bring this... whatever feeling this is crashing down on them.) They saves the worlds once, couldn’t it let them have a break before trying to go to Hell again?

“Are you... hungry?”

Jon laughs and realizes too late that he'd practically been holding his breath. He looks down between them, then reaches to retrieve his glasses from the nightstand.

"I think so," he answers. But eating for him is rather different these days, and the thought of doing it in front of Martin just seems... odd. Rude? He doesn't know. Surely Martin has no interest in listening to him read Statements into a tape recorder. And maybe that's not what Martin had in mind at all.

He could still drink tea. He could still eat food.

"I don't know if... if Daisy has anything in the fridge." He admits, watching as Jon retrieves his glasses. "Or anything at all really. I should have thought about that before I asked if you were hungry."

Martin covers his face with a groan. Then again, Jon's diet has... well changed a little. He could let him read a statement and run to the village to see if they had tea and some sort of food they could eat.

Jon laughs, quiet and not at all at Martin, just at the pair of them stumbling through this.

"I didn't think to stop in the village," he admits. "If--if you want to go down, I'll uh. I'll read a statement or two and be done by the time you get back."

That way they could have a proper meal if Martin wants, or Jon at the very least can drink tea while Martin eats.

Martin smiles, chuckling along with him. They were quite the pair, weren't they?

"That could work. Do you.. want me to pick something up for you? Anything specific?" Tea. Coffee. Ice cream. Does Jon like ice cream? Sweets?.

Oh. Oh my. It hits him, the realization he'll be learning things about Jon. Things that he's pretty sure no one else (but maybe Georgie) will know and how thrilling and terrifying that was. Does Jon want to know him that much? What will he think when--

No. No, he shouldn't think like that. He smiles softly. "I'll at least get some tea."

"I'll trust you," he says with a small, warm smile. "But uhm, you know. Sugar and milk."

Jon doesn't know why he bothers to say anything - Martin's known how he likes his tea for--for quite a while now. He'd once thought it was the only thing Martin could get right. He feels bad for his uncharitable thoughts now. He hopes he can make up the months of sharp and dismissive comments now. Martin certainly deserved better.

"Of course. Sugar and milk."

He kisses his forehead, sliding out of the bed so that he could go find his shoes. Maybe find a good book or two while he's out as well. Might as well have some sort of entertainment, right?

It's quite nice, actually. Jon watches Martin go and he lingers in bed for a little while longer before he goes to his bag. He grabs a few written statements and the tape recorder. It'll just turn on anyway, he might as well get it out. Jon settles on the couch to read a couple - he doesn't need much, he thinks.

He's gotten through them by the time Martin gets back. He even found a kettle to get water started for tea.

"I'm back!" He calls out, kicking the door closed behind him then toes off his shoes.

The village was nice, actually, quaint and pleasant, no one really worried about two English blokes showing up out of the blue. They kept asking if he was on holiday and you know what? Yes. Yes, they were on holiday, thank you for asking polite bookseller. Martin was rather glad that they weren't an antique collector because that would be the last thing he needs.

"I got a few things. Milk, sugar, ice cream, dinner supplies for a few days." Hopefully, they wouldn't waste any of the food. "I hope I didn't go too overboard."

He makes his way into the kitchen, daring to kiss Jon's temple as he sets he newly purchased reusable bags onto the counter (5 pence for a plastic bag? Come on just get rid of them and use all reusable ones!) digging out the supplies.

Edited 2020-06-05 00:36 (UTC)

Jon smiles at the kiss to his temple, getting used to how casual it could be. He isn't an overly affectionate person, and so it takes him a bit to get used to the idea. But it's just the two of them, so there's no one to feel flustered around except Martin.

Not that this will stop Jon.

"I got water going for tea. Do you want help putting things away?" he asks as Martin starts unloading the bags.

"I found some tea! Came recommended from an old lady." He pulls out the tin and shakes it. "If you don't mind. I could get something small made, for the two of us if you want to eat something."

Normally was the word he thought of, but this was Jon's new normal. So with his mouth? How do you begin to change what words you use to describe something that wasn't thought about before?

"If not I bought myself some soup!"

Jon works on putting away what Martin's bought, and maybe he's just the slightest bit nosy about it. Curious. He looks over at Martin and nods a bit.

"I'll--I'll eat a bit with you." Just a small portion, he thinks. He likes the idea of a quiet dinner with Martin, especially if Martin's going to cook. "I'd like to."

"Great! I'll get something started."

Thankfully, it's light, just a salad. Nothing too fancy (well unless you consider goat cheese fancy), but spinach, strawberries (strawberries!), goat cheese, and some walnuts. He'll cook something more tomorrow. The idea of tomorrow was so foreign to him.

"Here." He sets down a small plate. "I saw the strawberries and I couldn't resist."

Jon can't remember the last time he had a salad that looked this appetizing. He's content to settle at the small table to eat with Martin, to have tea and salad rather than anything more traditional. It feels perfect. Good.

He's... happy.

"It's good," he says after a few bites. Jon stretches his leg out beneath the table and lets it rest against Martin's. "Was there anything in the village worth seeing?"

Martin smiles, enjoying the contact of Jon's leg under the table. It's... it's really nice to just have these moments. It's almost like he's stealing them away and keeping them close so the outside world couldn't take them back.

"There's a book store-- a new book store. I checked. No antique books anywhere to be found." Which was a relief. They really didn't need to encounter a Leitner on their make-shift holiday. "Oh. I got you a few books."

"Did you?"

Jon actually looks a bit touched when Martin mentions the books. He's grateful that there's a relatively low chance of them running into any Leitners--how many are there, he wonders? He should have asked. At least now he knows what the damn bookplate looks like.

Part of him wants to stay holed away in the cabin, but maybe he'll go out. With Martin.

"Thank you, Martin. Maybe we can talk another walk down tomorrow."

"Yeah? It's a nice walk. There are some Highland cows on the way to the village. I don't think I've seen them up close before."

He's never been to the country before. It was quiet (maybe too quiet), the air was fresh, the people were nice... maybe he should go to the country more often. Especially if it meant he was with Jon.

"I think the fresh air would be nice for you."

"I'm perfectly fine without fresh air," he insists, but there's a smile in his voice, hiding in the curve of his mouth as he looks over his glasses at Martin. When he finishes his salad, Jon sits back with his tea, cradling the mug close and slumping a bit in his chair.

"I'm not a terrier... but I suppose walks might be nice."

"Fresh air is good for everyone." He shakes his head, pushing aside his empty plate. "You should get out more! We could make it a daily thing to just... explore the countryside."

He smiles, brushing his foot against Jon's leg.

"I've never been to the countryside, you know? At least, I don't think so." He leans on his hand. "It's quite nice out here. I think I rather fancy it as long as I'm with you."

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