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Martin sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and casting a glance across the lawn around him. The party was winding down, now: the music had been turned off, and the brisk night air was driving people away quicker than any parental warnings about getting to bed at a reasonable hour ever could.
It had been… fun. He was glad he had come. He wasn’t terribly close with the host, but then again, it was one of those parties where half the school had been invited and it didn’t really matter who you knew. There had been dancing, and food, and company, and some alcohol, too, if the way a few of his peers were stumbling on their feet was any judge. He hadn’t actually seen the bottles being passed around, and he hoped to hell the parents of the house hadn’t, either.
So, overall worthwhile. But he still hadn’t done what he’d come here to do.
He stared longingly across the dark grass to the corner where Jon and his friends were saying their goodbyes.
He’d been so confident coming into this night. He and Jon had been spending time together, recently, meeting up for their lunch breaks and taking time to say hi in the corridors between classes. Martin had been screwing up his courage to say something for weeks, trying to find the right words to ask him out, and when he’d heard that Jon was coming to this party, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity. Half the reason people threw parties like this was as a convenient excuse to get with the people they liked, and Martin had hoped… well, he’d thought that maybe…
His courage had failed him, though. Every time he’d seen Jon he’d been chatting with someone else, or dancing with his friends, and it just felt too awkward to go over and interrupt to ask him if he’d prefer to dance with Martin, instead. For all that they had been hanging out recently, that still felt presumptuous, and when the decisive moment came Martin found his fear of being turned down was much stronger than his hope for a yes.
So, the party had been fun. But Martin couldn’t help feeling disappointed with the outcome of the night, even so.
He wandered toward the gates, lost in his own thoughts. Maybe the whole idea of tonight had been presumptuous, in hindsight. Sure, it was… something people did. Lots of his peers had been hooking up, recently, and barely a week went by without someone new strutting their stuff confidently in the hallway and giving their friends suggestive winks. Guess what I did last night, and with who.
But Jon… he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to join their number. Martin had a feeling he was waiting for ‘the right person,’ and he was also pretty certain that the right person wasn’t him. But if Jon had wanted… Martin was here, wasn’t he, and if Jon was interested he’d be ready, and he couldn’t deny that the thought that Jon might strut into school someday and give him a suggestive wink, guess what I did last night, and not with you…
Well, it made him want to punch someone.
A couple staggered past, giggling. Martin vaguely recognized Melanie and Georgie from the school’s audiovisual club. They were pink in the cheeks, and there was a disheveled look to their clothing that spoke of wandering hands.
Lucky bastards, Martin thought.
“Hey, do you want to get out of here?”
He stopped in his tracks.
“Um. I, uh…”
“Too dark to be biking this late at night.”
Martin spun around. Jon and his friends were just a few meters behind him, but their progress had been halted by a tall, looming figure. Martin vaguely recognized the captain of the school’s rugby team - Jared, or something? - as he took another small step in Jon’s direction.
“I could give you a lift home…”
“Ah.” Jon gave him a nervous smile. “Don’t you live on the other side of town?”
Jared winked. “I don’t mind going out of my way. I’m sure we could find some way to pass the time.”
Blind fury shot through Martin. How dare-
“I’m alright, thank you.” Jon tilted his head to the side, indicating his friends. “Tim and Sasha have offered already, and they live much closer than you. Thank you, though.”
“Oh.” Jared looked disappointed, but he stepped away. “Yeah, sure. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Oh. Nevermind, then. Nothing to be getting jealous over, and Martin was ready to pack it in and call this embarrassment of a night quits when he was spotted.
“Martin?”
He froze halfway through the act of turning around to sneak away, and forced a stiff smile onto his face before spinning back to face the group. “Hey, Jon.” He nodded at the others. “Tim, Sasha.”
“Hey.”
“Yo.”
Jon stepped a pace ahead of his friends, a smile growing on his face. “I’ve barely seen you all night! I thought you went home ages ago.”
“Ah, no,” Martin laughed awkwardly. “I’ve… been around.”
“Leaving now?”
“Uh, yep. You too?”
“Yeah.” Jon made a strange jerking motion with his hand that Martin chose to interpret as ‘walk with us?’ He was more than happy to do so, and fell into step beside Jon as the four of them headed out the gates of the yard and down the small path to the street. Behind them, he could hear Tim and Sasha whispering to each other, their words interspersed with giggles, and he fought back the flaming blush that was rising in his cheeks. Was his crush on Jon that obvious, that even his friends had noticed?
Jon didn’t seem to know what to say, and Martin didn’t either. They walked silently until they reached the street. Jon kept shooting him glances out of the corner of his eyes, and Martin did his best to avoid his gaze, sure that one look would be enough to reveal all the tangled feelings that had taken root in his heart.
He was doing such a good job of it that it wasn’t until he stepped out onto the sidewalk that he realized that Jon was no longer beside him.
“Jon?”
He turned around. Jon had stopped by a fence post, and was now kneeling down on the ground fiddling with a bike lock. The bike itself was an old, cumbersome thing with a wickerwork basket strapped to the handlebars. It was a familiar, and fond, sight to Martin, as Jon rode it to school most days, and the metallic clicking of the old gears turning over had come to be a signal to Martin that his friend was approaching.
It was a bit of a worrying sight now, though.
“Look, it’s not that big of a deal,” Tim was saying. He and Sasha had stopped by Jon, and were now looking down at him with placating expressions. “It’s, what, twenty minutes out of my way? It’s fine.”
“More like half an hour.” Jon unhooked the lock and stood, sighing. “I’m just saying. I really appreciate it, Tim. You know you don’t have to do this.”
“Like I’m letting you bike home at midnight.” Tim rolled his eyes. “I’m already driving Sasha, I don’t mind getting you too.”
Martin’s heart caught in his throat.
He had a car. It was an old, clunky pickup truck, half held together by rust and half by hope, but it was functional enough to get him to school in the mornings and to work in the afternoons. He’d driven it to the party tonight, and it was parked just down the road. There was enough room in the back for Jon’s bike, and if he cleared his schoolbooks off the passenger seat there’d be room for Jon, too.
Offering to drive someone home had some connotations, though. Particularly if it was someone you’d been spending a lot of time with recently, and had a crush on big enough that they could probably see it from space.
Not that Martin minded the connotations. Indeed, he minded them so little that they made his palms go sweaty and his knees feel weak with excitement.
But asking would take the sort of courage that he’d been lacking all night.
“I would be fine,” Jon was saying, holding his helmet in his hands like he was still half expecting Tim to rescind his offer and leave him on his own.
“I could drive you home.” Martin snapped his jaw shut as soon as the words left his lips, stunned by his own boldness.
They all turned to face him. He shifted nervously.
“I- I mean, if you wanted? I’m heading that way anyway, I go right past your street to get home.”
He did his best to ignore the way Sasha leaned in to whisper in Tim’s ear, and how they both bit back knowing grins.
“R-really?” Jon looked back and forth between Tim and Martin. “I mean I- I wouldn’t want to put you out…”
“It’s no trouble.”
Jon looked at Tim again, a question in his eyes. Tim shrugged. “Hey, it’s your choice, mate. I’m happy to drive you, but I won’t feel slighted if you choose-” he shot Martin a surreptitious wink, “-other company.”
Once again, Martin found himself fighting off a blush. It only got worse when Jon’s face broke into a smile, and he nodded.
“In that case- yeah. Yeah, Martin, I will take you up on that, if you don’t mind. Saves Tim and Sasha going out of their way for me, at least.”
Martin had to choke back his breathlessness to get a response out. “Y-yeah! Yeah, of course, that’s- happy to!”
Jon lifted a palm, and Tim gave him a hearty high-five. “Nice one,” he said under his breath, then, louder, “Night, Jon.”
“Night, Tim.”
Sasha punched him lightly on the shoulder as she followed Tim down the street. “Have fun.” She, too, shot Martin a wink before leaving.
“See you Monday.”
And then Jon and Martin were alone.
“I’m, um, I’m just down the street,” Martin said, trying to keep his voice steady. “D’you want me to carry your helmet? Looks like you’ve got your hands full with the bike.”
At the truck, Martin left Jon securing his bike in the back as he did a quick sweep inside the cab to clear some space. The books were easy enough to shove under the passenger seat, and the old cardboard coffee cups he was able to crush and squeeze - just barely - into the glovebox, but there wasn’t much he could do about the dust and dirt ingrained into the soft furnishings.
“Sorry about the mess,” he said, as Jon slid into the seat beside him. “I, um, I work for a landscaping company so things get a bit, uh, messy when I’m on the job.”
Jon gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s fine, Martin. Honestly, I’m just impressed that you have a car at all. I mean, you’ve seen me on my bike.” He chuckled.
Martin did his best to join in, trying to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat when Jon said he was impressed with him.
“Nothing wrong with a bike,” he said. “I’d still be doing that too if I didn’t need to drive for work.”
Jon hummed, turning to look out the window, and Martin took a deep, deep breath before turning the key in the ignition and pulling out into the street.
They drove in silence for a bit, nothing but the rattle of the engine and the occasional buzz of other cars passing by to break the quiet.
Martin tried to calm his racing heart. This could still all turn out to be nothing. He was just driving Jon home; connotations or not, there was no obligation here, on either of their parts.
No obligation, but there was opportunity, and Martin’s palms grew sweaty again as he considered the best way to open that conversation.
“Do you mind if I turn on the radio?” Jon’s voice broke the quiet. He was looking back at Martin again, a small smile on his face. Martin envied his calm.
“Uh, yeah! No problem. It’s a bit fiddly, you might have to…” He trailed off as Jon reached for the dial.
After a few moments of static it picked up a station playing soft folk music. Martin breathed out, letting the steady rhythm soothe him.
A sound from beside him made him look over. Jon was looking out the window again, facing away from Martin, but his head was bobbing gently to the music as he hummed along. And then he started to sing, very softly, almost under his breath.
“This party was made with the night air…”
Martin held his breath. He’d never had the opportunity to hear Jon sing before; never considered what sort of voice he might have. The answer was: beautiful.
“I’ll have you back by break of day… going your way anyway…”
Jon trailed off as the song shifted into an instrumental section, and Martin flicked his tongue across dry lips.
“Hey Jon?”
“Hm?” Jon looked over at him.
“Would you, uh, I mean…” Martin’s mouth was dry. He swallowed, gaze fixed on the road ahead of him, unable to meet Jon’s eyes. “I know it’s late, but it’s such a clear night. Would you want to drive up the hill and see if we can see the stars?”
Jon stared at him for a long, long moment, his gaze weighing Martin against some internal scale. And then…
Then his face broke into a smile.
“Yes,” he said. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
Martin was pretty sure his heart was going to explode out of his chest, it was beating so fast.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay, cool, that’s- alright.” He tried to fight back the smile that was crawling its way onto his face. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jon grin as well, and sit back in his seat with a self-satisfied expression.
“Alright,” he echoed.
It took an enormous effort of will for Martin to focus on the road, after that. Thankfully there weren’t many other cars out this late, so he could afford to spend a certain amount of his attention on the fact that Jon had said yes.
Jon had said yes. To him.
Martin had never… well, he was only seventeen, wasn’t he? That was still pretty young to be doing… this. Yeah, he’d wanted to, for a long time, and quite a lot more frequently ever since he’d met Jon, but he hadn’t… followed through, as it were. Partly from lack of opportunity, and partly because he- he wanted it to be special. He wanted it to be with someone special.
You only got one first, after all. He wanted to be able to look back on the memory fondly.
Jon was special. Jon was the sort of special that made the rest of the world fade away when they were together, made Martin feel like he was floating on little pink clouds with bluebirds tweeting around his head. Jon was choir-of-angels, beam-of-heavenly-light, can’t-imagine-being-with-anyone-else special.
And he’d said yes. To Martin.
Martin was pretty sure that would make him Jon’s first, too, and beyond any heart-racing excitement for the action itself there was a gooey, romantic core to his heart that melted to bits at the thought that they were going to share this together.
He turned up the quiet road that led up the hill, flicking his high beams on. Up here, there were no houses, no streetlights, no people. It made it the perfect spot for stargazing on dark nights, and also extremely popular among the local youth for… other reasons.
Reasons that Martin now shared.
There was a small, cleared park at the top of the hill with a view back down across the town, with a grassy area and a few benches where hikers would come up to have picnics on nice days. It was abandoned at this time of night.
Martin parked in the small lot, turning off the engine. The sudden rush of silence felt deafening.
He could hear Jon breathing next to him, in and out, slightly faster than normal.
He cleared his throat. “Dark up here.”
“Yes.” Jon undid his seatbelt, leaning forward to peer up and out the windscreen. “Want to get out? We’ll be able to see the stars better from out there.”
“Sure.” Martin followed Jon out of the car, meeting him by the passenger-side door and leaning back against it, side-by-side. A faint plink, plink noise rose from the engine as it cooled.
“Hm,” Martin said after a moment. “Moon’s pretty bright.”
Without the lights of the car drowning it out, the almost-full moon lit up the night sky, casting a faint silvery glow over the ground below. And, consequently, dimming all but the brightest of the stars around it.
“Yes,” Jon agreed. He reached up with one hand, pointing to a faint patch of stars in one corner of the sky. “I think that’s the Pleiades,” he said. “The- the seven sisters.”
“Is it?” Martin peered at the point Jon was indicating. It looked a bit like a smaller version of the Little Dipper - the Littlest Dipper? The Tiny Dipper. The… “It looks like a Mini Dipper,” he said, and Jon laughed.
“It does, doesn’t it? It’s the only constellation I’ve ever been able to find consistently. Well- not an official constellation, but you know what I mean.”
“Yes.” Martin wanted to kiss him. He really, really wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t know how to get from here to there. Did he just ask? Or was that considered gauche? Maybe he was supposed to just lean over and do it out of the blue. Would that be more romantic, or too pushy? “It’s beautiful,” he added, just to fill the time while he was distracted.
“It is, isn’t it.” Martin became aware of the fact that Jon was no longer looking at the stars. He was turned to Martin, a soft look on his face and a question in his eyes. Martin drew in a breath, not sure where the moment was taking them-
And then Jon kissed him.
His lips were very soft. One of his hands had lifted to cup Martin’s face, and the cool press of his fingers was a burning contrast to the heat in Martin’s cheeks.
Martin made a soft, involuntary, wanting noise, and kissed him back. He tangled his hands in the front of Jon’s shirt, pulling him closer, and tilted his head to the side so his lips could slide more easily against Jon’s.
The sudden press of Jon’s body against his own was unexpected, but Martin let himself be pushed back as Jon pinned him against the side of the car. He pressed in, kissing Martin desperately, passionately, as though he’d been wanting this for ages, too, and now that he’d been given permission he couldn’t hold himself back. Martin whined again as Jon’s tongue slid into his mouth, the sensation driving all thoughts from his head. He wanted it to last forever.
Or perhaps not forever, because mere moments after the tongue retreated Jon did something wicked with his teeth in Martin's bottom lip, and he'd have traded quite a lot of forevers for him to do that again.
And then Jon did it again.
And then his tongue was back, and really, Martin thought, he had to stop trying to categorize these things, because each subsequent one was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and there was no way to put a rank on that.
He didn’t know how long they spent there, kissing in the moonlight. Little things like time seemed terribly unimportant in the face of much more interesting matters, like the way Jon’s hand was sneaking up under Martin’s shirt or the absolutely stunning things he could do with his tongue when he tilted his head just so.
What he did know was that his trousers were growing uncomfortably tight, and that if he didn’t make a move to escalate things soon they could probably while away the entire night here, doing nothing more scandalous than having a private snog.
Which, Martin thought, as Jon’s hand wound into his hair and tugged lightly, he wouldn’t particularly mind. But he also didn’t mind the escalation, and he would hate for Jon to think he’d chickened out on him at the last minute.
So Martin sucked in a breath through his nose, loosened the hand that had been clutching at the back of Jon’s shirt, and dropped it down to the front of Jon’s trousers.
His fingers had only just barely grazed the fabric before Jon was inhaling sharply, pulling back from the kiss with a startled expression.
“That’s- no, wait- I don’t-”
Martin removed his hand as quickly as he physically could. “Sorry!” he blurted. “Oh god, I’m sorry, did I misinterpret something, I didn’t mean to-”
“No, no, I’m sorry!” Jon babbled over him. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, if I’ve misunderstood what you wanted-”
“-just thought you wanted to try it with me, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable-”
“-didn’t even occur to me that you might be expecting-”
“Sorry!”
“I’m so sorry.”
They stopped, staring at each other.
Martin opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say. He couldn’t, so he shut it again.
Jon grimaced. “I really am sorry, Martin,” he repeated. “I just- I wasn’t expecting you to go there.”
“It’s fine!” Martin said quickly. “Really, it is. I’m the one that should be apologizing, I crossed a line without asking first.”
“I didn’t ask before kissing you,” Jon pointed out.
“Yeah, but…” Martin shrugged, sheepish. “It’s not exactly a secret that I’ve been wanting that for ages.”
The corner of Jon’s lips twitched in a smile. “I mean… I didn’t know for sure until you asked me up here tonight.”
Martin’s cheeks heated. “Really? I thought everyone knew.”
“No.” Jon reached out, taking Martin’s hand carefully into his own. “But I do… want this, Martin,” he said. “I didn’t say yes for no reason. I just don’t want… that.”
Martin nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine! I didn’t want to rush you, I just…” He hesitated. “I mean, I kind of thought that was what you wanted? Coming up here tonight.”
Jon’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean-” Martin was sure his face was glowing, he was blushing so much. “Y’know. 'Hey, can I drive you home? Want to go park on the hill and, wink, wink, ‘look at the stars’?'”
Jon’s expression remained uncomprehending for a long moment. Then a sudden rush of realization swept over his features. “Wait, are people talking about sex when they say that?” His voice pitched high and incredulous.
“Um, yes?”
Jon’s jaw could have hit the floor, it dropped so far. “Really?”
Martin couldn’t help it; he laughed. “Yes? Jon, I- what did you think they were talking about?”
“Making out!” Jon looked around wildly, like the landscape around him could give him answers. “Are people really- that often?”
“I mean, probably not as often as they say they are?” Martin hazarded. “But a lot of people are- I mean- yeah.”
“I…” Jon’s expression was caught somewhere between disgust and wonder. He fell silent, looking perturbed.
After a moment, Martin wiggled the hand that he was still holding to get his attention. “Jon?”
“Hm?”
“Did you really… not know?”
“No!” It was a weaker protest this time, faintly embarrassed at his ignorance. “How could I?”
“I mean…” Martin grimaced a bit. “There are… a lot of condom wrappers on the ground around here.”
Jon glanced at the pavement around them. His cheeks turned pink. “I… hadn’t noticed those.”
“Probably for the best,” Martin assured him. “Look, I… I’m sorry.” Jon opened his mouth to protest, but Martin shook his head, cutting him off. “No, really, I am. I shouldn’t have assumed that you were agreeing to… that… when I asked you to come up here tonight. And I want you to know that I’m not in a rush. I know a lot of our peers are starting, but I’m- I’m happy just to be with you. I, I mean-” He chuckled incredulously. “I wasn’t even sure you liked me back before tonight, I’m thrilled just for-” He wiggled their hands again, “-this. If you’re not ready to go farther, I’m not going to push you.”
Jon stared at him for a moment, his mouth opening and shutting. “Thank you,” he said eventually, then seemed to bite the words off. He grimaced, looking down at his feet, and then up at the sky with a sigh.
“Jon?”
“I’m…” he started, and then sighed again. “Can I… tell you something?” When he met Martin’s gaze again, his own was nervous.
“Of course!” Martin said immediately.
Jon took a deep breath, nodding. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and squeezed Martin’s hand.
“I’m- I’m not sure how to…” he began, and grimaced again.
“It’s okay, Jon,” Martin said softly. The way Jon was acting was more than a little concerning, but… “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“No, I want to!” Jon’s eyes snapped open. “I just don’t know how to explain it properly.”
“Okay…” Martin said slowly.
“It’s just-” Jon sighed again. “I’m… I’m worried you’ll stop liking me if I tell you.” He looked pained, just saying the words.
“Jon,” Martin said, incredulous. “That’s- I mean-” He flushed. “Unless you’ve been, like, torturing puppies for fun, I don’t think there’s much that could get me to stop liking you.” It was an embarrassingly earnest admission.
Jon didn’t look like he believed it. “Right,” he said. He looked to the side, his eyebrows furrowing in thought, then sighed and turned back to Martin. “It’s just…” he said slowly. “You said you’re not in a rush, that- that you won’t push me if I’m not ready. If I want to wait.”
“Yes,” Martin confirmed.
“But I’m- I’m not waiting,” Jon said, and Martin had just the barest second of heartbreak to think oh, he’s already sleeping with someone else, before Jon continued: “No, no, that’s not- what I mean is… I’m never going to be ready.”
Martin took a moment to process that, trying his best to keep his face neutral. That was… fine. It was okay. He could handle it. He’d been telling himself for ages that Jon would never want to sleep with him, and even though his certainty had been shaken when they’d kissed… it was fine. Jon didn’t want to do anything until he found the right person, and Martin just wasn’t the right person. He could live with that, and he’d do his best to enjoy whatever time they had together until the moment when Jon inevitably dumped him for someone better.
He felt a moment of aching regret for the hopeless dream that they would share the intimacy of being each other’s firsts.
Then he hoisted a smile onto his face. “Okay,” he said, as brightly as he could manage. “That’s fine, I get it. Like I said, I’m not going to push you, and I completely understand that you want to wait for the right person before you try anything like that.” He was proud of himself that his voice didn’t crack.
“What?” Jon looked confused for a moment, then annoyed. “No, you’re not understanding me, I mean-” He let go of Martin’s hand in favor of dragging his own hands down his face, letting out a frustrated half-growl. When his hands dropped again his expression was softer, almost pleading. “I’m not ‘waiting for the right person,’ Martin, I’m- believe me, if there was a ‘right person,’ it would be you.” He took a shaky breath. “What I’m saying is I- I don’t want to have sex. Ever. With anyone.”
When he finished speaking he looked away, crossing his arms over his chest protectively.
“It would be me?” Martin said, aware that there was something more important he should be focusing on but not able to get past that one sentence that was making him feel like he had a whole flight of butterflies making themselves at home in his stomach.
Jon looked back at him. “Yes,” he said simply. “But it’s not. Because I don’t want to have sex.” His arms tightened until he was practically hugging himself.
Martin tried to understand. “Okay,” he said. “But you- you still want to go out with me? And, and hold my hand and things?”
“That’s different.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get that, just… checking.”
There was a moment of silence as Martin tried to wrap his brain around the concept of not wanting to have sex with someone that you liked. He couldn’t say he really understood it, since his own brain had been a mess of hormones and strange desires since puberty, but if Jon still wanted to go out with him maybe he could explain it more later, and Martin could understand then.
“Okay, I-”
“I understand,” Jon cut him off, speaking quickly like he was ripping of a bandage, “if you don’t want to go out with me anymore because of this.”
“What?”
“I know you wanted to have sex,” Jon said, his voice trembling. “A-and I’m very glad that you wanted it to be with me, but I can’t- I won’t do that, so, so if you want to find someone else who will I understand.”
It took Martin a moment to comprehend that Jon was worried that Martin was going to break up with him.
“No!” he protested. “That’s not- I wouldn’t- I mean.” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to find the right words. This was important. “I- I didn’t ask you to come up here with me just for sex, Jon,” he said. “I- I really like you. And I want to go out with you, and I’ve wanted to go out with you for ages, and it doesn’t matter to me if we’re doing that or not.”
“But you expected-” Jon started.
“I expected you to turn me down, honestly,” Martin admitted. “I… look. The whole sex thing… I’m not that desperate to start, you know? It just seemed to be the thing people are doing when they start dating, and I could be ready if you wanted to, but if you don’t want to then I don’t care. I’m- I’m not going to feel like I’m ‘missing out,’ or anything.” He took a breath. “It’s not the sex that’s important to me, Jon. It’s you.”
“Really?” Jon still looked like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Really,” Martin said.
He barely got the word out before his arms were full of Jon. He’d launched himself at Martin, wrapping him in a tight hug and burying his face in his neck. Martin could feel the damp warmth of his breath against his skin when he spoke.
“Thank you,” Jon breathed.
Martin hugged him back, his own breath stuttering a little as he adjusted to the sudden contact. “Of- of course,” he managed to say. “I- I really like you, Jon.”
“I really like you too,” Jon whispered. He clung to Martin for a long moment, and when he finally pulled back Martin was surprised to see that his eyes were damp.
“Sorry.” He wiped at his eyes; sniffed. “Oh, god, I’m sorry. I- I’ve never actually told anyone this before?” He huffed an embarrassed laugh. “You’re the first. You’re…” He huffed again, giving Martin a damp smile. “You’re my first.”
The gooey, romantic core of Martin’s heart melted into bits. It wasn’t the ‘first’ he’d been expecting tonight, but it felt no less intimate, to be trusted with this secret that Jon hadn’t shared with anyone else.
“It’s okay,” Martin said softly. He reached up, cupping Jon’s face in his hand and brushing his thumb across his cheek, wiping away the tears that had fallen. “Thank you for trusting me.”
In answer, Jon placed his hand over the back of Martin’s, and tilted his head to press a kiss into his palm. Martin’s heart skipped a beat.
“Can I kiss you again?” he breathed.
Jon nodded slowly, and leaned in. His lips met Martin’s with a gentle pressure, and the rest of the world fell away as they held each other there, the two of them alone in all the world under the silver glow of the moonlight.
It was very late when Martin finally brought Jon home - so late that it was almost early. The moon had long since set, and it was by the light of the stars only that Martin pulled his truck cautiously into Jon’s driveway, ears pricked for any sign from within that his grandmother might still be awake, and displeased.
“I told her I’d be home by midnight,” Jon remarked. He didn’t sound upset that he’d missed his deadline - quite the opposite, in fact.
Martin snorted. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Jon grinned, his eyes sparkling with joy. “I had a great time tonight.”
“Me too.”
They stared at each other for a moment with shy, bashful smiles.
“I’ll, um,” Martin finally said. “I should let you go.”
“Probably,” Jon agreed. He turned to look at the house, eyes narrowing.
“Will you able to get back in without being caught?”
“Shouldn’t be an issue.” Jon looked at him again. He reached out, placing his hand over Martin’s where it rested on the steering wheel, then shifted his whole body weight forward so he could lean in and kiss him, one last time. It was lingering, and sweet.
Martin grinned when he finally pulled back. “See you on Monday,” he whispered.
“Text me when you get home,” Jon answered. “I won’t to go to bed until I know you’re back safe.”
“Okay,” Martin promised, irrepressibly fond, and then Jon was leaning away again, opening the car door, and slipping out into the night.
Martin watched him creep across the lawn like a shadow. He disappeared for a moment against the wall of bushes that partitioned the front yard from the back, and Martin frowned as he realized Jon wasn’t heading for his front door. He couldn’t see where he’d gone.
A moment later he got his answer as something moved against the side of the house, and Martin watched in amusement as Jon deftly scaled the tall trellis that supported his grandmother’s climbing roses.
He spent a second fiddling with the window at the top, then pushed it open and tumbled inside. A moment later he reappeared, leaning out the window to wave goodbye with a beaming grin.
Martin waved back, laughing, and then popped the truck into neutral. There was a gentle slope to the driveway, and Martin coasted down it, silent, until he was able to turn out onto the street. Only then did he start the engine, far enough from the house that it wouldn’t raise any suspicious questions if Jon’s grandmother overheard.
He chanced one glance back before driving away. Jon was still leaning out his window, his hands braced against the frame. He was staring after Martin’s car with a soft, unguarded expression, wonderment and fondness writ large across his features. Martin could see that his hair was still disheveled from the way Martin had been running his fingers through it all night.
He stared for as long as he dared, committing the sight to memory.
Then he turned away, and drove off into the night.
~~~~~
On Monday, Martin found himself by the doors when Jon arrived at school. They hadn’t exactly planned it, but they tended to get in at around the same time every day anyway, and he’d hung back for a few moments instead of rushing off to class on the off chance that they could see each other.
So he was by the doors and well within earshot when Jon’s arrival was heralded by a loud hoot of greeting from Tim, who, along with Sasha, apparently had planned on ambushing him as soon as he got in.
“Well hello there!” Tim cooed, tossing his arm around Jon’s shoulders and pulling him into a half-hug. “How was your weekend?”
“Did you and Martin get home okay?” Sasha added, her voice practically bubbling over with suggestion.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Jon said blandly. He spotted Martin across the hall, and wriggled his way out from under Tim’s arm. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”
Martin lifted a hand in greeting as Jon crossed over to him. Jon returned the gesture shyly. When he was close enough, he linked their raised hands, twining their fingers together and swinging them in the air between them.
“Hi,” he said warmly.
“Hi,” Martin echoed.
Across the hall Tim hooted again. When Martin looked over he could see him and Sasha both giving Jon ferocious thumbs up, grinning and winking like mad.
Jon snorted, flipping them an absent-minded middle finger over his shoulder.
Then he leaned in and kissed Martin. It was slow, and sweet; tender and chaste. The others would read more into it than there was, but Martin didn’t care. Let them think what they would; he and Jon knew the truth, and that was enough.
Against his lips, Martin could feel the shape of Jon’s smile.