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Jon wakes to a kiss pressed to the top of his head. He smiles and blinks his eyes open to find Martin standing over him, his cheeks red from the cold autumn air outside.
“Hey,” Martin says warmly. “Had a good nap?”
“Mhh. I did.” Jon stretches his arms over his head with a squeak, and shifts until Martin can sit down on the couch next to him. As soon as he’s seated, Jon plumps back down, his head in Martin’s lap.
Martin smiles down at him, brushing a strand of hair out of Jon’s eyes. Jon shudders at the touch and groans. “God, your fingers are cold.”
“I did just walk back from the village, Jon.”
“We need to get you some gloves,” Jon grumbles, curling closer until he can press his forehead against the soft wool of Martin’s jumper.
“Yeah, well. Didn’t quite expect to be still here in late October. We probably both need some winter clothes soon.”
“We can go shopping next time we visit the city. Did you get everything we need today?”
“Yup. Got milk and toothpaste and squash for the curry tonight. There was also a package from Basira at the post office.”
At that, Jon finally opens an eye and blinks up at Martin. “More statements?”
“Yeah. So, if you’re a bit, uh, peckish, I suppose-”
Jon snorts. “I’m alright, thank you. Don’t want to spoil my appetite before dinner.”
“Okay.”
Martin smiles, but now that Jon looks at him a bit closer, he can see that it’s a bit strained. Jon frowns. “Was there anything else? From Basira?”
“Not really? She just apologized for the delay. Apparently something was wrong with the latest batch, but she said she would handle it.” Martin lets out a sigh and shrugs. “Dunno, she was a bit cryptic about this.”
Jon watches him for a moment longer, registers all the little ways that are off about Martin - the crease between his brows, the nervous fumbling with the hem of his sleeve, and the fact that he doesn’t quite meet his eyes - and finally pushes himself upright.
“Martin, what is it?” he asks in concern and Martin’s gaze snaps to him. He looks a bit like a deer caught in the headlights, his eyes wide.
“Um, it’s- it’s fine, really. I- I just had another delivery. Nothing to do with the statements, don’t worry.”
“Martin?”
“I just-” Martin stops himself, taking a deep breath. A blush creeps into his cheeks. “I got something for you.”
That’s not quite what Jon expected. He’s become so used to horror and tragedy that something mundane like a present suddenly throws him off course. He blinks. “Oh?”
Martin nods and bites his lip before pulling a small box out of his pocket. Jon eyes it curiously - it’s a plain grey colour, maybe two inches wide with a lid on top. He can feel the Knowledge of the contents pressing in at the back of his mind, but he’s getting better at blocking it out. Even if it sometimes leaves him with a headache, it’s worth it for the thrill of a surprise. He can’t even remember the last time someone gave him a present.
“So, can I open it?” he asks, a little impatiently as Martin seems to hesitate.
“Uh, yeah!” Martin blushes even harder, and unceremoniously shoves the box into Jon’s hands. “Of course. I… I hope you like it.”
The box is light. Jon runs his fingers along the lid, and at Martin’s encouraging nod finally opens it.
Inside, protected by soft padding, is a ring. Jon’s heart skips a beat, his breath catching in his throat at the first implication that pops into his head - but no, it’s not that kind of a ring, although it leaves him speechless all the same. It’s a simple black band, a few millimeters wide. A design that’s more than familiar.
Eyes burning, Jon looks up. Martin gives him a soft smile.
“I noticed you used to wear one like these,” he says quietly. “Before… well, before you burned your hand.”
Jon nods. He gulps around the lump in his throat. “It- it was destroyed,” he finally says, a little choked up. “They had to cut it off me in the ER. I never got around to getting a new one.”
“I figured. I- I never understood what it meant to you until recently. And, well, the way you explained that you’re asexual and what it means to you after we arrived in Scotland, I felt that this is important to you. That people see and understand and accept it. And, uh, I said I support you, and I mean it, but I just… I wanted to show it as well.”
Jon lets out a shuddering breath. A few tears trickle down his cheeks, and he surges forward to wrap his arms around Martin’s waist and hide his face in the crook of his neck. Immediately, Martin’s arms are around him, holding him tight.
“Oh,” he says softly, breath tickling against Jon’s ear. “Jon, I’m-”
“You daft man,” Jon interrupts before Martin can do something ridiculous like apologize. “You already show me every day. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Maybe. But I wanted to. You deserve the extra effort.”
“Martin.”
“I- I wasn’t sure if it would cross a line to get you one. I mean, it’s such a personal thing, and maybe it would be better if you get a chance to pick one yourself-”
“Stop it,” Jon protests, pulling back to interrupt Martin with a firm kiss. Martin makes a choked sound of pleasure from the back of his throat, and gently cups Jon’s face in his hands as he kisses back. “It’s perfect,” Jon says when they pull apart, a little breathless.
Martin smiles hesitantly, brushing his thumbs over Jon’s wet cheeks. “So, these are good tears?”
“Very good tears. Thank you.”
Martin’s smile blooms into a bright grin and he leans in to press a kiss to Jon’s forehead. With a smile, Jon looks back down at the box still sitting in his lap. Carefully, he takes the ring out of the box and runs a finger over the shining black metal.
“The ring,” he starts slowly, searching or the right words, “it’s less about telling people I’m asexual, and more... a symbol of community and belonging, I suppose. Something I haven’t experienced a lot in the last few years at the Institute.”
“Oh, Jon…”
“I suspect that’s part of the reason why I put it off for so long. It would have felt too much like an empty platitude while I was feeling so alone. But now…” Jon trails off and looks up to find Martin staring at him, eyes shining with unshed tears. Jon smiles and squeezes his hand. “Put it on me?”
Martin’s cheeks turn crimson, but he still plucks the ring out of Jon’s grasp with only slightly trembling hands. His touch is careful as he takes Jon’s burnt hand in his, caressing the palm for a moment before he slips the ring onto Jon’s middle finger. Jon’s breath catches in his throat at the gentleness of it, and he blinks away a few more tears.
The ring fits perfectly onto his finger, despite the jagged scar that still remains after his encounter with Jude Perry. The sight leaves Jon a bit breathless. He didn’t quite realize how much he missed this, but seeing the black band marking his finger feels a bit like coming home.
“Do you like it?” Martin asks quietly.
Jon can’t help but grin, smiling up at Martin. “I love it.”
“Okay. Good.” Martin smiles and raises Jon’s hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I was a bit scared. You looked a little shocked there for a second when you first opened the box.”
“Oh, I wasn’t-” Jon stops himself, clearing his throat. “I mean, I just saw it was a ring, but I didn’t quite recognize what kind of ring it was, and, um…”
Martin blinks before his eyes widen in understanding. “Wait, did you think I was going to propose?”
“I- no, I just...”
“You did!” Martin laughs and Jon lets out a groan, hiding his face against Martin’s chest. “Jon, we’ve only been together for… what, three weeks? Four weeks?”
“Yes, yes,” Jon grumbles, his cheeks burning. “I know. No need to rub it in.”
Martin wraps his arms around Jon, his chest rumbling with laughter. “Maybe I should have expected that this is the pace you set in a relationship,” he teases. “Especially after you asked me to gouge my eyes out and elope-”
Jon pulls back to glare at Martin, even as he can’t help the smile tugging at his lips. “Shut up, Martin.”
Martin only grins wider. Jon huffs and climbs into Martin’s lap to straddle him. That alone is enough to take the wind out of Martin’s sails. He blushes, settling his hands on Jon’s hips. Jon cups Martin’s face in his hands and his eyes catch once again on the black ring he’s now wearing.
He tries to imagine what it would look like, to have another ring to complement the black one. A silver one maybe, with a shining gemstone set into it. He has to admit he quite likes the mental image.
“Just for the record,” Jon starts with a grin, “if you would have proposed, I might have said yes.”
Martin’s eyes widen, full of surprise and a bit of shock that is readily replaced by sheer delight, but before he can answer Jon leans in to kiss the dazed look off his face.
By the time they pull apart Martin looks thoroughly kissed, his cheeks flushed and his lips shining. He's looking at Jon like he still can't quite believe he gets to have this, and Jon has never been more in love with him.
Martin takes a few seconds to catch his breath until finally, Jon’s last words seem to catch up with him. He lets out a groan and buries his face in the crook of Jon’s neck. “Christ, Jon.”
Jon laughs, rubbing a hand up and down Martin’s back. “I just wanted to make that clear. In case it comes up again at some point in the future.”
Martin lets out a long breath that makes Jon shiver. When he pulls back his cheeks are still flaming, his smile shy, but his voice is steady. “I- I’ll keep that in mind,” he says. “For the future.”