recordingends | Open Post

"R-Really?"

He hadn't really expected a straightforward answer like that-- even with the early explanation of his history with poetry. Martin turns away, embarrassed, blushing because really, no one's told him that his poetry sounded nice.

"I'm glad." A pause. "I read some while you were in ...the weird coma. I didn't know if it'd work but... I thought well... I thought it couldn't hurt."

But it did hurt. A lot. More than he had anticipated and not because of some romantic notion that it would bring him back but reciting them to Jon thinking he wasn't coming back... he likely never heard them.

"Did you really?" Jon looks up at Martin. "How--how often were you there?"

Jon has no idea who came and went, only that he was trapped in nightmares for, what, six months? Christ, half a year gone. He knows the fact that he woke up at all is less of a miracle and more due to his choice to become fully what he is, but--but he'd wanted to come back. He hadn't wanted to just slip away and die.

"A lot. I lost track of time."

Some of it was because who else would sit by him? Who else would wonder if he was going to wake up? He didn't know if he had any remaining family, and between Jon and his mother... he felt helpless. Maybe that's why it was so easy to pull away once he made his choice.

"I was in the hospital a lot." He admits quietly. "I only stopped going when...well. You know the rest."

Jon sets his tea aside and shifts so that he can face Martin more. His scarred hand cradles Martin's face just to make the other man look at him. He wishes he could remember, hates that there is six months of his life that are just gone. And that Martin was there for so much of it.

"Thank you," he murmurs. Maybe he hadn't known at the time that there was someone who cared if he lived or died, but he knows now.

"You... you don't have to thank me for that, Jon." He smiles, relaxing into his hand. "It was the least I could do."

The least anyone could do. How could anyone not? Everyone left visited once in a while but he couldn't... he felt like he never left the hospital. He probably didn't, because he's pretty sure (everything was a blur) that his mother was brought to the same hospital. He just walked back and forth between rooms, mentally exhausted and ready to just--

It wasn't like that anymore.

"You shouldn't have to be alone through that." He leans forward and kisses his forehead.

Jon closes his eyes as Martin's lips press to his brow and he moves a bit closer, as much as he can.

"I hope you weren't."

He could know, but he's trying not to. His fingers brush over Martin's cheek and, after a moment, Jon tips his head up to give him a proper kiss. It still feels... very nice.

It still nearly takes him by surprise, cutting off his attempt to respond with a pleasant hum. Martin smiles against his lips, returning the kiss, eyes closing because this was much more tender than when they were in the bedroom. Truth about everything they were, everything that happened, everything that could be on the table for them to discuss and it's-- it's a wonderful feeling.

Jon feels his face get warm and his breath catches quietly. His hand slides to the back of Martin's neck and insinuates himself a bit closer. This is nice. It feels nice enough that he wants to keep doing it. He hasn't even thought of kissing anyone in ages, not since Georgie really.

But kissing Martin now... he thinks he could do more of this.

Martin is cautious, careful as he moves his hands to circle his waist. This was (wonderful, amazing, perfect) nice. Something he didn't think he'd have a chance for and his heart was nearly beating out of his chest.

He doesn't want to push too far, but doesn't want to not do enough -- is it weird to be thinking about how you balance something as silly as kissing? Kissing Jon was like a million fireworks going off, like the perfect cup of tea, like... like

Like everything.

Jon gets briefly distracted by the new sensation of Martin's hands on his waist. He breaks the kiss just enough to breathe and he feels warm and quietly flustered. He's still holding on to Martin and he realizes, rather belatedly, that he has one hand curled the front of Martin's sweater.

He swallows thickly and he wonders if he should say anything, if it would be proper to say something. God, how had he done this before?

(Awkwardly, and with little real success. As he recalls, Georgie kissed him.)

"Jon?" He's quiet, chewing on his lip. "Are you all right?"

He's not normally this nervous kissing someone! Though, he thinks to himself, when was the last time he actually kissed someone? Oh god. Was he moving too fast? No, no he steadies himself. That's what communication was for and they were adult men. They could do this.

But it has been quite some time since he dated someone, or bothered to anyway. He's gentle as he holds his waist carefully and kisses him again.

"Is this okay?"

"Yes, of course."

Bold of Martin to assume that communication is something Jon can handle. He's never really communicated about this before, only passive-aggressively did what he was going to do and let Georgie come to her own conclusions. That wasn't very fair of him, he knows that, but she'd also never pushed him after a point.

What will Martin think? Will he be disappointed or just cheerily cover it up like he does?

Jon tries to come back from the wash of self-reflection that he isn't prepared to have right now. It's just kissing.

"This is okay."

“Good. Good.”

They could talk about boundaries, about their wants, but right now Martin is caught up. He smiles gently, leaning to catch Jon’s lips again. It’s... it’s still electric. Such a simple at of affection and he’s able to express it with Jon.

He never thought they’d be here, and he knows he thought that earlier. Never thought that Jon would be interested in him. Who ever is? He didn’t really have friends before all this, Jon barely likes him but... now? Now it’s like finally accepting, in some small way, that people can like him for who he is.

They kiss again and Jon tries to let himself just sink into it. He tries not to get distracted by every minute feeling: the way Martin's hands move, the exact pressure of his lips and the warmth he feels when they part slightly.

When his mind starts wandering, he tries to turn his focus back to the moment. It's a weird tug-o-war that he doesn't really know how to win, or if there is any winning.

But if Martin likes it, that's what matters.

He wants to pull him close, to drag him into his lap so he’s not twisted at a strange angle but that might be too fast, might be too bold when this is all so very, very new. Innocently sleeping next to each other was one thing, but this? It’s so strange and exciting, he doesn’t want to mess it up.

So Martin pulls back, smiling at him as he finally dares to move one hand to cup Jon’s cheek.

“We can move slow,” he’s hoping that helps alleviate some of the worries they both have.

It is such a rush of relief to hear those very simple words. Jon feels himself blush, realizes he was quite worried about it, and he nods.

"I think--I think slow is good."

It buys him time, if nothing else, to think of how to bring things up. Jon isn't even sure how to talk about the way he feels on a good day, never mind in a relationship. He tips is head into Martin's touch, enjoying this kind of physical intimacy without much issue. Jon lifts his hand to cover Martin's and squeezes gently.

Martin settles back into the couch after a moment, moving to wrap his arm around Jon's shoulder and pulls him into his side again. Slow is good. They could ease into other things and just get to know each other.

"So, what are the plans for the day other than some television?"

Good food, good company, and good: what more could he want?

Jon relaxes against Martin's side and reaches to retrieve his tea. He sighs, sounding... content.

"No plans whatsoever," he admits. "The only plan I had was to get here."

He honestly hadn't thought much farther ahead than that and he wonders if he should have. But he isn't much of a planner. Not a good one, anyway.

"Not a bad plan at least. The couch is comfortable."

Which he didn't expect from Daisy. Maybe practicality for her was something more comfortable than attractive because plaid couch... was not the most modern choice. Was it? Martin had no idea. He just thought the couch was ugly.

He settles in, watching the as the show progresses, tea in hand.

"I guess the best parts of being out here are just... not needing a plan. We can take some time to think one through first."

Jon feels mildly called out when Martin says something about thinking a plan through. He's certain it's not a dig at his usual way of handling things, but it could be. Maybe even if it was, Martin has a point. He does go off half-cocked more often than he does. Ax to a table. Throwing himself into the Buried without a plan beyond get an anchor and go.

But this has nothing to do with all of that. This is just them.

He leans into Martin, only half-watching whatever's on screen. He's so damn tired. It feels easy to just breathe and sink against the warmth of another person. It's nice to have someone that doesn't mind him this close.

"Or just not make one at all," he says after a moment. "Just go as we like, whatever that is."

"It's weird, isn't it? Being able to just... not have a plan. Do you think we'll be able to do that?"

Jon and "plan" didn't really work in the same sentence. Did he really think things through? Martin certainly didn't think so but right now? Did it really matter? He's enjoying holding Jon, letting him settle into his side, making a place for himself, worming his way--

Okay as much as that analogy is used often, worm and worming must be removed from his vocabulary. Even the new 'oh worm' as funny as it was. Thanks Prentiss, you've ruined worms for him forever.

No worms, please. Jon rolls his eyes and gives Martin a small nudge, because now he's sure he's being teased.

"We should be perfectly fine. We're in a cottage in Scotland - we don't need a plan. Maybe a map, but not a plan."

"Oh yes, no plan but a map."

Now? Now he's teasing. Chuckling as Jon nudges at him. He nudges back.

"We could go into town together and see about getting a map."

Open Post

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject