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Jon was nervous
Well, nervous wasn’t exactly the right word, if he was being honest with himself, he was downright terrified. He tried to convince himself there was no need for the anxiety bubbling in his core, not for this. It would be fine. He just needed to say something.
And that was it, wasn’t it? Talking. Communicating. Setting boundaries. Jon knew himself well enough to know that none of those things were his strong suits, per se. And that had been fine, for a while.
When he and Martin had gotten together, if you could even call clinging to each other for dear life and then running away together getting together, it hadn’t exactly been under customary circumstances. They had skipped right past every early relationship milestone straight to domesticity and then to codependency. And that had been fine. He trusted Martin. More than he ever had trusted anyone. Even in uni, before things got bad with Georgie he never felt like he fit with her the way he fit with Martin. He felt safe with him. His arms were never anything more than comforting and his kiss never demanded anything more than Jon was willing to give.
That’s why Jon knew he shouldn’t be nervous. And yet. See, one of the major relationship milestones they had skipped was the sitting down and talking about boundaries. Or, at least, he thought that might be something that most relationships had. He didn’t exactly have much of a frame of reference. But regardless, they had never had that conversation. Again, that had been fine. It hadn’t come up in the safe house, they were both still coping with the residual effects of the Lonely and spent most of their days in bed silently clinging to one another. Words had been hard to come by in those days but they found that they didn’t really need them. They had both just needed something solid to hold onto, so they held onto each other and that was enough. And then the world ended. Conversations were forgotten in favor of just trying to survive. With all the endless horror around them, they fell into their familiar dance of holding each other in silence. Or, at least, the closest thing to silence in a world that would not stop screaming.
But now they were… Somewhere Else, as they had taken to calling wherever they were now. They were safe and free for the first time since they had known each other and were finally able to just be. It was only then that Jon realized there was something very important about himself he had neglected to tell Martin. Something that would have probably come up in one of those boundaries conversations they never had. It wasn’t that he was keeping it a secret, of course. He had long since come to terms with his asexuality and was far beyond the point where it made him feel insecure or broken. And yet, something still twisted in his gut when he considered telling Martin. An insidious whisper that he thought he had silenced back in secondary school rang out in his mind. It whispered that Martin would be disappointed with him. Or that he would feel like he was missing out on something and grow to resent him for it. It told him that if Martin found out it would be the thing that finally convinced him that Jon just wasn’t worth it. It would be the thing that would make him leave.
He tried to quell the nagging voice, tried to shove it back into dormancy where it had rested for the last decade and a half. He knew Martin wasn’t like that. He knew that Martin would love and accept him regardless. Because he was Martin and he was good and wonderful and kind and loving. He knew he should just tell him. Get it over with so he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. But that meant having a serious conversation. That meant vulnerability in an area he obviously wasn’t as comfortable with as he thought he was. And, again, Jon had never been good at setting boundaries.
So, yes.
Jon was nervous.
He knew that he would have to broach the subject eventually. He also knew that the longer he waited, the longer they lived together and shared a bed and made out on the couch, the more awkward the conversation would be when they did have it. He knew it would be best to just bring it up in conversation, to rip the bandage off so to speak. He had decided that he was going to bring it up at the nearest possible opportunity. And then they had been cuddling on their second hand couch. Jon was holding a book that he wasn’t really reading and Martin was writing in the leather-bound notebook Jon had bought him for his poetry. It was the perfect moment.
And that is why Jon was currently hiding in the bathroom, bracing himself against the sink and wondering if it was possible to just live the rest of his life in there. He splashed some cool water on his face, hoping that would help him to calm down. It did not. Neither did the soft knock on the door or the gentle whisper of “Jon? Are you alright in there, love?”
He tried to say yes. Or no. Or something. But he couldn’t. His thoughts were racing too fast and all his words were stuck in his throat. This was ridiculous. He had faced far scarier things than this every day of his life as The Archivist. He didn’t even really know what he was afraid of. It’s not like Martin was actually going to leave him over this, after everything.
Would he..?
His thoughts were cut off by Martin’s voice just on the other side of the bathroom door, “Jon, I don’t know what’s wrong but I’m going to be right here when you need me, alright?” Jon really did try to respond but his voice still seemed to be staging some kind of strike and all that came out was a sort of choked gasp. Fabric rustled outside as Martin, presumably, sat down against the door. Jon sat down, leaning against his side of the door. He wanted to be close to him. He wanted to open the door and find himself wrapped safely in his partner’s arms. He wanted to let all the doubt and fear melt away. But the voice in his head was getting louder and the door stayed closed.
They sat like that for a long moment, back to back save a couple of inches of plywood, Jon spiraling and Martin trying very hard to find a solution to a problem he had no idea the source of. The silence stretched on for several minutes before Martin decided to break it.
“Jon?” His voice was gentle as always. Sweet and familiar as tea and honey.
Jon had still not remembered how to use his words but he managed something like a sound of acknowledgment.
“I don't know what’s wrong. And you don’t have to tell me if you aren’t ready. I just want you to know that you can tell me anything. I want to help.”
Jon knew that. Of course he knew that. Martin knew him better than anyone ever had. So why was this so hard for him to say? If his throat was working he might have screamed in pure frustration.
Another moment went by and Jon still hadn’t managed to speak so Martin spoke again, partially out of a desire to fill the tense silence and partially because he always seemed to know exactly what Jon needed to hear. “I love you, Jon.” his voice was laced with so much tenderness Jon’s entire body filled with warmth. “So, so much. More than I even thought was possible before I met you. And nothing you tell me is ever going to change that, okay?”
His voice was so calm. So sure. And, in the end, that was what broke through the layer of ice that had formed over his brain. He was being silly, this was Martin he was talking to. Good, kind, understanding Martin. Martin who loved him no matter what. Martin who he loved more than anything. Martin who he could get past his fear of vulnerability and his nonexistent communication skills and choking anxiety for. He could do this. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth.
He wished the words had just tumbled out, flowing out of him so fast he couldn’t even process what his own mouth was saying. But no, that’s rarely how these things work. Every word was an effort to form, sticking in his mouth like peanut butter. It was ok though because the words did get out, in the end.
“I, um, I have something to tell you,” he started eloquently.
Martin shifted on the other side of the door, pressing closer to hear Jon’s quiet voice. “Take your time, Jon, I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”
“I know I should have told you sooner but I didn’t- don’t really know how. I was going to tell you earlier but I sort of freaked myself out a bit,” a nervous chuckle and then more awkward silence before Jon realized he hadn’t actually said what he was trying to say. God this was hard.
“The thing is, I, um,” just spit it out “I’m ace.” he bit out the words, wrapping his arms around himself as he desperately wished to become one with the bathroom tiles. A breath passed without a response from the hallway and the anxious rambling side of his brain took over. “A-asexual, that is. I don’t really feel sexual attraction. Ever. In fact, the whole idea of that makes me just a bit, um, uncomfortable,” an understatement. Honestly just talking about it like this made him want to bury himself alive. “And I understand if you need some time to get used to this or you need some space. I understand if you are upset. I know I should have told you sooner but-”
“Jon!” Martin’s voice was gentle but insistent and, judging by the slight edge to his voice, he had called his name several times and Jon hadn’t heard. Jon snapped his mouth shut, rant ending as soon as it had begun. Just as well, he had pretty much run out of steam anyway.
“Jon,” He started again, quieter now that Jon was listening to him. “I want to answer you but I need you to see my face when I do. Can I open the door, love?”
Jon thought for a moment before wiping the tears from his face (he couldn’t remember when he started crying) and reached for the door handle, scooting out of the way as the door swung open. Martin took one look at his tear-stained face and disheveled hair and wordlessly opened his arms, a silent invitation. Jon took the invitation, drawn to his lover’s embrace like the needle of a compass is drawn North.
Martin held him for a moment, stroking his hair in silence. When Jon’s erratic breathing had returned to normal Martin spoke again, the low rumble of his voice vibrating through his chest where Jon had rested his head, “I love you, Jon. I love your mind and your passion. I love the way your nose wrinkles when you are upset and the way your eyes crease when you smile. I love your voice when you rant about your interests or when you sing to yourself if you think no one else can hear. I love everything about you and every time I learn something new about you it’s just another thing for me to love.” he pulled away just enough to slip a hand under Jon’s chin and gently tip his face up so they were meeting each other’s eyes. “I am not upset with you, Jon. Not for waiting to tell me and certainly not for being ace. Thank you for telling me, love. I want you to know that you can tell me anything, Jon. I will not judge you and I will not leave you. I want to know everything about you, Jon. The good, the bad, and everything in between. I love you, Jon.”
Jon was fully crying again by the time Martin finished his speech and he let the tears fall, closing his eyes and tipping his head to press their foreheads together. “I love you so much, Martin Blackwood.” He reached a still shaking hand up to Martin’s jaw, pulling him into a kiss. Martin tangled his fingers through Jon’s hair, returning the kiss with such tenderness that every thought in Jon’s mind melted away, leaving nothing but a gentle song of love and acceptance and safety.
There were more of these conversations to come, more awkward silences and anxiously rambled confessions. Hopefully, the ones to follow would have less hiding in bathrooms and more soft reassurances in warm embraces but with their communication track record, it wasn’t likely. But that was okay too because they both knew, deep down, that no matter what they would always end up back in each other’s arms. That knowledge wouldn’t fix everything, of course. There were still so many things they would have to work through, so many difficult conversations they still needed to have, so many problems that would take more than tearful embraces and heartfelt declarations of love to solve. What it was, was a foundation. Jon, for one, could not wait to see the life they would build together.