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6pm. Jon was still in his office.
Surely, he can’t still be working, Martin thought to himself as he paced the hallway. He tilted his head in consideration when he remembered he was also still in the archives this late.
Yes, Jon was always the type to work late anyway and had stayed significantly later than this before, but something about tonight felt different to Martin. It felt final, like something terrible would happen and this would be the last time he ever saw Jon again. Or the others, but they had all left hours ago, so that moment had passed.
Tea. Tea was always a good conversation starter. But what would Martin even say to him?
Hello Jon, I’ve been in love with you since we first met, and I thought the day before you die a horrible death would be the best time to tell you!
Martin shook his head and made his way to the break room, flicking the switch on the kettle and rooting through the cupboards for the decaffeinated tea. They would both need sleep before The Unknowing, and caffeine would just make Martin more anxious anyway. His hand found the mostly-full box and placed it on the counter. Muscle memory led him to their usual mugs, and he began preparing their respective drinks. The repetitive nature of making tea had always been a soothing activity for Martin, so it gave him time to rationalise his thought process a bit.
I’m scared, he thought. He was afraid of so much, and he wanted that to stop tonight. He would face his fears and finally admit what he had been feeling for a while. When recording the statement for Jon about his feelings towards the plan, he had even said – he didn’t want his final message to the world to be that he was scared. This would be an act of bravery.
Nodding to himself, Martin stirred the tea one last time, and began to walk to Jon’s office, mugs in hand. If his hands were shaking, it was from excitement and not anxiety, he told himself.
When he reached the office door, he steeled himself, took a deep breath, and pushed on the handle with his elbow.
“Knock, knock!” He called out quietly, not wanting to startle Jon out of whatever concentration he had.
Jon’s head snapped upward, and then his gaze settled on the mugs and he visibly relaxed. That was a familiar sight to Martin, and it warmed his heart to know his tea made Jon feel better.
“Ah, hello Martin. I didn’t know you were still here. Everyone else has gone home to prepare for the next few days.” Jon sounded exhausted, his voice a little lower than normal. “Thank you for bringing me tea, I was about to make some myself but, well… This is nicer.” He smiled so gently that Martin wanted to blurt out his feelings there and then, but that would ruin everything he had hyped himself up to say, so he managed to restrain himself.
Martin placed the mugs on the desk, ensuring they were both on coasters; Jon was rather particular about that. He took a seat in the only other chair in this office – a small wooden dining chair stolen from the break room once when Jon had needed to record a statement direct from subject. Gertrude hadn’t kept a chair in her office for that purpose, which Jon had thought odd. Did she make statement-givers stand? Or did she use a different office? These were questions for another time when there wasn’t the pressing matter of saving the world.
“I noticed you were still here and wanted to make sure you were okay, given, well, everything that’s about to happen.” Martin gestured vaguely around, pausing a moment before deciding, yes, he was brave enough to follow through with his plan. “A-and I also wanted to tell you something.”
“Oh?” Jon raised an eyebrow.
“Yes.” Deep breath, Blackwood, you’ve got this. “I have been so, so afraid. For so long. A-and for so many reasons. I never tell anyone when I’m afraid, it’s been drilled into me since I was young, my mother hated hearing me say I was scared and would tell me that was ‘nonsense’ and I should simply ‘man up’, or whatever. It really affected me, obviously, and I haven’t had a chance to overcome this barrier its made in my mind. I just sit in silence, stewing in my fear and I’ve decided that I need to stop, and I need to tell people that I am afraid. This plan we have, to stop the Unknowing, is terrifying, Jon.” Martin stood up and began to pace the small office, only able to take a couple of steps before needing to pivot around again. “But I’m done being scared. I want to be brave and face my fears.”
Jon interrupted, “If this is about what you said in your statement yesterday, it’s alright, Martin, I heard you. You don’t want your ‘last message’ to be that you were afraid all the time. You came across loud and clear, and your part of the plan is very brave. Standing up to, him, is incredibly brave.”
Martin had not anticipated the interruption to his monologue and was a little shaken. That wasn’t his plan, to simply reassure Jon that he wanted to be brave for the plan regarding the Unknowing. He didn’t understand why, but his eyes began to well up. Shit. Now he was going to cry in front of Jon. His shoulders began to shake, and he turned to face the wall.
“M-Martin? Are you, are you okay?” Jon asked, genuine concern in his voice. Martin couldn’t bring himself to speak any more, worried it would come out as a choked sob, so he just shook his head. “Is there anything I can do? Do you,” Jon paused, “Do you want a hug?”
Martin turned back to face him, now nodding, and Jon quickly wrapped his arms around Martin’s torso. The height difference meant Martin could almost rest his head on top of Jon’s own, but he elected to rest his forehead on Jon’s shoulder instead, one of his hands on his back, and the other in his hair. The presence of human contact broke down all of Martin’s walls and he began to cry, large tears falling from his face and soaking into Jon’s jumper.
A few minutes passed, and Martin’s sobbing had subsided a little, though his grip on Jon’s hair and shoulder remained relatively strong. He summoned some courage and decided to come clean.
“Jon,” he whispered into the shorter man’s shoulder.
“Yes?”
“What I actually wanted to tell you was that I’ve been so afraid of losing you.” There, he said it. It was out of his system, out in the open. “I’ve felt that for a while, and I wanted to be brave and tell you before, well, before I potentially lose you tomorrow.”
Martin felt Jon begin to step back and moved his hands away. A terrible panic began to set in.
“Oh my god, Jon, I’m sorry, I’ve overstepped. You’ve got so much to think about for tomorrow and I just admitted that and-“
“Martin,”
“You’re my boss, this is not my place, and this is just a distraction, I’ve ruined it,”
“Martin.”
“I’m so sorry, I can leave,” Martin turned to go, but felt a hand on his shoulder and stopped himself.
“Can I kiss you?”
Oh.
Jon was staring up at him, a gentle smile creeping onto his face again. Martin nodded his head, maybe a little too eagerly, as he heard a slight chuckle as Jon leaned in.
And then their lips met. Just as gentle as that smile. Martin’s eyes fluttered closed and he let out a contented sigh. Jon was kissing him. It could be his last day on Earth, and he could die happy. He pushed back into the kiss, feeling Jon’s hand cupping his cheek, his own hand reached up and curled into Jon’s hair again. He pulled the shorter man closer, indulging himself in this experience. They only pulled away for air.
“I thought-“
“I didn’t-“
They broke into childlike giggles and pressed their foreheads together.
“Martin, I,” Jon started, looking down to avoid eye contact, “I had a slight hunch that you… Had feelings for me, I mean there were rumours around the office but, I didn’t want to invade your privacy, and I had almost persuaded myself I had imagined the whole thing as some selfish fantasy. So, I’m glad you decided to be brave.” He finally looked up and Martin swore his eyes sparkled.
“I was just so afraid you would… Die or something tomorrow and I would never get to tell you how I feel. I didn’t care how you responded and was almost certain you would hate me or something so, this is very much welcome.” They both giggled again, which looked so out of place on someone as usually stern as Jon, but Martin knew immediately he could easily get used to it.
“Martin, if we both survive this, I’d love to take you on a proper date. Somewhere fancy, with a dress code or something maybe, unless you would prefer something simpler, it would be up to you-“
“When we both survive this, Jon,” Martin interrupted, “You can take me anywhere in the world and I would follow you willingly. You just need to promise me first that you won’t do anything stupid. Try your hardest to make it through in one piece, please.”
“I promise.” Jon cupped Martin’s face in his hands again, and Martin couldn’t help but lean into the touch. “It’s a date.”
“Good, because as selfish as it sounds, I want to kiss you a lot more than we have time for now.” Martin plastered a smirk on his face, albeit temporarily as his surprise to see Jonathan Sims blushing was enough to make anyone’s jaw drop.
Time passed, it grew darker still outside of the archives, but inside, Martin and Jon were content to spend their last evening before the end of the world in each other’s close company. Their teas had gone cold, but they didn’t seem to care. The Unknowing could wait for them.