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It’s a ten hour drive from London to the Scottish Highlands.
Basira had handed them some keys, a few statements, and bags with the clothes they had kept in their offices before rushing them away from the Magnus Institute as fast as she could. There wasn't much time to talk about anything before they drove out of London like bats out of Hell.
Now there is nothing but time.
And neither has said a word for a whole hour.
Martin ruminated over what Jon said in the Lonely. Really all of Jon’s words and actions since he came back.
“I need you.” He had said.
“I don't want to just survive!” He had proclaimed.
“Maybe it's worth it? You and me, together.” He had begged.
The Lonely had made him dismiss those words, even now he can feel it trying to do so again, but he was looking at them in a new light. Maybe Jon had been trying to tell him something. Maybe Jon liked him back, and that’s why he said those things.
Even before the unknowing there were moments he thought maybe Jon saw him as something more than a friend or colleague. He had dismissed it as wishful thinking, but now he thinks there might be more to it.
And there is something insanely romantic about running away hand in hand with the object of your affection to a new land where no one knows who you are. And they were, in fact, hand in hand. Jon hadn't let go of his hand more than absolutely necessary. He would even rub circles into the back of his hand with his thumb. Yet another point for the “Jon maybe (definitely) loves me back” thoughts that have plagued him for the last hour and a half or so. It’s so much like a chapter out of a romance novel it didn’t even seem real. Weren't there a bunch of poems and stories about running away to Scotland to get married?
“It’s almost like we are eloping.” Martin immediately froze after the words left his mouth. That is not how he had wanted to break the silence. They weren't even a couple, and here he is talking about eloping. Jon’s going to think he’s insane.
Jon just smiles in response, still keeping his eyes on the road, “Genta Green wouldn't be much of a detour. We could get married over an anvil.”
Martin was flabbergasted at how casually Jon was treating the idea of marrying him. It didn't even sound like a joke. Maybe he was just humoring him? Must be.
“Never thought of an anvil when picturing my dream wedding, but I wouldn't be opposed.”
“Oh? I’d certainly like to hear more about what you have pictured.” Jon was careful to make sure he didn't turn it into a question. He didn't want to force Martin to tell him, as much as he would like to hear him lay out every detail of what his perfect wedding would be.
“Promise you won't judge me?” Martin hoped Jon was too focused on the road to see his blush.
“Promise.” If there was one thing Jon was thankful to the eye for, it was that he could see both the road and Martin’s blush at the same time. Martin didn’t blush the same as he used to, it was lighter and had a bluish tinge to it now, but Jon still loved seeing it.
“Flowers.” Martin practically sighed out.
“Most weddings have flowers, Martin.”
“I know, but I mean lots of flowers. I want to get married in a field full of wild roses, ivy, paeony, stephanotis, the works.”
“Flowers with meanings of love and a happy marriage. Nothing to be embarrassed about. I think that would be quite lovely. However, I noticed your choice of venue is outdoors.”
“Oh, yeah. The city has always been a bit, well, lonely to me. So my picture of a perfect wedding is back with nature. No post-industrial architecture in sight. Preferably spring time, not too hot or cold, everything is starting to bloom, and if you time it right, no rain.”
“Can't say I'm a fan of the city either. I've gotten used to it over the years, but it's always so noisy and crowded. I'm all for our wedding being in a field somewhere.”
Martin’s heart nearly stopped at the words “our wedding.” He had forgotten that this conversation started with the idea of them getting married. He squeezed Jon's hand.
“Well, since it's your wedding too, any thoughts on the matter?”
“Hm, I can't say I've given it much thought beyond having you as my groom. As long as I have that I’d call it the perfect wedding.”
Yup, that did not sound like a joke. Martin’s heart might just beat out of his chest. Calm down, this is all hypothetical. He's not actually looking to marry you right now. Don’t be stupid.
“No thought beyond that at all? Do you have any cultural or family traditions that you think you might like to include?”
“I never seriously considered getting married before. Georgie was my only serious relationship up to this point, and I always figured if she and I did get married, it would be for tax benefits. A quick trip to the court house would have done the trick there. Not very romantic, and not the kind of ceremony I want to have with you. I wish I could say I know anything about any family traditions at weddings, but I don't. My parents died when I was young and any cousins that I might have that might have been getting married lived too far away for my grandmother to travel. She didn’t talk much about it.”
“Oh. I'm similar. I don't have any contact with my dad's side of the family, not since he left. My mom’s side are either dead or abandoned us when her illness got worse. So, not much from me either.”
“Still, you've actually thought about what you want your wedding to look like. Any religious traditions? Or preference regarding an officiant?”
“I grew up Catholic, but can't say I really believe in all that. You?”
“My unfortunate relationship with the Eye notwithstanding, I've never been religious.”
“What would Beholding wedding traditions even look like?” Martin laughed.
“Definately a lot of eyes. Maybe confessing your darkest secrets before everyone gathered?”
“Would probably have a low divorce rate, if you actually finish the ceremony after hearing your partner’s deepest secrets pulled out by an Avatar of the Beholding.”
They both shivered at the thought.
“I rather not involve the Eye in our wedding more than we have to. Besides, the only other Eye Avatar we know is Jonah, and I'm fairly certain neither of us want him there at all, much less officiating.”
“Yeah, no thanks. Can you imagine? The marriage ceremony would probably turn into some cursed binding ritual.”
“As romanticized as the idea of dying if your partner does is, I think I’d prefer a Judge or other non religious officiant.”
“As long as it isn't a sea captain. I've had enough of those.”
“Agreed, no nautical themes at our wedding. I like your idea of getting married in a field much better than a beach anyway.” Jon chuckled. “It will be a small wedding though. Neither of us have family to invite and Basira is the only one that might come.”
“Well, I never wanted a big wedding anyway. And besides, in this hypothetical scenario, Daisy could have come back to herself as well.” Martin figured Daisy would be Jon’s “best man” so Basira would have to fill the role of his. It was quite the funny picture, considering they’ve barely ever spoken.
Jon was quiet for a long moment before muttering, “Right. Hypothetical.”
“Jon, were you seriously planning our wedding right now?” Martin gawked.
“Well, I mean, sort of? Maybe?” Jon fidgeted under Martin's scrutiny, but still held firm to Martin's hand.
“Jon… I…” Martin’s words devolved into hysterical laughter.
“You're the one who bought it up first.”
“Yeah, because eloping is what people in the olden days ran away to Scotland for!” Martin was still giggling.
“Sorry the idea was so ridiculous.” Jon pouted, causing Martin to laugh harder.
“It is ridiculous! We haven't even been on a date, Jon. We haven't even properly said ‘I love you’ to each other. I spent the entire hour and a half since we left the Lonely playing ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ in my head and you just, casually want to marry me. You are a ridiculous man.”
Jon slowly joined in on the laughter. “Okay when you put it like that, I am getting ahead of myself. God, I’m bad at this. I guess with everything that's happened, just running away and marrying the man I love didn't seem so ridiculous. After all, we don't know how much time we'll have before the next potential apocalypse. But you're right, I’m not doing this properly.”
They pull into a petrol station to refuel, and Jon can finally look at Martin properly. Martin's breath hitches at the intensity of his gaze.
“I love you, Martin. I want to be with you, forever.”
Martin blushed at the confession, and Jon drank in how lovely he was. Martin reached out and cupped his cheek. Jon leaned into the affection.
“I love you too, Jon. So, so much. May I kiss you?”
“Yes.” Jon breathed out before they leaned in and met in the middle.
It was simple and sweet, yet it held all of the words they were just now getting to say. Jon wanted to deepen the kiss, but the center console made that difficult. So instead he broke the kiss and smiled at him.
“Let's refuel and keep going. We can talk on the way about what we want to do from here on out. You are right that we shouldn't skip steps just because we might not have a lot of time. We need to cherish the time we do have.”
“So, you aren’t going to keep planning our wedding?” Martin teased. Jon laughed before kissing the hand he still held and letting go so he can pump the petrol.
“I never said that, but, well, maybe we should go on a proper date first.”