recordingends | Open Post

"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."

Jon's done a lot of traveling, but he's never been out like this just for the sake of being out. Not in a long time, anyway. A small smile lingers on his lips as he takes a sip of his tea.

His face warms at that. As long as I'm with you.

"That sounds nice," he concedes at last. "Come on, let's see if that old set picks up the BBC."

"Oh gosh, what do you expect to be on the tellie out here?" He laughs as he collects the plate from Jon and goes to put them in the sink.

What sort of station will they end up watching while they're here? He sets the dishes in the sink, rolling up his sleeves.

"I'll clean up in here. Why don't you get comfortable and I'll be out in a moment?"

Jon thinks they can at least get a few BBC channels, though he won't hold his breath for much else. He leaves the table and brings his mug with him. There's no remote that he can find so he fusses with it by hand until he finds something vaguely promising. And all that vaguely promising means is that it's not a news cast.

He settles onto the very plaid couch with his tea and waits for Martin.

Dishes washed and put away, Martin brings his tea to the living room, thankful that Jon isn't watching the news. That's the last thing they need, isn't it? To watch the news and wonder what would come up.

"So, what's on?" He asks as he takes a seat next to him, setting his tea on the side table.

"Old episode of Midsomer Murders?" he takes a guess as Martin joins him. As the cushions shift, Jon lets himself drift with gravity until he's leaning against Martin's side. Hope you weren't expecting too much personal space, Martin.

"Downton Abbey? I honestly haven't been paying attention."

Something dramatic and vaguely period.

"Downton Abbey is a poor mans Upstairs, Downstairs." He mutters as he wraps his arm around Jon's shoulder.

Oh. Oh, wait a minute. Is that Alfred Harris? He blinks, surprised that they are even showing Upstairs Downstairs. Maybe it's because they are in the countryside or maybe BBC has decided that this time of day is just perfect for old television shows.

"It's Upstairs Downstairs, actually." He sounds absolutely pleased at it. "It aired in the 70's. Mum had them on VHS."

"I can't say I've ever actually watched either," he admits as Martin's arm wraps around him. Maybe his grandmother watched? Jon never paid attention. He tips his tea and watches the screen a bit more intently, since apparently Martin has opinions.

"Is there actually a difference? Still the same structure, basically."

Servants downstairs, aristocracy upstairs, human drama and so on.

"I always thought that Upstairs Downstairs was more... realistic? Less dramatized because of the time era it took place in. They had an entire arch revolving around some of the Upstairs perishing during the sinking of the Titanic."

Sure there's a similar structure but Downton Abbey seemed more.. modern dramatic? Felt like it was stretching to the fantastical but maybe he's just nostalgic of sitting in the living room watching old tapes of the show when he was allowed.

The days he was allowed to just do things and be a kid.

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