Work Text:
Martin's clothes were... Nice.
No- really!- They were!
They were soft and comfortable and just a little bit out there to let any other... Members know that he too was a part of the community. It was incredible how they all just had a sense for it. The number of times Martin had happened to catch someone's eye walking down the street, they'd notice each other's outfits and give a look of acknowledgement was astounding.
However, Martin's clothes were anything but formal. So that's why when Elias informed them all via email that they'd all be required to attend a decorous event Martin couldn't stop the sense of dread falling over him. He'd spent the better part of the afternoon researching 'appropriate outfits for work events' but nothing felt quite right and he was starting to panic. The function was taking place on Sunday. It was Friday. Which meant Martin really only had Saturday to prepare! And he already had to work tomorrow until 6pm so all the nice clothes shops might already be closed and-
"Heyyyyy Marto!" Tim's cheery voice broke him out of his spiral as he, Sasha and surprisingly Jon all walked into the breakroom.
Martin closed every tab on his phone before smiling nervously at the group, "Hi." He said, feeling as though he should have said more. Despite this he was met with two smiles and a look of acknowledgement.
Sasha sat at the breakroom table with Martin while Tim and Jon seemed to actually work together to make various teas and coffees. Martin was ready to stand and help until Sasha grabbed his attention.
Not wanting to risk coming off as rude he sat at the table with her, listening intently to whatever she had to say. "So, Martin," she started "what do you think of this whole work bash?" The woman asked to which Jon audibly grumbled, making Tim snicker. Martin however tried to remain polite.
"Oh- well I... I'm not really sure what it's going to be?" He said dumbly, the confession made him want to walk into the ocean.
Luckily for him! Everyone agreed!
"Exactly! Is it dinner? A posh get together?"
"Can I wear suspenders?"
"Will there be alcohol?"
Jon's comment had everyone stunned for a few seconds before they all burst into fits of laughter. To this Jon startled and looked around the room with a furrowed, confused brow; "I... Thought we were all asking questions?" He surveyed.
The only response he got was Tim giving him a firm pat on the back, their boss scowled up at him and all comments were forgotten.
Before the conversation could move on Martin wanted to focus on what Tim had said, "struggling to pick an outfit too?" He prompted, immediately relieved when Tim nodded strongly.
"Ohhhhh yeah. Big time," he started and Martin huffed out an assured chuckle, "I mean- do I go for the 'Timothy Stoker lady killer' look with my classy black suit? Or go a bit jazzier with a short sleeved button up tucked into brown trousers?? It's just too much for me too think about!" All of Martin's hope shattered.
Only to make matters worse, Sasha added on "Oh but I loved that black tulle shirt you showed me! That with black high waisted slacks would look stunning!"
Martin must have physically sank into his despair because it was actually Jon who noticed his glum demeanour, "not a fan of fashion then?" He asks and Martin is grateful that he's been around Jon enough to know it probably isn't an insult. "Me either" he says after Martin gave him a pitiful look. Tim almost spits out his coffee but manages to choke it down.
The tallest assistant places his mug down with an eye roll "oh come off it Jon! You dress like everyday is a formal occasion!" Tim retorted.
"What? That's not true!"
"You're wearing a shirt, tie and vest."
"We're at work!"
Martin felt a fond smile decorate his features, and in a lighthearted tone he had to agree with his fellow assistant, "Yeah Jon... I mean- your style is really academic and frankly lovely but if this event is really going to be proper dress up then you can't just wear your... 'normal' clothes" Martin explained, he noticed Jon's brief surprise when Martin complimented his sense in apparel, looking down at himself and gently tugging on the material of his wool vest. It was sweet.
Thinking about it, Jon and Sasha seemed to have very similar aesthetics. Both enjoying deep browns and sharp silhouettes. Sasha took a sip of her tea before an idea visibly entered her mind, like a light igniting above her head; "Well..." She elongated, "since it looks like we may all need to get an appropriate outfit... Why don't we all go out shopping together?" Her eyes lit up and it was clear Tim was immediately on board and Martin had to admit that maybe if he went shopping with some people then choosing an outfit would be much easier!
Unfortunately, Jon cleared his throat with a quietly frustrated sigh, "we all have work tomorrow" he stated simply, imagining that would be the end of the discussion.
Jon really needed to start learning that Tim was not so easily swayed. The assistant draped an arm over Jon's shoulder, bringing his head down so he could talk to Jon more... Directly. The distain on Jon's face became very much apparent but Tim did not seem to notice. "Well boss," he began.
"This is an 'official work event' right?"
"Correct..." Jon answered hesitantly, already tired of Tim's games.
"And we need proper outfits or we'd be unprofessional-"
"Y-yes but-"
"Then it's settled!" Tim declared, giving Jon's shoulders a squeeze and shaking the man side to side. Surely this was some sort of workplace abuse??? "We all will go shopping tomorrow as a part of The Magnus Institute business! Hey! We can even use the company credit card" he mused.
Jon shook his head, this is ridiculous! It felt like recently no matter how desperately he tried to just get on with his job he'd always get roped into some sort of trivial activity! He needed to shut this down immediately. There was no way he was going to let his entire staff take a day off of doing actual work so they could go on a shopping... Trip...
Martin looked so excited. His rounded features now etched with a hopeful smile. Jon felt all hostility removed at once, as if the air from his lungs had been removed and cleansed... It is a perfectly content feeling that shocks Jon to his core.
His hands shake, the mug of tea in his grip beginning to waver before he suddenly places it on the counter, albeit slightly harsher than he intended as his three assistants freeze, awaiting his verdict or- more likely- his berating.
Jon freezes too, only for a second. He cannot look at Martin for whatever reason so the man just lets his shoulders sag with a tired sigh; "...Alright," he says "I will tell Elias we are off for work related reasons tomorrow. I know he won't appreciate the short notice but... Tim is, for once, correct." Tim beams, before he can ask Jon to repeat himself their boss continues. "We can meet at Knightsbridge Station, westbound Piccadilly line." His tone was sharp but his co-workers clearly felt like they had won, "11am. Don't be late."
Happy glances and mutters were exchanged across the room, Martin even spotted Sasha mouthing Tim a 'thank you' which honestly warmed his heart. He wanted to share the same sentiment with Jon but the man was already hurrying out of the breakroom and what looked to be the direction of Elias' office. No matter, he would thank Jon later in a perfectly professional way when the time was right.
* * * * *
Saturday arrived soon enough and Martin could not be more of an unhealthy mixture of excitement and dread. On paper the whole plan was very useful, this way he could find a nice set of clothes that his co-workers- friends- approved of and from the sounds of it he wouldn't need to be concerned over the price (though he was sure to not get his hopes too high on that front.) However, when Martin began looking into exactly where Jon had instructed them all to meet it all became a bit daunting. Every clothing shop in that general area looked so overbearingly sophisticated Martin was sure he'd feel, and look, completely out of place.
The idea of having to enter a changing room, barely closed with a thin curtain, and a full body mirror there just so you can see every inch of the clothes on your body that feel more like a costume. And then- no matter how awful you feel you're expected to show everyone you're with your disgrace as they give half smiles and squeeze out pathetic attempts at letting you down easily.
'Oh maybe that ones just not for you Martin'
'Why don't you try something a bit different Martin'
He does not want to see those expressions on Tim, Sasha or Jon.
Nonetheless he still made his way to Knightsbridge station, ten minutes early of course, and soon the entire group was together. With a stretch and a sigh Tim swivels his head around before his gaze lands on Jon; "So. Where are we headed Jonny?" He grinned.
Jon looked nothing short of baffled, double taking before his brow fixed in a state of discontent, "Tim you're the one who insisted on this pointless activity-"
"We already agreed it's not pointless and I want to see where you shop! You really do have the whole dark professional vibe going on" he gestured to Jon's outfit (brown tweed trousers, a long sleeved white button up and a deep green vest all topped with a brown wool coat.) Sasha and Martin nodded in agreement, if anyone was going to know where to look it would be Jon!
Martin watched as heat rose into Jon's complexion, his usual stoic expression now faintly littered with red hues and stunned at the sudden bout of compliments. As quickly as it comes Jon's face drops back into a numb scowl, "E-either way. I'm not choosing" he says firmly and Martin tilts his head down at the man, noticing how Jon shies away ever so slightly.
Thankfully Tim shrugs "alright, I get it, you wanna gatekeep your sources that's okay!" Jon looks like he's about to combust but Tim continues before he can, "I know a place that will really drain the institute's funds! You got that company card right boss?"
Jon deadpans.
"That's a yes," Sasha comments.
* * * * *
Eventually, after some questionable directions from Tim, the group made it to a very grand looking building. Across the front and going downwards was the word 'HARRODS'. If Martin had to describe this shop to someone he'd definitely say it looks like it belongs in a generic Christmas movie where the main characters completely go wild and wreak havoc wherever they go.
Christ, Martin hopes he's not somehow that character...
At the end of the day this place was Martin's worst nightmare; obnoxiously fancy and making him feel more than a tad insecure about himself. Nevertheless there was no way he could back out now, or make a good enough excuse to get himself away from the whole situation. Besides he needed this- he had no other choice really.
The group spent the next few minutes just browsing different sections of the many, many clothing departments. It didn't take long for something to catch Tim's eye, but that was to be expected, what was less expected was Jon and Sasha seeming to delve into quite an intellectual conversation regarding fashion from a historical standpoint. If Martin was being honest he was under the assumption that before the 2000s everyone just wore suits and hats. Martin is thankful he thinks before opening his mouth.
Against Martin’s will the day becomes a blur of price labels and fabrics. He watched as Tim and Sasha tried on a couple things which all looked incredible on the two- Jon had even tried out a black turtleneck which resulted in Martin needing to take a minute to himself because fuck he’s only human. Before he knew it Sasha, Tim and Jon had all picked out at least something for the event while his hands remained empty.
All this led to something Martin had been specifically trying to avoid: attention. His lack of decisions did not go unnoticed, and as he stared at mannequins that seemed to be judging him he suddenly identified that there was a new presence next to him.
“You haven’t picked anything,” Jon said.
Martin let out a pathetic chortle, “Hah- No. Suppose I haven’t.”
“Why not?” It's so upfront.
“W-what?” Martin stammers.
A bit slower this time, “Why haven’t you picked anything?” Jon reiterates.
“O-oh well uh- nothings really jumping out at me y’know? Don’t think this place is really my style-”
Jon painstakingly rolls his eyes, “oh nonsense there’s plenty of things in here that would look perfectly refined on you.” The compliment slips off of Jon’s tongue so easily that Martin has to do a double take to ensure he heard the man correctly. When his brain does not process a different sentence Martin is sure he’s gone cherry red. Jon turns to him before he can compose himself, “I actually saw something earlier that I thought you’d be a fan of. Could I…” He trails off.
Martin is at a loss for a moment before he catches on to what Jon is offering “o-oh! Yes! Please- That uh- sounds-... Yep” he sputtered, rubbing his hands over his face once Jon’s back was turned as he led him to another part of the store.
Jon spent the next thirty minutes helping Martin. Pointing out anything he thought his assistant would like or find more comfortable than what Tim’s idea of professional was. Martin couldn’t help the emotion swelling up in his heart at Jon’s sudden care and consideration. Sure maybe Jon just wanted the day to be over with and Martin was preventing that from happening-
No. No this was different. If Jon wanted to leave he was completely in his right to do so. No one was forcing him to be here and he already had his clothes planned out so… Jon wanted to do this. It becomes glaringly obvious that Jon is actually having a rather nice time styling the other man, holding up different items to Martin to see if they match his hair and complexion just right.
Martin is so besmitten that he almost forgets he has to try the clothes on before making a final decision. Oh well. For now he’ll live in the bliss that this is all shopping really is. The person you love most giving you soft smiles and glints of earnest amusement wherever they spot something they know you will adore.
* * * * *
Now here Martin stood. That Godforsaken changing room with three sets of eyes just outside waiting to be disappointed. Martin sees no need to delay his humiliation for long, the clothes Jon had helped him pick were admittedly very lovely but there was no way they’d remain so nice when he actually put them on.
With a heavy sigh Martin got changed, he didn’t dare face the mirror once he was done.
On the other side of the curtain, the three co-workers sat patiently, a quiet anticipation floating about the air. Jon, in particular, was quite curious to see if his ‘fashion tips’ actually held up. He’d never claim to be an expert but after almost a year of working with Martin he’d like to at least think he knew what the man liked.
Eventually the curtain was pulled back, revealing Martin. He wore light brown trousers in almost a tweed style, accentuated with a thick black belt. On his upper half was a deep chocolate coloured jumper, rib knitted and perfectly soft. Martin looked a bit tense, like he was preparing himself for something before Sasha gasped joyfully.
“Wow Martin! You look incredible!” She celebrated and Martin’s shoulders visibly relaxed in almost shock-relief.
“Woo!” Tim cheered.
A pleased smile spread across Sasha’s face, “it’s really lovely Martin.”
“You could get it Martin!”
“Okay Tim calm down” Sasha chuckled but Martin had already gone red.
As praise and adoration filled the space Jonathan Sims found himself only able to stare at Martin. That same feeling he had in the breakroom only this time it was so much more intense. Of course Jon was aware what the outfit was when he sent Martin to the changing room and he knew Martin would look… good. However he was never going to perfectly know how Martin would look until the reveal. And the reveal was…
His jaw clenches.
Martin looks beautiful.
Jon allows himself to just sit there and drink the other man in. The delicateness of Martin’s smile across his freckle-dusted face, his kind features that radiate comfort and seem to be the source of this thumping in Jon’s chest cavity. As his eyes trail up and down Martin Jon makes a discovery.
It is not the clothes he thinks are beautiful. It is Martin. Just Martin.
The archivist thinks back to as many outfits he can remember Martin wearing at one point or another. Every silly jumper, cottony cardigan, even his pyjamas when he was staying at the institute!
He was gorgeous in every memory.
Oh.
Oh
This was… Going to make things tricky.
* * * * *
Sunday rolled around and so did the anticipated event. Of course the archival team had to work before any of the festivities started so everyone opted to bring in their clothes and change after work.
Something Martin actually added to his outfit was the choice to wear a shirt and tie underneath his new favourite jumper. As he stood in the employee bathroom, staring into the mirror Martin was starting to consider sacking off the tie.
Because he had no idea how to bloody tie it.
In amongst his frustration he almost didn’t hear the stall behind him open, unveiling Jon and his apparel for the evening: black pleated slacks and a button up pecan shirt. The simplicity was all the more attractive to Martin. Jon had one hand in his pocket, the other being used to open the door, when he noticed Martin he let out a surprised hum.
“Oh- apologies Martin. I thought you had already gone upstairs, good thing I saw you otherwise I might’ve locked you down here” The man explained with a polite smile.
Martin flushed a rather flattering shade of pink before responding “Oh! Haha! N-no worries, like you said you found me so…” His words died on his tongue as the assistant refocused on attempting the tie again. Up, round- no round… Shit. Cross, round, up, through… Fuck!
“Would you like some help with that?”
The sudden break in silence makes Martin yelp. There’s a fair few seconds where he and Jon are just staring at one another, and it almost looks like Jon is about to retract his offer out of sheer embarrassment. Before that can happen Martin sighs in defeat; “I-if you wouldn’t mind… I’m not even sure why I got a tie if I didn’t know how to… tie it” he laughs gently and Jon gives him a relaxed smile in response.
The two face each other, Martin bending ever so slightly so Jon can easily get to work. As the man threads the tie through itself his cool fingers graze Martin’s neck, ghosting his collarbone. Martin swallows, abruptly aware of how close their faces are. Jon’s hands seem to flinch back for a moment before finding their place once more. Jon’s movements are slow, careful, almost like he’ll shatter Martin if he moves too suddenly. Soon enough the tie is in its correct shape, Martin goes to pop up his own shirt collar but before he can Jon’s hands are doing it for him. Pulling up the section of fabric so the tie can sit comfortable before tugging them back down.
When the tie is complete and tightened to a comfortable level Jon does not remove his hands, he lets one rest on the tie, his fingers gently gripping the body of the tie while his free right hand rests on Martin’s chest. The man’s eyes trail up to meet Martin’s plush gaze.
Silently, Martin shakily brings up one of his own hands, placing it over Jon’s right. They do not smile at one another. Just look. Gentle regards being their only indication that this moment was very mutual.
Ever so carefully Martin pulls his hand away from his chest, taking Jon’s with it. Their fingers trace each other for a moment, cold slender hands mingling with smooth warm palms. They traverse and explore until Martin's fingers begin to intertwine with Jon’s. Fingers curling around the first set of joints leading to the knuckles…
“Martin! Boss! You ready!?”
…Tim.
A rush of realisation dumps over the two like cold water. They pull away from each other and Jon takes a step or two back, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Yes- ah… We should get going” he forces a smile.
Martin nods back, pulling his jumper over his head with haste. When the clothing is no longer obscuring his vision he notices Jon sighing as he inspects himself in the mirror. “Everything alright?” Martin checks.
“Hm? Oh yes just uh- well I was rather hoping to tie up my hair but I always forget to bring a hair band” He laughs humorlessly. It of course wasn’t a huge deal but clearly something Jon had planned to do.
With a light smile Martin pulls one of the bands off of his wrist, “here” he says, “It’s not like I’m using it” the assistant chuckles as Jon gratefully accepts the hair tie.
“Th…Thank you Martin,” he says in earnest.
With hair now tied into a bun and necktie perfectly adjusted the two make their way upstairs with Tim and Sasha. The ‘party’ is just as dreary as they’d all been expecting. So in hopes of making sure their incredible outfits don’t go to waste, the group leaves early. Heading to Tim’s flat where an abundance of wine is carefully sipped on.
Stories are shared. Wine is drained. And perhaps, in secret…
Hands caress one another.