rusty_kink | Prompt Post: The Magnus Archives #1

Prompt Post: The Magnus Archives #1

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It’s why you took that risk and opened him up to me – no, shh…” He wiped the tears away as they fell from Martin’s eyes. “It’s not your fault. How were you to know? You both thought that he was the monster, the threat. But you did make it worse. You always do.
well uh that. that's hot. that's extremely--

i love this as a lacuna in canon, that's such an elegant ending, everything about this is just very precisely well done

ok but. this is just a reply to the author's note. i love both of their senses of humor for exactly the reasons you describe too and you are VALID

okay but like given he's... his own... very specific... kind of besotted in canon part of me is like? sad? at elias having the makes-sense-in-context optimistic takeaway that jon ultimately wants him back? oh no

https://play.acast.com/s/themagnusarchives/magbloopers-totallynormalrealhumans

have been thinking about the exchange at the end of this in the context of Martin doing The Voice for months now. doesn't it almost sound like an Elias impression to you?

(different anon) given the “setting them up while he’s here” energy “you’ll keep an eye on him, won’t you?” has in 160 i was reading it like. win-win-win “either martin chickens out, i get rid of human!martin (he’s dead/lost), or i get rid of human!martin (archivist i made your boyfriend more appealing ~~and will be watching the results :3~~. ur welcome)” tbh

you’re the author obvs it was just such a clear impression of jonah logic otherwise congruent with the text that i felt it might be enjoyable to share? anyway also i love your character work so much (part of why that reading was that strong for me is probably how well you write martin’s pull toward the lonely syncing up with jonah’s half-sadism half-pitching him on it tbh?) thank u 🙏

I love the way you think! You may actually be giving me a bit more credit than I deserve, but Jonah does have a way of getting into one's head.

I definitely feel that Jonah tries not to make any moves in which he can come out the loser, then I remember than he keeps daring people to kill him, hoping that the lives linked to his is enough to stop them from doing so.

I do wonder if, living as long as he has, sometimes he pushes the button, just to see what happens when he does.

Thanks!

Martin is a veritable smorgasbord of insecurities for Jonah to play with. I must admit that Elias's "I had something prepared but, ugh, you're right, there were better ways to fuck with you." before destroying the memory of Martin's longest relationship was... something. Yes.

This just strikes me as something that, even at the end of the world, they will never talk about. Also never brought up? Jon's knobby knees. No matter how cute Martin thinks they are.

Thanks!

Thank you! Until Jonah Magnus, I didn't know I could find jokes funny, sad, and infuriating at the same time. Thanks, Jonah, I guess?

“he had to know, to watch and see it all. that’s what this place is, jon, never forget it.” im not sure he can not press the button if given the opportunity to press it, if im honest

After having heard several people of various genders imitate the Elias voice, I have come to the conclusion that whilst Ben’s voice certainly doesn’t hurt, the Elias voice is just inherently Like That no matter whose vocal chords it’s going through.

Not sure of the etiquette around here, so sorry if this is pushy, but just. Dear god please tell me you’re planning to continue this, please. I’m dying.

Someone posted a prompt about omega Jon stealthing as an alpha/beta and I really liked that, so I wanted to prompt something in the same vein.

A/B/O where people lose most control of themselves during heats/ruts, one of those aus where whoever’s effected is basically only concerned with base needs.

Jon goes into heat at the archives the others try to take care of him. If there’s sex, I’d prefer it’d be slightly premeditated, like maybe jon comes to the others when he realizes what’s happening and gives them blanket permission.

The thing is, when Jon is only relying on instinct, his walls come down. He turns out to be either much MORE or much LESS wary of the others than they’d expect. If it’s less, he gets super affectionate, even clingy, with the others (especially Martin?) and cuddled up to them.

If it’s more, they realize that Jon doesn’t actually trust no ones going to hurt him and needs to be slowly, slowly coaxed into being taken care of. Lots of growling and cowering and other fear responses whenever anyone does anything.

I wrote up something here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/rusty_kink/works/27834835

It's definitely far less of a fluffy fun sort of take on it. It's a very angry Tim during season 2, after it comes out that Jon's been stalking him. Tim definitely takes the safeword seriously, though. And there's a bit of confusion at first when Jon safewords. But yeah. Verbal abuse from Tim to Jon, and Jon sorta spirals through a panic attack, but Tim helps him feel better and they start a reconciliation process.

OP here, it's like Christmas came early?? Season 2/3 Tim makes me SO sad, but this is so well written and the ending is so ;__; the boys are COMMUNICATING....he's going to buy him SOUP....cries alone in my bedroom at 6 am

I have SUCH a huge weak spot for Jon breaking down and the others realizing that Oh Jon Really Isn't Okay, and you captured that really well. Thank you so much for filling this!

So… I love Elias/Tim manipulation/abuse of Beholding powers/otherwise putting him in his place around the middle of season 3 (heck I have recs lmao), and I love the idea of Peter/Tim Lonely experimentation/playing-with-food (which I’ve seen prompted once but never written), and I ship the horrible old married monsters like my life depends on it.

Somehow despite this it took until right now for that to make me think of the equation “Peter & Elias playing stupid avatar games and/or sharing a meal” + “Tim is hot, a mere human, and a ticking time bomb” = Prompt idea

I would be into any variation on focusing on canon-typical fear and manipulation and discomfiture versus explicit sex, whether it’s Peter and Elias individually trading off aggrieving Tim and comparing notes or all three in a room together, but I think it would be very hot if Tim suffered more while he still could and the old bastard men had a nice time about it.

Sasha occasionally told stories about Artefact Storage. Usually when drunk.

Of course, Martin was usually drunk then, too. Tim was the one with the alcohol tolerance, and he swore up and down that the sober one never tells on the drunk ones. Still, Martin remembered enough vague details to have a sense of dread anticipation about going there.

“Don’t read it,” was all he was told as the book was handed to him.

It was bound in leather, like most Leitners, and stamped just in case Martin forgot what it was. Don’t read it? Not a concern. Martin wanted nothing to do with any of the powers that Leitners were supposed to contain. If anyone but Jon had asked for this, he would have refused, even Sasha. But Jon loathed Leitners. He’d be every bit as careful as Martin.

He returned to find the Archive in something of a tizzy.

“Get it!” Sasha called out as Tim flung his shoe at something on the wall. “Ooh, missed.”

“What are you…” Martin gasped and flung the book on his desk as he saw what was happening. “Stop, don’t hurt her!” She was gorgeous, reddish brown with yellow stripes on her legs and the cutest eyespots on her thorax. “She’s a cardinal spider! They’re very rare.”

“About to become rarer,” Tim promised, taking off his other shoe.

“They’re barely venomous,” Martin protested, ignoring Tim’s muttered barely. “I’ll get her down, just give me a second to grab a glass from the kitchen.”

They grumbled, but let him catch and release her. He suspected she’d be back the next time the weather turned, but decided not to say anything about that. By the time he returned, Jon was berating Tim for throwing his shoes around and Sasha was standing behind him, mock glaring at Tim. Martin wasn’t sure which one she was making fun of.

Jon turned to him. “It’s gone?”

“Yup,” Martin said cheerfully, happy to be the bearer of good news for once.

Jon just rolled his eyes. “Excellent. We’ve finally found something that matches your skillset. Now, if we could all return to our actual jobs?” He turned on his heel and marched back to his office.

“Right,” Tim said. “Back to work, you lot.” He elbowed Martin lightly as he passed. “Well done. And you know he’s actually grateful. No one hates spiders the way Jon hates spiders.”

“I know,” Martin said, miserably. It had not been his first, or even tenth misstep around Jon, but it had been a memorable one. “But he knows I don’t, so it’s not like…”

“Ahh, who cares? The important thing is it’s gone.” Tim sauntered back to his desk and started rifling through some files.

Martin settled in, frowning at an open book on his own desk. His eyes glanced over the words, and he started reading before remembering what it was.

"what was that that you started telling me the other day about a monkey's paw or something, Morris?"
"Nothing." said the soldier hastily. "Leastways, nothing worth hearing."

Martin gasped and slammed the book closed, his heart hammering. It was… it might be okay. Not all Leitners activated by reading. And usually it took more than a couple of lines. Probably. Maybe. Martin looked at the cover, which read “The Monkey's Paw by W. W. Jacobs”. The font was irregular and curved, and the words attached in odd places, like a strangely-designed web. Martin took it and clasped it to his chest as he walked towards Jon’s office and knocked.

“Yes?” Jon sounded impatient. “What is it now, a small rodent?” He looked up and his expression… softened. “Oh, Martin. It’s you.” He put his pen down and stood up. “What do you need?”

“Um. Ah. You requested this?” Martin said, tentatively holding out the book. Jon looked at it with distaste and snatched it from him.

“Yes, thank you.” Jon frowned. “I shouldn’t have sent you for it, you shouldn’t have had to…” He trailed off. “Thank you anyway.”

Martin nodded, not sure exactly how to react to a ‘thank you’ from Jon. “Well, it’s my job after all! I’ll, uh… see you later.”

“Of course.” Jon smiled at him and returned to his desk. Martin backed out of the room, closed the door, and took a deep breath.

“Whoa, you look…” Sasha looked between Martin and the door and her expression hardened. “What did he say to you this time?”

“Nothing!” Martin said, only then realizing how very weird that had been. “Nothing. He was… nice?”

Sasha peered at him. “I don’t believe you.”

“He was,” Martin insisted. “He was really… nice. And grateful? For the book? I dunno.”

“Wasn’t that a Leitner?” Tim asked, coming to join them. “Maybe it got into his head.”

“No, he was nice before I gave him the book,” Martin said, grabbing onto something Tim had said earlier. “Maybe he is grateful about that spider and just really weird about showing it?”

Tim and Sasha traded looks, and Tim shrugged. “Maybe. In any case, I’m not in a mood to try our luck.”

“Right, back to work,” Sasha said, and it was mostly forgotten for the day.

Martin was tidying up his desk when Jon came out of his office. Tim and Sasha had just left, and Martin had a few minutes before he had to leave. It was warmer waiting in the Archives than at the station. Martin turned, raising his hand for his usual, unreturned, well wishes, and found Jon walking towards him. “Jon…”

“Everyone else is gone?” Jon asked, not waiting for an answer before leaning up and kissing Martin briefly on the lips. “Want to head out together?”

If Martin had been Tim, he would have had a joke at the ready. Something about the ice boss melteth, or about the sexual harassment policies at the Institute. Martin wasn’t Tim. Martin just stood there, gaping.

Jon frowned. “You were leaving, weren’t you?” His impatient tone broke through Martin’s shock.

“Um. Yes. I. …was?”

Jon smiled. “I know we haven’t spent much time together, outside of work. Did you want to grab a bite?”

Jon had smiled at him in his office before. That was more smiles in one day than Martin usually racked up in a month. He’d counted.

“Are you going to fire me?” Martin blurted out.

The smile fell off Jon’s face. “No! Goodness, was that what you’ve been worrying about? No, I’ll just… we’ll just keep this on the down low.” His voice lowered for the last two words, like as if he was making a joke or something, and he looked hopefully up at Martin, his expression fading when Martin didn’t react. “I swear, Martin, I’m not going to let this interfere with our work relationship. If… if I have to, I’ll bring it up with Elias, but I’d really rather not.”

Bring what up? With Elias? But the important thing was that Jon wasn’t going to fire him. He could figure everything out later. “Okay, well then. I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Martin grabbed his bag and bolted.

He didn’t figure everything out. He hadn’t figured anything out by the time he walked into work. He’d loitered about two doors down from the Institute, waiting until the very last minute to come in on time.

“Nine on the dot,” Rosie said cheerfully as he walked in. “Had a bit of a run from the tube?”

“Made it, though,” Martin said, giving her a weak smile.

Tim and Sasha were already working, and Jon was locked in his office. Tim put a finger to his lips as Martin entered, and he realized that Jon must be reading one of those statements in his room. Martin nodded and started getting some tea ready.

He waited twenty minutes, since most statements took less than half an hour, and made up a cup just how Jon liked it. He waited outside as Jon’s voice switched from the bewildered, lost tone of the statement to his Archivist voice, calling the whole thing poppycock. Martin gave him a minute or so after the statement ended and knocked.

“Come in,” Jon said, sounding tired. He looked up and smiled when he saw Martin, but more like it was a tired reflex than anything else. Martin closed the door behind himself.

“Tea?”

“Thank you.”

It was awkward. Martin sat the tea down on the table and fretted.

Jon blew out a breath in frustration. “If we’re going to do this, can it wait until I’ve recovered?” he snapped. “I don’t know if I have the energy to do this again.” He’d started out sounding almost angry, but ended up tired and a little… sad.

Martin wrung his hands. “I… I don’t want to argue or anything. I’m just… did you read the Leitner yesterday?”

Jon snorted. “Yes, I decided to peruse a book of malevolent power before reading one of these damnable statements, because I am completely devoid of common sense. No, Martin, I haven’t even looked at the Leitner yet. I just wanted to see if it interacted with… something.”

“Did it?”

“No.” Jon sighed. “Thank you for the tea. You should go before the others get suspicious.”

“Of what?” Martin said. Jon looked at him like he was an idiot, which was nothing new, but also with a degree of fondness, which was. “Of what?” Martin asked again. “What is this?”

“I don’t know!” Jon said. “We haven’t exactly talked about it, and labels aren’t really my thing.”

“Labels?”

“We haven’t even really gone on a date, so we probably aren’t anything yet,” Jon continued. “If it’s too much, if you’re worried, we don’t have to…” He stopped and his hands clenched. “Damn it, no. I’m not giving up on us just because you’re having cold feet. We’re good together, Martin. I love you, and I want to make this work, but you have to talk to me!”

Martin felt like he’d been sniped. He could feel the blood drain from his face, his vision going grey, and the last thing he remembered was Jon’s shocked worried face as he blacked out.

“–was fine when he walked in, boss, promise.”

Tim. That was Tim. Martin felt like his head was in a fog, but he focused on that familiar voice and tried to pull himself out.

“He’s clearly not fine. Did he touch anything? Read anything?”

“Just set up his desk and made you tea.” That was Sasha.

“You’re sure? We’re surrounded by artefacts of unknown providence, maybe something was left out?”

That third voice sounded familiar, but Martin had never heard it sound so concerned, so… scared.

“He’s waking up.” Sasha again. “Maybe you could ask him and stop interrogating us?”

“Martin.” Warm, careful hands helping him up. Martin blinked and frowned. Jon. That voice was Jon. The face in front of his was Jon’s. “Are you alright?”

“Fainted,” Martin said. “Sorry?”

Jon laughed, relieved. “Nothing to be sorry for. But why did you faint?” Because you said you loved me, Martin didn’t answer. “Was it the Leitner? Did you read it yesterday?”

He had. But Jon looked so worried. Martin shook his head, then immediately regretted it. “Ow.”

“Sorry.” Jon gently stroked Martin’s hair and it felt really good. Martin looked around. They were still in Jon’s office, with the door open. Tim and Sasha were ‘working’, in that they were holding up case files while watching Jon and Martin like a pair of hungry seagulls.

“I’m fine,” Martin said. “I just missed breakfast. I’ll grab something and get to work.”

Jon peered into his face as if he could read through Martin’s deception. Martin was careful to put on his most guileless expression. Jon’s eyes narrowed, but he let Martin up.

Martin smiled reassuringly as he made his way to the kitchen, wincing as Jon returned it with a suspicious glare. He was beginning to get a bad feeling about this.

He put some toast in the toaster and filled the kettle with water. A few minute in, Tim joined him.

“Isn’t this what got you in trouble last time?”

“No,” Martin said. His fainting spell hadn’t had anything to do with tea. “Hey, d’you know the story of the monkey paw?”

“Not really,” Tim said. “Something about wishes that come true in the worst possible way. Sasha might know more, especially if we have one in Artefact Storage.” He grinned. “Why? Wanna make a wish and bet everything on it coming true?”

Martin swallowed hard. “I think… I think maybe I already have.”

Tim dragged Sasha into the kitchen and Martin tried to explain. “See, I didn’t mean to, but the book was already open, and I only read a few lines, and Tim reminded me how much Jon hates me, and I was thinking about how much I’d like to get him to like me, and…”

Sasha sighed. “Well, maybe the price is that you faint every time you talk to him.”

“I didn’t faint last night,” Martin said.

Tim raised his eyebrows. “What did you talk about last night?”

He kissed me. “I thought he was going to fire me. Because he was acting weird.” Tim looked disappointed in the answer.

“We can run some experiments, if you’re willing,” Sasha said. “Control some variables, extract some data.”

“Please stop talking dirty to us at work, Sasha,” Tim said primly. “It’s inappropriate.”

Sasha hit his arm without taking her attention from Martin. “Or we could let him know what’s happening and leave the decision to him.”

Martin groaned. “He already hates me–”

“No he doesn’t!” Tim said, suddenly excited. “He doesn’t hate you at all! We can tell him you cursed him and he probably won’t even get angry because he likes you so much now.”

“I don’t…” Sasha started, but Tim had already grabbed Martin’s arm and dragged him back to the Archive proper.

“This is perfect. We’ll break the spell or whatever, and then we can start setting the two of you up properly.” Tim stopped. “Although, Martin. Are you sure? You can do better.”

Sasha sighed. “Tim, Martin clearly wanted Jon to like him like a normal person would. He’s not you, he doesn’t want to get into Jon’s pants.”

Martin felt like his face could power a small town with the heat it was giving off.

“I don’t want to get into Jon’s pants,” Tim protested. “Martin’s? Maybe. Yours? Not any more, you have a mean right hook. But not Jon’s.”

“Why not?” Martin asked without thinking.

Tim smiled, and it wasn’t quite his usual cheery grin. “I like being appreciated. Now. Let’s get you your man.”

Martin knocked on Jon’s door.

“Yes?” Jon looked up and smiled, again, as Martin walked in. “Martin, I… I see you’ve brought everyone. What is this?”

“We think you’re under a spell,” Tim said, as if it wasn’t ridiculous.

Jon, predictably, scoffed. “Really? Martin faints, and I’m the one under the spell.”

“It’s Martin’s spell,” Tim said, and Martin was caught between gratitude to Tim for taking the lead, and the desire to just shut him up. “He cast it on you.”

“Oh, really?” Jon caught Martin’s eye and gave a half-smile, as if to share his amusement. Somehow that small, intimate gesture made Martin feel almost as overwhelmed as when Jon had offhandedly declared his love for him. “What kind of spell?”

“A love spell!” Tim crowed, and Sasha physically stepped in front of him.

“We think he used the Leitner,” she said, and Jon actually sat up and seemed to take her seriously. “The Money’s Paw. It seems like it can manipulate people, make them do things for the reader.”

“Three wishes,” Jon said. “The reader gets three wishes. They are all granted as if they were curses. So you think Martin’s wish cursed me.” He splayed his arms, exposing himself. “How? I haven’t changed.”

“You’re nice,” Martin blurted out. “To me, at least.”

Jon sighed. “Of course I’m nice to you. I’m in love with you.” He looked at Tim and Sasha. “This isn’t exactly how I meant for you to find out, but it seemed inevitable. I’ll speak with Elias and we’ll do our best to see that it doesn’t interfere with the work of the Archives.”

Tim and Sasha stared at him, then at each other.

“Told you it was a love spell,” Tim said quietly.

Jon stood from his desk. “I think I’ll see if Elias is free now. Better sooner than later for these things.” He squeezed Martin’s hand as he passed. “It’ll be alright, Martin. I’ll make sure of it.”

He left the three of them alone in his office. Martin stared after him.

“Right. Well. I like this new boss,” Tim said. “I don’t see any reason to change anything.” He clasped Martin on the shoulder. “Well done, you. Please never share any details about anything unless it’s embarrassing for Jon.”

“Sasha…” Martin said pleadingly as Sasha followed Tim.

She turned and shrugged. “He smiled at you, Martin. He looks… happy.” She sighed. “I know this isn’t right, but… it’s hard to take that away from him. And you.”

Martin felt a little foolish that no one was questioning whether he wanted Jon to be in love with him. Probably because this was due to his wish. Martin let his head hit the desk. No matter how this turned out, everyone would know that he’d been hopelessly crushing on Jon.

A ding from his email revived him. It was from Elias. He wanted to meet.

Elias smiled and gestured for Martin to take a seat. Martin did, after closing the door behind him. “Ah, Martin. It’s been a while since I’ve had reason to review your file. I believe the last time was three months ago, when Jon begged me to, and I quote take this miserable excuse for a filing clerk off my team end quote. Seems like a lot has happened in three months.”

“I… I’m pretty sure those notes are supposed to be confidential,” Martin said faintly.

“He’s said worse, in official statements, no less.”

That was… unsurprising. The Archives would always have a record of how much Jon despised Martin.

Elias leaned forward. “Jon seems sincere in his feelings. As I said, a lot can happen in three months. I’d like to hear your side of the story.”

Martin ended up telling him everything – about the Leitner, the fainting spell, the love confessions. Everything but the kiss. “I don’t know what to do,” Martin said miserably.

Elias listened patiently, non-judgementally. “This is quite a pickle. I would hate to destroy a valuable artefact because one of my employees has been incautious in his dealings. I’m sure Jon would agree.”

“He doesn’t think he’s being controlled.”

“They never do,” Elias mused. “Nevertheless, this might not be ideal, but I don’t see how it negatively affects the Institute. You may devote whatever time you deem appropriate into fixing this mistake, but I’m not going to invest any other resources towards it. As for the Leitner, keep it. You may need it for your studies.”

Martin stood, hearing the dismissal in Elias’s words. He hesitated at the door.

“Yes?” Elias asked.

Martin swallowed hard. “What about our… relationship?”

Elias smiled. “By all means, Martin. As long as it doesn’t interfere with your work or Jon’s, live out your little fantasy.”

That… wasn’t quite a blessing. But Martin would take it.

He made his way to the Archives, his legs as heavy as if he were wearing weighted boots. Tim and Sasha were waiting for him. “Well?” they both asked together.

“Elias said it was okay,” Martin said, still a little stunned.

“But you told him,” Sasha said. “About the Leitner and… and everything.”

Martin nodded. “He said… by all means.”

“Huh,” Tim said. “I feel like we might want to review the HR sexual harassment manual for the definition of ‘consensual’.”

Sasha sighed. “He’s right. If this is the Leitner, Jon is doing this against his will.”

“So am I!” Martin protested. “This isn’t how I wanted anything to go.” He looked at Tim and Sasha. “It isn’t!”

“We know,” Sasha said a bit too quickly to be sincere. “It’s just… be careful Martin. Be careful with him and… and with yourself.”

“I have binders of hot guys who would be so into you,” Tim said. “Just say the word, and I’ll have them eating out of your hand.”

Martin felt some of the heaviness leave him. “Thanks guys. I think… I think I need to speak with Jon. Set some boundaries. That sort of thing.”

Sasha squeezed his shoulder, right where Jon had done. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

In fact, apart from the quick kiss and the occasional gentle touch, Jon hadn’t been touchy at all. And all his touches had been chaste. Nice, even loving, but hardly mind-blowing. Martin considered that as he knocked on Jon’s door.

“Yes.” Jon gave him that smile again, that smile that Martin was starting to think of as his. “Did you and Elias have a good chat?”

“We did,” Martin said. “He reminded me of how much you despised me until recently.”

Jon blushed. “Oh, he…” He took a deep breath. “Of course he would. I’d apologize, but we both know those words were said in moments of stress.” He peered at Martin. “Unless you want an apology? I mean, I’d be happy to…”

“No!” The last thing Martin wanted to do was compel Jon to apologize for his (hurtful, cruel) honest thoughts. “No, that’s not… he… He said it would be okay.”

“Good.” Jon smiled. “Can I take you out for dinner tonight, then?”

“Um. Actually, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about?” Martin stuttered. “I… I want to take this slow.”

Jon nodded, as if Martin’s request was reasonable. “That’s fair. After all, I have kept you waiting long enough. We can certainly take things at your pace. Is dinner taking things too quickly?”

“I guess not?” A meal in public? That had to be safe enough. “No, it’s… fine. Sure. I’d love to.”

Jon’s smile returned. “Good. We’ll leave after work then?”

Just dinner. It would be fine. “Alright I… I’ll see you then.”

Martin wasn’t sure how they’d gone from chatting in a mid-end Spanish restaurant to frantically making out on his couch, but when Jon tugged his shirt off, he wasn’t exactly in a frame of mind to figure it out.

“Martin,” Jon breathed out, running a hand down Martin’s chest before surging forward to kiss him again. He kissed like he did everything, confidently, thoroughly, and if there was something wrong with his technique, well, Martin was hardly in a position to know, was he?

All he knew was that this was, literally, a hundred dreams and a thousand daydreams come true.

He pulled Jon into his lap, and Jon fit perfectly, arms around his neck, hands threaded through Martin’s hair as he kissed him. His head was whirling, but he had latched onto the idea that he wasn’t doing anything wrong if he just let Jon lead, and it had led them this far, so…

No harm, no foul.

Jon made a happy little groan as Martin gently pressed him forward. “Bed?” he asked, hopefully. Martin carried them to his room, collapsing backwards with Jon still on him.

Jon had his trousers undone and pulled down within seconds. “May I?” Martin frantically nodded and Jon wrapped his hand around Martin’s cock and started pulling gently, lying half on top of him and kissing at his throat and neck.

Even if he’d actually tried, Martin didn’t think he could have lasted long with that. Jon nipped lightly at his jaw and he came with a groan, embarrassingly quickly.

Jon sighed, deep and satisfied, as Martin’s heartrate climbed down from dangerous to merely fast. “That was lovely.”

“What about you?” Martin asked, fuzzy-headed and high off his orgasm. He reached for Jon, but Jon pulled away with a kiss.

“You’re a bit of a mess,” Jon said. “I’ll grab a cloth or something. Bathroom was that way?” And he slipped off to take care of Martin.

He was going to take care of Martin.

The warmth of that thought wrapped itself around Martin and he drifted off to sleep even as Jon returned to wipe him clean. He’d never felt so wonderful before.

He awoke before his alarm, with the faint sense that something was… off. He was still in his trousers and socks, and the extra blanket from the linen closet was the only thing covering his chest. Beside him, he could hear the faint sounds of someone else breathing, steady and deep. He turned his head and saw Jon, nestled into his bed, under the actual bed sheets. He looked younger like this, even younger than when he smiled. Martin felt tenderness well up inside him, until he remembered exactly what had led to Jon sleeping next to him.

“Fuck!” Martin managed to keep his voice quiet, but it was no less heartfelt for that. He tried to scramble out of bed as quickly as he could, while not disturbing Jon, which led to him nearly toppling over into this bedside table. He got his feet back under him and rushed out of the room, breathing hard. “Shit!” That was a little louder, but still quiet, when all Martin wanted to do was scream. What had he done?

He checked the time. Barely six. His mind blank with panic, and with nothing better to do, he put the kettle on for tea.

The whistling must have woken Jon up, because by the time Martin had poured his cup, Jon padded in on bare feet, rubbing his eyes.

He hadn’t slept in his trousers. He wasn’t wearing anything except his pants and one of Martin’s t-shirts.

Martin dropped the tea.

“Oh!” Jon started fully awake and grabbed a cloth. “Don’t move! The shards can be hard to find, and they’re very sharp.” He picked up the larger pieces and swept the cloth over the floor several times before declaring it safe for Martin to take a step.

Martin still didn’t move. He just stared at Jon.

“What?” Jon asked, and there was more than a touch of irritation there. “I know how to clean up broken crockery.”

“I… yes… of course you do,” Martin babbled. “Everyone does, it’s… it’s common knowledge, isn’t it, and you know so much, don’t you, and…”

Jon looked at him for a long moment, then huffed and dumped everything, cloth and all, in Martin’s trash bin. Martin gratefully took the cue to shut up.

“Ah, do you want anything to eat?” Martin asked hesitantly.

Jon shrugged, his back still to Martin. “Coffee, if you have it. I don’t usually eat breakfast.”

“What? But it’s the most important meal of the day,” Martin said.

“That’s been debunked,” Jon retorted.

“It’s still fuel, and you, even you, run on fuel.” Martin grabbed a frying pan and rummaged through the fridge for eggs. “I don’t know how you get so much done, running on empty like you do…” He trailed off as Jon wrapped his arms around him from behind.

“There you are,” Jon said softly. “I was worried.”

Martin froze, put the eggs down, and carefully turned around. “Jon?”

“I know you wanted to take things slowly,” Jon said, stepping back to give Martin room. “And last night was…” he ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “Not slowly. I’m sorry.”

“No, I…” Martin laughed, but it mostly stuck in his throat. “I feel like a selfish git. Everything that happened last night was… was like a dream come true for me, but I didn’t even try to do anything for you…” That… wasn’t the problem, though, was it? That was just what Martin wanted the problem to be.

Jon actually relaxed a little. “Oh, that.” He waved it off. “Don’t worry about that. You couldn’t have gotten me off anyway.”

“Excuse me,” Martin sputtered.

“No! No, it’s not that, it’s just that it’s hard,” Jon glared as Martin snickered. “It’s difficult for me to do anything. Sexual. Even on my own. And when I do, it… it’s really not worth the effort.” His face softened. “But I liked touching you. Watching you. It was like you were a different person, but still… Martin.”

Martin hated that, even though Jon was only saying this because of a Leitner curse, he could feel himself melting at Jon’s words. And he hated that, when Jon stepped forward and kissed him, he was weak enough to kiss back.

He did manage to push Jon away before he embarrassed himself by getting hard again. “Go freshen up, and I’ll get breakfast started.”

As he cooked, Martin mused the Jon in his fantasies had been as into whatever they were doing as Martin was. This Jon was… well, negotiating partially incompatible sexualities wasn’t exactly one of Martin’s fantasies, but it was more real. That was how the real Jon was. He wasn’t some puppet manipulated by evil magic, he was just Jon. A Jon who was in love with Martin.

That didn’t make the guilt settling in Martin’s stomach any easier to manage.

When Jon emerged, dressed in yesterday’s clothes, Martin had a plate of eggs and toast ready for him, as well as a cup of instant coffee of questionable quality. “I don’t know how you take your coffee,” Martin explained as he set up the sugar bowl and milk and cream. “Is that good?”

“It’s perfect.” As it turned out, Jon took his coffee like he took his tea, with a splash of cream and half a tea-spoon of sugar. He took a sip, and didn’t make any of the satisfied faces he usually made when drinking tea. Martin still noted his preference as he tucked in.

Jon ate dutifully, managing an egg and half a slice of toast. Martin watched him eat and felt the same melty happiness he’d felt on and off all morning. This was safe. Jon smiled apologetically as he pushed his plate away and settled in with his coffee. Martin didn’t mind.

When Jon picked up the plates, though, Martin stopped him. “I’ll finish up. It’s my flat.”

“And I’m a guest,” Jon said. He nodded. “Alright, but I’ll pull my own weight as soon as you’re comfortable letting me.”

That could take weeks. Months. A dizzying amount of visits. Martin’s hands trembled as he dropped the dishes in the sink. Usually, he’d just soak them and leave them to do after dinner, but usually he wasn’t up this early, and usually didn’t want something to do to keep his mind off the fact that Jon had just invited himself over for an indeterminate amount of times.

He felt Jon watching him do the washing up and shivered. Had Jon’s gaze always been so intense that it was palpable? It was almost a relief when Jon came up behind him and gently leaned against his back.

“I have to run home and grab a change of clothes,” Jon said, and Martin could feel the vibrations of his voice through his back. “I don’t suppose… would you like to come along? There’s plenty of time.”

It was just going to Jon’s flat so he could get dressed. Nothing untoward there. Martin nodded, rinsing off the last plate and setting it to dry. “Sure. Just let me get ready.”

He threw on a decent outfit and freshened up as quickly as he could before grabbing his bag. “All set.” Jon immediately took his hand and laced their fingers together the moment Martin locked his door. Martin didn’t fight it.

Jon lived fairly close and, even in rush hour, it didn’t take long. His flat was nicer and closer to the Institute, but it was also somewhat austere. Not clean, there was a faint patina of dust over everything except the bookshelves and one of the reading chairs, but almost sterile. It was decorated in tasteful greys and off-white, with plain wooden shelves and counters. There was one chair at a small table, and a couch that looked like it had been bought because people owned couches. Martin peeked into Jon’s fridge while he dressed, and was relieved to see some food, even if it was mostly sandwich fixings and drinks. He’d moved to the bookshelf that seemed to see the most use, when Jon returned, dressed in clothes that were very similar to what he’d been wearing.

“You look nice,” Martin said, because he was an idiot.

Jon didn’t comment, which was probably for the best. He looked around the flat, frowning. “It doesn’t really look lived-in, does it?”

“It’s very neat,” Martin said loyally.

Jon shot him a look. “Your flat was homey. Comfortable. This place looks like a robot lives here.”

“If by ‘homey’, you mean small and cramped and messy, sure,” Martin said, not touching the robot comment. Jon smiled at him

“Maybe you can make it more homey here,” he said, moving slowly towards Martin. “Toss a jumper over the back of a chair. Leave a book out half-read, or a forgotten cup of tea. Proof that someone here is alive.” He reached Martin and carefully undid the zipper to Martin’s trousers.

Martin wanted to protest, but his tongue felt too big and clumsy. “Ah… Jon…”

“We have time,” Jon said, gently pushing Martin towards the couch as his trousers fell to his legs. “I checked.” He tugged Martin’s underwear down and Martin felt the back of his knees hit the couch and he fell back, legs splayed open as Jon knelt before him.

“What are you…”

“I want to know what you taste like,” Jon said. “And I wanted to do this here, in my space. Is that okay?”

Martin should have said no. Or at least shook his head if he couldn’t speak. But he just sat there, frozen, as Jon took the small, helpless noise he made as consent and held his cock steady as he dipped his head to, as he’d promised, taste it.

Martin couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t a frantic, unplanned makeout session on a couch, or a quick handjob on a bed. This had been plotted, planned out, and Jon seemed to be dragging it out, taking his time, mapping Martin’s cock with his tongue and lips. Martin’s hand found its way into Jon’s hair, and Jon smiled.

“Tell me,” he said, ducking lower to nose at the skin behind Martin’s cock, his breath tickling the inside of Martin’s thigh and his balls with every word. “Tell me what you want, how this feels, what you like.”

The hand not in Jon’s hair tightened into a fist, Martin’s dull nails digging into his skin. “I… this feels…” Jon pressed a sucking kiss to the underside of Martin’s cock and Martin groaned deeply. “I never imagined you…”

“No?” Jon asked, pulling back to look Martin in the face. “You never imagined me…?”

“Not like this. Not…” Martin groaned again as Jon, never dropping his gaze, wrapped his lips around the head of Martin’s cock and sucked.

Jon didn’t take much in, and his teeth occasionally pressed into the tender tissue of Martin’s erection, but just watching Jon go down on him was good enough to bring him close to the edge. Martin tensed up and gently pulled Jon away.

The wet sound of suction breaking as Jon pulled off was almost enough to bring Martin off the edge. Jon’s impatient, “What?” almost did it as well.

“I’m gonna,” Martin said, continuing to tug Jon away. He’d just gotten changed, he couldn’t get dirty.

“Ah,” Jon said, in understanding, he tightened his grip and pulled a few times, and Martin came undone. He tried not to get any mess on Jon’s couch, but failed miserably at that. Jon handed him some tissue and he dabbed at it, as well as his thighs. Jon made a soft noise and bent down to lick one of the streaks clean. He had a screwed-up expression as he pulled back, as if considering what he had tasted, before shrugging and smiling. Martin stared at him.

Jon stared back. “What? I was curious.”

“How was it?”

“Salty, bitter, not altogether unpleasant, but…” Jon shrugged again. “How was it for you?”

“It was…” Martin couldn’t put it into words, especially as the guilt crashed down on him again. “I… uh… I’d appreciate some warning next time?”

Jon stood up, ran a hand through his hair, and looked ready for work. “Alright. I just thought that being impulsive had worked well before.”

“Sure, right,” Martin said. “But I think that, moving forward, we should check in a little more.”

“Alright,” Jon said again. Martin stood, legs shaky, and pulled on his pants. He noticed Jon smiling at something and turned to look at the spreading stain on the couch. “Now it looks lived-in,” Jon said with some satisfaction. He took Martin’s hand. “Ready?”

Martin nodded. What else could he do?

Jon gave him a light kiss on the cheek and disappeared into his office as soon as they arrived. Martin sighed and slumped at his desk, grateful that at least Tim and Sasha weren’t in yet.

“So, you and the boss just strolled in here together?” Tim said a few minutes later as he walked in. “Sasha and I’ll be wanting that story as soon as she gets here.”

Martin banged his head on the desk in reply.

They spoke in the kitchen. “What happened?” Sasha asked directly.

Martin didn’t want to tell them. “We went out for dinner, then back at my place, and we fell asleep and swung by Jon’s this morning on the way to work.” Technically true.

“Alright,” Tim said. “First things first. What does Jon’s flat look like?” Sasha sighed. “What? It could be important.”

“It’s very tidy,” Martin said. Anything else, about the barrenness, the lack of personal touches, would be abusing Jon’s trust.

Tim sighed. “Boring. Okay, secondly, what did you do at your place?” Martin blushed. “Martin! We’re trying not to take advantage of an evil curse here!” Tim mostly sounded proud, though.

“It’s not like that!” Martin protested. “He’s not like that.” Although, after this morning, Martin wasn’t entirely sure of that. “He slept under the covers, and I slept on top of them.” Again, technically true.

“Did you see him naked?”

“No!” …not completely.

Sasha held her hand up in front of Tim’s face before he could ask another question. “Is he still the same? Did he wake up still… in love with you?”

“Ah, yeah,” Martin said, blushing again. “We had breakfast, and he actually ate something.”

“True love,” Sasha said, smiling. It was easier being teased by her than by Tim.

“So he’s still cursed,” Tim said. “And we have no idea what to do next.”

“I do,” Sasha said. “Artefact Storage has records as well, you know. I’ll get them and then see if any statements seem to match.”

Tim frowned. “Monkey’s paw, hmm? I have a few ideas of my own, but I’ll need that book.” He grinned. “Hey, Martin, go bother Jon for me.”

“This is my new role, then, is it?” Martin asked, smiling. They were going to help him. “I see how it is.”

Sasha’s eyes widened. “We have a runner for Jon,” she breathed excitedly. “This is the first time that’s ever happened.”

“Well, hopefully we get to the bottom of this soon, and you won’t anymore,” Martin said determinedly. He stood to get Tim his book. “Thanks, guys.”

“Anytime.”

“You’d do the same for us.”

He waited outside Jon’s door for a moment, just to check that he wasn’t recording a statement. Not because he was scared, or anything. Actually, it was past ten, maybe he should grab a cup of tea…

“Come in Martin,” Jon called. Martin gulped and entered. “I could hear you hovering outside.”

“Sorry.” Martin flushed as Jon smiled warmly at him. “I just… the Leitner you were using… are you done with it?”

Jon looked towards the book. “Oh, that? Yes, actually. I was planning on returning it to Artefact Storage on our way out tonight.”

Our way out. Martin shivered. “It’s just… Tim wanted to see it.”

“Tim?” Jon frowned. “Why would Tim…” He sighed. “This is about the love spell thing isn’t it?”

“It’s not… not about that,” Martin said, cagy as ever.

“Well, he’d better not get behind on his actual work,” Jon grumbled, handing the book over to Martin. “You either. I don’t want anyone spending Institute time on this.”

Elias had already given Martin permission, if not Tim or Sasha. “Well, I’ll just make sure this gets back eventually. I was the one who signed it out, after all.”

“Fair enough.” Jon still looked disturbed. “Martin… you don’t… I know Tim and Sasha like teasing each other and us, and I know Tim certainly can cross some lines, but you’re not taking this whole curse thing… seriously are you?”

Martin most definitely was. “Of course not! I agreed to go home with you tonight, didn’t I?”

“…did you?”

Martin rewound the conversation, and realized that Jon had just implied that they’d leave the Institute together, nothing else. “Well, I…”

“Martin…” A slow, broad smile crept over Jon’s face. “Do you want to come home with me tonight?” His voice was warm, just short of teasing. Martin blushed.

“No! Well, that is… I shouldn’t.”

Jon stood up and came around to Martin, reaching up to gently caress his cheek. “Will you come home with me tonight, Martin?”

Martin felt his legs go weak. “…yes.” Jon kissed him.

“Well,” Jon said, stepping away and clearing his throat, his voice gradually returning to normal. “You should get that to Tim, along with my warning not to slack off.”

“Right,” Martin said, still dazed as he left the office.

“What did he do?” Tim asked, taking the book from Martin and getting a good look at Martin’s face.

Martin couldn’t even lie. “He invited me back to his place after work. And kissed me.”

Tim glanced over at where Sasha was looking through some files, far away enough not to overhear them, and leaned in, lowering his voice. “Do you need some condoms?”

“Tim!” Martin fell backwards in his haste to get away. “That’s not…”

“Fine!” Tim said before Martin could really start ranting. “Fine.” Sasha was looking over at them suspiciously. “If you do…” He winked and opened his desk drawer. Martin didn’t even bother looking before running away.

He didn’t have any leads, so he buried himself in other work, picking up what slack he could for Sasha and Tim as they helped him with his problem.

Later, over lunch, they reviewed what they had found.

“The first two wishes seem to come true in a ‘natural’ way,” Sasha said, leafing through her files. “Usually through people making decisions they might not otherwise have made, often for material gain for the reader.” She pulled out a page. “Often inheritances from distant relatives or as part of a charity stunt. Obviously the inheritances imply some dead people, and the organizations that arrange the charity stunts usually file for bankruptcy within a year. But that bad luck doesn’t usually rebound on the wisher until the third wish.” She plopped the page down, with relish. “Jason Downey, forty-six. Healthy as of his last physical at age forty-five. Died of an aneurism during a three-way, wished to be ‘happy for the rest of my life’.” The photograph showed someone who… looked happy. Dead, but happy. Sasha presented another sheet, two hospital death certificates. “Marianne Cloude. Thirty-three. Wished for a child. Died moments after her son was born. Son died three days later, never named.” She rifled through the files, but Tim raised his hand.

“Enough, we get the pattern. Do they all end in death?” Tim asked. Martin felt queasy.

“Actually, no,” Sasha said. “But they all end badly. The point is, I think, that as long as the wisher wasn’t sure what they were doing, they didn’t get hurt. As soon as they knew, they were targeted. That seems to take two wishes for most people. We managed it in one, at least.”

“Great. So Martin’s next wish is gonna get him killed or maimed or whatever.” Tim at least had the grace to look upset by this. “But his first wish is going well… maybe just don’t make a second wish?”

Sasha frowned. “How did you make this wish, Martin? Every case associated with this book has had people actively stating their wish out loud, but I’m pretty sure Tim or I would have noticed if you’d said anything about… about Jon.”

“I don’t know!” Martin said. “I just read two lines reactively, like when there’s words in front of you and you just read them?” Both researchers nodded. “And… and they’re two lines that are in the published story, I checked. There wasn’t anything special or Leitner-y about them.”

Tim lit up. “I have a theory.” He shifted away from Sasha. “Smirke’s list of–ow!” Not far enough away that she couldn’t kick his shin.

“Not this again,” Sasha groaned. She turned to Martin. “He has this insane theory that every terror can be categorized into fourteen sub-types.”

“It’s not my theory,” Tim protested. “Robert Smirke was a contemporary of Jonah Magnus.”

“And Jonah Magnus broke ranks with him because he turned out to be a kook,” Sasha retorted, in the tone of someone who’d had this argument a dozen times over.

Martin felt like a third wheel. “What does this have to do with the book?”

Tim drew out his papers, while Sasha complained that Martin was taking him seriously.

“I thought The Flesh, at first,” Tim said. “You know, monkey’s paw, sex, that sort of thing.” Martin blushed furiously, but neither Tim nor Sasha were paying attention to him. “But then I saw the cover, and the more Sasha talked about how people were affected, the more I suspected The Web.”

Intrigued despite himself, Martin leaned forward. “The Web?”

“Thought you’d like that,” Tim grinned. “Spiders, arachnophobia, yeah, but more importantly manipulation. The fear of something getting into your head, making you do something you don’t want to, or worse…” His grin widened. “That you do want to.”

“You think the book manipulated Martin?” Sasha said, less sceptical than before.

“No. Well… maybe. But mostly I’m thinking it’s manipulating Jon. I mean, it would already have had a foothold in him, with how afraid he is of spiders.”

“That’s… a pretty big assumption,” Sasha said, but she wasn’t outright discounting it.

Tim latched onto that. “Think about it, though! Martin partially reads a Leitner related to The Web, just after bravely rescuing a spider, and wants something that The Spider can give him. It’s not like the other wishes, not really. It’s a… favour for a favour.”

“You think the book… likes me?” Martin said incredulously.

“I think The Web might like you,” Tim said. “At least you wouldn’t be a good victim, with how much you like spiders.” And manipulation? Martin didn’t ask. He didn’t want to hear the answer.

“That would change things,” Sasha said slowly. “We should go to Elias.”

Tim looked taken aback. “You’re going from ‘insane theory’ to ‘recruit the big gun’ that quickly?”

“Normally, I would go to Jon, but he refuses to listen,” Sasha said. “Besides, I don’t think he’d know more about this than we do. Leitners, sure, they were always an interest of his, but if this isn’t a Leitner thing, not really…”

“I already talked to him,” Martin reminded them. “He seemed… fine with this.”

“Well, then, as far as I can see it, we have two choices. Try to break the spell, or live with Jon-and-Martin, the most awkward couple ever,” Tim said.

“I’d be fine with Jon-and-Martin, if Jon had chosen it,” Sasha said. Martin sunk further into his seat. “And it’s not fair to Martin! How would you like it if someone you wanted suddenly wanted you back, but not of their own free will.”

“I’d love it,” Tim said reflexively, then actually thought about it. “I mean… no. That’d suck.” He brightened. “At least Martin’s too much of a gentleman to take advantage.”

Martin wanted the chair to swallow him whole. “…right.”

Neither of them noticed his embarrassment, caught up in the mystery of it all.

They didn’t have a plan after lunch, other than Tim continuing to research into The Web and Sasha looking for rare examples of people using Leitners and not having something horrible happen to them. Tim gave Martin back the book, and Martin spent a few unproductive minutes staring at it.

“Martin.” Jon’s voice brought him out of his reverie.

“Ah.” Martin jumped, but only a little. “Yes?”

Jon tossed a few papers on his desk. “The citations on this are sloppy. You’re going to have to redo them.” He frowned. “And you’re still hanging onto that thing?”

“Sorry, I…” Martin ignored the comment on the book. “I’ll get those done right away.”

“See that you do,” Jon said, glaring one last time at the book before leaving. “And return that bloody book!”

Martin sighed. They were done with it. He could just return it. Or… or he could read it. Better hung for a sheep than a lamb, after all, and…

Sasha’s hand came down hard, slamming the cover of the book closed. Martin hadn’t even realized he was opening it. “Martin!”

“What? I…” Martin shook himself. “Oh. Right. Sorry?”

Sasha took the book away from him, frowning like she wasn’t mad, just… disappointed. “Let me look over those citations real quick.” Martin meekly handed them over. Sasha signed. “Honestly, you’re a better researcher than Jon gives you credit for, but you keep making sloppy mistakes you should have left in undergrad. Did you just beat up nerds and make them do the citations for you?”

Martin laughed. “You know me. So violent and pushy.” Sasha smiled.

“I’ll return the book. Don’t think Tim and I didn’t notice you doing our tedious busywork this morning. You don’t owe us anything for our help.” She grinned. “Maybe Jon will, once this is all sorted out.”

Martin realized he’d been dreading getting this ‘all sorted out’. What would Jon think of him then?

Better hung for a sheep than a lamb.

Jon’s place still looked like it was a picture in a catalogue for ‘young professionals’. He hung his keys by the door and toed off his shoes before walking in. Martin followed suit, then stopped, staring, as Jon loosened his tie and undid his top button.

Jon smiled at him and turned and walked away to his room. Was that an invitation? An invitation to what? Martin felt like a coward as he awkwardly waited for Jon to come back. He hadn’t even closed the door to his room. That was clearly an invitation, right?

When Jon came out, he was dressed… comfortably. Loose slacks and soft t-shirt. He looked like a revelation. Martin made a small noise and Jon gave him a quick peck before opening the fridge.

“Looks like… we’re probably better off ordering in,” Jon said. “And preferences?”

“Not… not really,” Martin said, watching the t-shirt hang off Jon’s back as he leaned over a little. He hadn’t even tucked it in, and Martin was sure he could slide his hand in and up that warm skin…

Jon stood up and called for pizza. They had twenty minutes before it arrived.

Making out with a deadline was nice, too. Martin reminded himself that he couldn’t get too hot and bothered, as the delivery would be there any moment. Jon didn’t seem to be taking that into consideration, lowering his hands from Martin’s shoulders to his pants a few minutes in.

“Jon!”

“What?” Jon looked up at him, smiling mischievously. “It’s the only pair you have. Wouldn’t want them getting dirty.”

“Yes, but…” Martin relaxed as Jon just sighed and moved his hands back up, pulling Martin in for more kisses.

The pizza arrived. They ate. Martin barely tasted anything. Jon put the leftovers in his fridge and turned to Martin. “Now what?”

“I don’t…” Martin looked around. Jon didn’t even have a TV. He could hardly ask Jon to tell him about his day; Martin had been there for most of it. That didn’t leave a lot of options. “Any books you’d recommend?”

Jon sighed and gave him a small kiss. “Actually, yes.”

And that was how Martin found himself reading about airplane crashes. “There’s something there,” Jon had said. “It’s one of the safest forms of transportation, and so many people are afraid of it.” The recounting of the investigators and survivors wasn’t all that enlightening, however. Martin was just willing to chalk it up to the fear of the unknown if Jon asked him his thoughts about it.

They read side-by-side on the couch and it was… nice. Really nice. Jon would occasionally make noises as if he wanted to argue with the authors, or like they’d made a particularly interesting point. Martin gave up on reading his book and focused on watching Jon out of the corner of his eye.

He was beautiful like this. Relaxed and in his element and comfortable and happy. Martin smiled and settled back, turning himself so that he was better positioned for his peripheral vision to get a better view of Jon.

If he hadn’t been trying so hard to see what he wasn’t quite looking at, he might have missed the spider, scuttling against the back wall.

It shouldn’t have bothered him. Spiders, especially small, common ones like the one Martin had just seen, were everywhere. Tim’s whole thing about The Web aside, which Martin wasn’t sure he really believed in, one spider did not a malevolent force of manipulation make.

Still, it was unsettling, and Martin put the book aside, suddenly too antsy to even pretend to read.

Jon looked up. “Hmm? Would you prefer a different book?”

“No, I…” Jon put his book aside as well, and turned to face Martin, and suddenly Martin wanted to leave. If he stayed, he had the feeling something bad would happen.

Then Jon put his hand on Martin’s knee. “It’s okay. I don’t… I’m not sure what we’re supposed to be doing, but whatever it is, whatever you want, it’s okay. I’ve been waiting for you to make the first move, but maybe I should have been clearer about that. I love you, Martin. I just want to make you happy.”

That’s not what love is, Martin, the absolute hypocrite, wanted to say. But Jon’s hand was warm on his leg, and he wasn’t smiling, but his serious face was so gentle, and he was leaning in…

Martin let Jon take his trousers off this time. And his shirt and his pants and his socks. Jon was still fully clothed, but his expression was full of naked admiration and happiness as he kissed Martin’s chest and stroked him off. Sheep for a lamb, Martin thought as he guided Jon’s mouth towards his nipple, gasping as Jon took the hint and sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin there.

There was no need to hold back. Jon just wanted Martin happy, and Martin was as happy as he’d ever been. He left himself go, groaning as he spilled over Jon’s hand, panting as Jon pulled away, wiping his hand on his shirt.

Martin wanted that shirt gone.

His limbs were still a little heavy from his orgasm, but Martin knew what he wanted now. He scooped Jon up and carried him to the bedroom, Jon didn’t resist, even helped Martin wriggle him out of his slacks and shirt, before Martin covered Jon with his body, pressing him to the bed.

“Martin,” Jon breathed out, wrapping his hands around Martin’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. Martin touched Jon’s skin, noting that Jon had the same reaction to a caress on his back and nails dragging across his stomach. He seemed to like every touch equally, and none enough to get hard against Martin’s stomach.

Well. He had warned him.

Martin pulled away from Jon’s kisses to work his mouth down Jon’s body. Jon made vague happy noises but, again, nothing seemed to excite him in particular. He thought about taking Jon’s cock into his mouth, but wasn’t sure what he’d do or how he’d feel if it remained flaccid, even then.

Fortunately, before he could work up the courage, Jon tugged him back up for more kisses. Martin felt himself getting hard again, and slotted his cock between the bed and Jon’s buttocks.

“Yes,” Jon said, answering a question Martin hadn’t asked. “Yes, Martin.”

Martin started thrusting, and the dry sheets and soft skin made an interesting contrast. It felt good. It felt so good… He groaned into Jon’s mouth and Jon smiled.

There were more spiders, now, Martin noted absently. On the bed. They should move, if Martin or Jon made any sudden movements, they might get squashed…

“Anything you want,” Jon whispered, drawing Martin’s attention back to him, and he arched his back just so, so that Martin’s cock caught on his opening.

Martin groaned, thrust forward as far as he could go, and came again, spilling between the small of Jon’s back and his bed. Forgetting about the spiders, he rolled off Jon and lay beside him, breathing hard.

Jon turned to his side and leaned in, kissing Martin’s parted lips. He let his fingers lightly run down Martin’s chest and stomach, and then up his over-stimulated cock. Martin hissed.

“You like that,” Jon said, and his voice was warm, but also… analytical in a way? “You like someone else’s hand on you afterwards. Your other partners, they usually just pick you up for sex, thinking you’re an easy target. And, when your need is high enough, they’re right. They get you off, most of the time, but they don’t hang around afterwards. Not that you care, not really. You don’t even remember their names. But you feel unfulfilled when they leave, even if your body’s needs are met. It’s another connection not made, and you feel…

Lonely.”

Martin grabbed Jon’s hand, pulling it away from his body. “What are you?”

Jon smiled. “Don’t worry. If that monologue hasn’t convinced you, let us reassure you, The Archivist is still here. But the effort it takes to get him to accept… this is… Well. It’s a lot. And you’re not as untouched, not as available as we’d thought you were.”

There were spiders. Everywhere.

“We don’t think we want you anymore. It was a long shot, in any case. Especially for a contingency plan for a contingency plan. We’re willing to make a deal.”

Martin felt his heart break, just a little. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, but… “What kind of a deal?”

He dressed and left without saying anything to Jon. The… The Web thing had put him to sleep after negotiating with Martin, and Martin didn’t want to spend another moment with Jon’s warm, naked body. Not after what he’d done.

He did tuck Jon in and neaten up after himself. Jon would have enough to hate him for that untidiness shouldn’t have even mattered, but still.

He got in half an hour before usual and went straight to Artefact Storage. The book was handed over with an eye roll, and a reminder not to involve the other sections in whatever spat the Archive staff were having. Martin just nodded and left.

He walked far enough away that the café he entered wouldn’t be considered near the Institute. There were a few people there, mostly grabbing food and coffee to go on their way to work, but some sitting at tables, alone or chatting with friends. Martin sat at a table in the corner and brought the book out, tracing over the obvious spiderweb form on the cover. He felt his stomach lurch, a combination of guilt and of feeling guilty about not feeling guilty enough. Then he stood up and left.

Without the book.

Jon was already in when Martin got back. The light in his office was on and his door was closed. Martin sat at his desk and just stared ahead, quietly dreading.

Sasha walked in before Tim, saw Martin’s expression, and immediately pulled up a chair and placed her hand on his. “What happened?”

Part of the deal was not telling anyone at the Institute. Not like they wouldn’t know when the book wasn’t replaced. “I don’t know yet,” Martin said, mostly honest. “I haven’t spoken to Jon this morning.”

“Last night was he… did you break the spell?”

Martin had kept his end of the bargain. “I don’t know. Maybe. I think so.”

Tim walked in, saw them together, and his face dropped. “Shit. What now?”

“Martin thinks he might have broken the spell,” Sasha said, then shook herself. “Not that it’s a spell, exactly, just that that’s the easiest way to discuss it…”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Tim asked, ignoring Sasha’s rambling.

Martin thought about everything he’d done. Everything Jon would never have allowed, never mind encouraged. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s a good thing.” He patted Sasha’s hand and stood up. “I’m going to make some tea.”

The kettle hadn’t even boiled when Martin heard the kitchen door close. He didn’t turn around. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Martin.” Jon’s voice made Martin flinch, but he still didn’t turn around. “We need to talk.”

“Sure. I’ll just get this tea out to Sasha and Tim, and then I’ll come right over to your office and…”

Jon’s firm hand steadied Martin’s shaking one. He was still warm. “I don’t want to do this in my office. I want a more… neutral ground.”

“Alright.” Martin had been dreading this for hours. Days, if he was honest with himself. From the moment he realized something had happened, he’d known this was coming. It was almost a relief to get it over with. “What would you like to talk about?”

“These past few days… Damn it, Martin, at least look at me!”

Martin jumped and turned as ordered. Jon looked… normal. But he’d always looked normal. “Sorry. Better?”

“Yes.” Jon sighed in exasperation. “This isn’t going how I planned.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

Martin wasn’t falling for that one. He kept his mouth shut.

Jon sighed again. “I don’t feel like I’ve been myself these past few days. Don’t tell Tim, he’ll go on about that idiotic love spell again. But I do feel that maybe… Maybe I’m just not good at relationships? I mean, Georgie used to say she thought she had a boyfriend, and I thought I had a roommate I could introduce to people as my girlfriend.” He snorted. “She had a point. More than a point, really. I… I’m awful at this. And I think I might have tried too hard this time? I’ve crossed some lines with you that I never thought I would, and you… you’ve actually been lovely, never pushing. It was always me. I don’t even know why, just that I was so desperate to…”

“To make me happy,” Martin said softly.

“Yes. Exactly. And I think I kind of lost my own sense of comfort in doing so.”

Martin wanted to tell him everything. But he let Jon continue.

“I just don’t know what possessed me to–”

Martin burst out laughing. He hadn’t meant to. It wasn’t funny. Jon’s mouth snapped shut at the laughter, and he started looking angry, and that made Martin laugh harder.

Because Jon hadn’t been angry at all, coming in here. He’d been awkward, but contrite. He felt like he’d done something wrong, somehow. The whole thing was just…

Martin got himself under control. “It’s just… I’m glad you’ve come to your senses,” Martin said. And he was, really he was. “And it’s fine. I never expected anything from you, never mind what we’ve had for the past few days. Just a smile from you is enough to…” Nope, too honest. “It’s fine. I get it. It was nice while it lasted, but Elias was right. It really was a fantasy.”

The anger was still there on Jon’s face. “So you’re saying it’s over?”

“Isn’t it? I mean, you don’t love me. You just thought you did. I might be pitiful, Jon, but I don’t actually need your pity. I’ve crushed on you for years, without hope of reciprocation. Yeah, that’s kind of sad, but I’m used to it. I’ll get used to it again.”

Jon kissed him.

“I’m bad at this,” Jon said. “I really am. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care for you.”

Retroactive justification. Looking back on one’s actions and deciding that, yes, even though it didn’t make sense, I decided to do that. For reasons. Martin sighed.

“You don’t. I mean, you do, but just in that generic ‘it’s a human I know, I should give a shit’ way that everyone cares for everyone. You don’t love me, Jon.”

Jon frowned at him. “I do. I mean. I think. I might? I could.”

“But you don’t.”

Jon took a step back, still frowning. “Do you love me?”

“Yes,” Martin said without hesitation. “But that’s not an obligation on your part.”

“There… there wasn’t really a spell, was there?”

Martin sighed. “Yeah. I didn’t believe it at first, but yeah. Talk to Tim about it, he has more of the nuanced details.”

Jon made a face. “I don’t like that he was right.”

“You don’t like that you were wrong,” Martin corrected. “But, well, you were under a spell at the time. Mitigating circumstances.”

Jon nodded slowly. “And you? Were you under the spell as well?”

Martin thought about all the times he’d thought about pushing Jon away, or telling Jon to stop, and hadn’t. It would have been nice if he could have blamed it on The Web. “No.”

“I see.” Jon crossed his arms in front of his body and Martin wanted to give him a hug. That would probably make things so much worse. “Well. I have a lot to think about. I think I’ll discuss this with Tim before proceeding further.”

Martin was spared watching that when Elias called him up to his office.

“How are things going?” Elias asked, a nice open-ended question that Martin had no idea how to answer.

“What do you know about The Web?” Martin asked instead.

Elias smiled and leaned back in his chair. “More than most, much less than I could. The Web, by its nature, makes it difficult to understand the details. But the overarching picture? I have a decent chunk of it.”

“You knew that’s who was targeting Jon.”

“As far as I could see, you were the target. Jon was the bait. I suppose they failed?”

“They defaulted,” Martin said. “Apparently Jon was too much work.”

Elias laughed. “What did you have him doing? No, don’t answer that, I’d hardly like to censure myself for eliciting sexual details from an employee.” He seemed far too amused. “I’m going to be getting an earful from the board already about losing a Leitner.”

Martin sputtered.

“Don’t worry yourself. That particular book isn’t worth as much as our dear Jon.” Implying that there were books that might be. “You won’t be in any trouble over your priorities, I assure you. I am, however, considering offering you a transfer back to research.”

“What?”

“Well, I’d hate for you to feel uncomfortable working under your former lover.” It was as if every word Elias spoke was a knife he was twisting in Martin’s gut. “Jon, I’m sure, can compartmentalize, but your comfort is important as well. I understand that I’m springing this on you suddenly, so you’ll have a few days to decide, of course.”

It… wasn’t a bad idea.

“If you do take me up on this offer, however, it would be a permanent switch. The paperwork alone for a transfer is very time consuming, and the disruption in the workplace can be a mess to work around. Still, consider it.”

Martin nodded and left without making a decision.

Whatever Jon and Tim had been talking about, they were done by the time Martin returned. Jon had retreated to his office, and Tim was looking both vindicated and disturbed. Sasha was absent.

“Hey,” Tim said as soon as Martin entered. “You know Jon’s obsession with Leitners? Turns out he read one at eight, and almost got eaten by a spider.” Martin stared at him. “Yeah, I’m probably not supposed to be spreading that around, but I can’t seem to keep it in my head. Like it’s too big? Like… we read these statements, and think of these people as victims, and there’s our boss, Mr. Sceptic himself, carrying that around for twenty to thirty years. How old is he anyway?”

“Twenty-seven,” Sasha said, walking in. “More importantly, Martin, where’s the Leitner?”

“We’ll have you refrain from telling your friends, though. The Archivist can know, must Know, but the others… some knowledge must be earned.”

“I’m sorry, Sasha.”

“You’re sorry? You let a murderous book out and you’re sorry? Why would you–” She cut herself off abruptly.

“Boss isn’t going to like that,” Tim murmured. “Even if… can we say it?” Martin nodded. “Even if that’s what it took to break their control over him, he’s not going to like that you released that thing.”

“It wasn’t his decision,” Martin said stubbornly.

“I suppose not,” Sasha said. “And I can see how you thought it was worth it.” She looked at Tim. “Now, why were you debating Jon’s age?”

Tim took her aside. “When our boss was eight, he–”

Martin sat heavily at his desk and buried himself in mindless busywork. Jon didn’t come out of his office all day.

The moment he could, Martin fled. Tim and Sasha were still gathering their things as he left without a farewell. He could feel them watching him. He didn’t care.

That transfer was sounding like a better and better idea. It would mean a pay cut, but that was a small price to pay for peace of mind. It would mean not getting to see Jon every day…

Martin felt tears prickling the back of his eyes as he turned on his phone to text Elias his acceptance.

Before he could, the cheerful beep of a notification rang out. Martin checked it out of habit.

It was from Jon.

I think we’ve both had a lot to think about. I don’t know what we’ll end up deciding, but I do know that I want to decide with you. When you feel comfortable, I hope you’ll be willing to discuss this further.

Martin stared at it, finger hovering over Elias’s name.

Another notification followed.

I mean it. When I said I could. Everything else is fuzzy, but I meant that. That was me

There wasn’t a period. Jon had sent that without properly punctuating it.

Martin called his number.

It picked up on the first ring. “Martin?”

Martin closed his eyes and breathed out. Jon was quiet on the other end, but he was there.

“I think…” Martin said after a long pause. “I think we still need to talk.”

“I agree,” Jon said cautiously. “When would you…”

“I can be back at the Institute in five minutes.”

There was a brief pause. “You’re assuming I’m still at the Institute.”

“Of course you are.”

“Of course I am.” Jon sounded warm, and Martin wrapped himself up with that voice. “Five minutes?”

“Meet you out front?”

“Alright. I… I’ll see you soon.”

Martin smiled at nothing. “See you soon.”

Content warnings: The Corruption - body fluids, mostly.

The Corruption is gross.

Martin has become something of a connoisseur of these things, and The Corruption is, always, gross.

“Can we trudge through a nice void domain next?” Martin asks plaintively through a pinched nose. “Just for some fresh air.”

Jon turns to him. He’s not bothering to block the smells because he’s so high and mighty and above it all. Martin hasn’t really envied Jon’s powers. Until now.

“Actually… yes,” Jon says. “There’s another path we can take, we’ll just detour…”

“Martin?”

For the first time since leaving their cabin, Martin hears his name spoken in a voice that isn’t Jon’s. He turns around.

He doesn’t recognize the man in front of him, per se. The face, the build, the hair… they’re all familiar, but in a wrong way? To be fair, that might be partially because the man is clearly ill.

The man stumbles towards them, and Martin instinctively shies back. Jon steps between them, as if the three of them are a sandwich and Jon is the filling while Martin and that man are the bread, and that weird analogy makes something click in Martin’s mind.

“…no.”

“Martin, please,” the man begs. “I know I haven’t always been there for you, but you… you look well. Healthy. You have to help me.”

“We can’t.” Jon’s voice is as firm as ever, but there’s a gentleness underneath it that’s usually not there.

Jon’s trying, for Martin’s sake. Because this is Martin’s father, rotting in front of them.

Martin doesn’t laugh, but it’s a close thing because this… this is funny. His father had always been so afraid of his mother’s illness that this is where he ended up. Of course it is.

“Hi, dad,” Martin says. A year ago, he might have tried making nice. A year ago the love of his life had been in a coma and he’d lost everything.

A lot changes in a year.

Jon looks over at Martin, waiting for Martin’s cues. Was this why he’d been willing to leave his carefully-mapped path? To avoid this? He needn’t have bothered.

“Martin,” his father says, smiling with relief, and his lip cracks open, oozing blood. Martin’s nose wrinkles, but it’s far from the worst thing he’s seen recently. “Please. I’m dying.”

“Actually, you’re not,” Martin says, with a kind of forced cheerfulness. “No one dies here, not really. So that’s one thing you don’t have to worry about.” His father takes a step forward, and Jon is there, blocking the way. Martin’s false cheer dies away. “You know who did die? Mum. Last year.”

“Oh.” Martin watches his father process the news, and it is clearly news. He hadn’t even cared enough to watch for her obituary. “So she escaped all this, then?”

Now Martin laughs. “Yes, I’m sure that’s how she planned it.”

“Martin,” Jon says, voice low. It’s a warning and a comfort all at once. He’s right. Martin doesn’t have to do this.

But he wants to.

“I’m sure she suffered for decades, alone, with no support, so that she could die before the apocalypse. Just to spite you.”

“She had you.”

“And who did I have?”

Jon’s hand is on his arm. Martin realizes his hands are clenched in fists. The idea of punching his father has some appeal. The idea of punching this sick, frail, putrid old man doesn’t.

Jon draws him away, and Martin sees the moment in his father’s eyes when he realizes that Martin is leaving.

That Martin is leaving him.

His mouth opens and, instead of calling out, he bends double and vomits. There’s blood and bile mixed in with brownish sludge. He’s suffering. He’s so obviously suffering.

Martin turns away. “Good,” he mutters. Jon shoots him a sharp look but doesn’t say anything.

They make it through The Corruption without any further delay, not even a statement.

Three steps into the fresh air between this domain and the next, Martin starts coughing. Sometimes you have to cough. And, if it sounds like sobbing, well, that’s just what you’re choosing to hear.

I have such a soft spot for Jon breaking down as well. I always feel like they were always *so* close to reconciling and getting over the hurt and pain and paranoia in seasons 2 and 3 that if anything was slightly different, the house of cards of distrust would come falling down, so that always happens in my fics.

I’m so glad you liked it! I really enjoyed writing it, so I’m always glad when people enjoy reading it.

Oh, this is amazingly messed up. :D

You know it would seem like that is evidence in favor of Jonah et al sounding Like That all the time and I’m here for it

I don’t know how to reconcile that with Original Flavor Jonah being Scottish— wait never mind yes I do the timing works for him to have just picked up that accent with whoever the second body was?? 150 years of Stupid Sexy Administrator why is this so fuckign funny I don’t—

Ouch, it hurts, I love it!

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Prompt Post: The Magnus Archives #1

Re: Fill: Martin Blackwood/"Jonathan Sims" (Jonah Magnus), Body Hopping, Mistaken Identity 3/3

Re: Fill: Martin Blackwood/"Jonathan Sims" (Jonah Magnus), Body Hopping, Mistaken Identity 1/3

Re: Prompt: Jon/Martin/Elias, time travel, mistaken identity

Re: Prompt: Jon/Martin/Elias, time travel, mistaken identity

Re: Fill: Martin Blackwood/"Jonathan Sims" (Jonah Magnus), Body Hopping, Mistaken Identity 3/3

Re: Fill: Martin Blackwood/"Jonathan Sims" (Jonah Magnus), Body Hopping, Mistaken Identity 3/3

Re: Fill: Martin Blackwood/"Jonathan Sims" (Jonah Magnus), Body Hopping, Mistaken Identity 3/3

Re: Fill: Martin Blackwood/"Jonathan Sims" (Jonah Magnus), Body Hopping, Mistaken Identity 1/3

Re: Fill: Martin Blackwood/"Jonathan Sims" (Jonah Magnus), Body Hopping, Mistaken Identity 3/3

Re: Prompt: Jon/Martin/Elias, time travel, mistaken identity

Re: Fill: OG!Elias x Jon x Martin, post-Jonah yeet, rough sex (part 1/?)

prompt: a/b/o, omega Jon & archival assistants

Fill: Jon/Tim, safeword use in a non-sexual context

Re: Fill: Jon/Tim, safeword use in a non-sexual context

Prompt: Peter/Elias/Tim (dub/noncon), Peter/Elias, sharing is caring :)

Fill: Jon/Martin, literal Monkey's Paw, unrequited love 1/5

Fill: Jon/Martin, literal Monkey's Paw, unrequited love 2/5

Fill: Jon/Martin, literal Monkey's Paw, unrequited love 3/5

Fill: Jon/Martin, literal Monkey's Paw, unrequited love 4/5

Fill: Jon/Martin, literal Monkey's Paw, unrequited love 5/5

Fill: Martin's father in the apocalypse

Re: Fill: Jon/Tim, safeword use in a non-sexual context

Re: Fill: Jon/Martin, Non-Con 2/2

Re: Prompt: Jon/Martin/Elias, time travel, mistaken identity

Re: Fill: Martin's father in the apocalypse