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T’was the morning of the 25th of December (because all good things start with a T’was – fight me), and under masses of blankets, two bodies lay together, too comfortable to move against the other. Jon and Martin had been together for about five years now (married for about 10 months), and while neither celebrated the religious aspect of Christmas, it was agreed that the whole reindeer-snowflakes-candy-cane-thing was actually quite lovely, and it gave them an excuse to make a fuss.
Martin slowly blinked awake and looked down at his husband who was still asleep, his face pressed into Martin’s neck and his arm over him. This never failed to make Martin smile; when he first met Jon, he struggled to imagine him as affectionate, so it was always lovely to see it.
He managed to use the arm that hadn’t been taken hostage to check the time. 10:17… probably should get up and get his present ready… Martin thought and tried to extract himself from Jon’s grip.
But the very moment he began pulling away, there came a whine of, “Nooooo,” and Jon held on tighter, pressing his face into Martin’s neck, “Please stay.”
Martin chuckled, “Oh, I see how it is. Alright, ten minutes,” because he really couldn’t say no.
Twenty minutes later, Martin had eventually prised himself out of bed – his argument being that there was cups of tea to be made, and that he wanted to go and give their neighbours (Mr and Mx Clarke) the gifts.
The unspoken part of that was also to retrieving Jon’s present. Martin couldn’t have kept it in their flat for two reasons: number 1, Jon was great at losing things, but amazing at accidentally finding anything Martin was trying to hide (he learnt this after two years of Jon finding his gifts early); and number 2, it was alive. Not in a Frankenstein’s creature kind of way, but more in a ‘we’ve been talking about getting a cat’ kind of way.
So once Martin had sat Jon down on the sofa, tea in hand, his jumper over Jon, Martin held up two wine bags and said, “I’m just going to pop round with these, I’ll only be a minute or two,” pressing a kiss to his husband’s forehead.
“Alright, see you in a minute.”
It ended up being a bit more than a minute, as Martin profusely thanked the other couple for babysitting this little ginger kitten overnight, and they had been good enough to offer to look after her if the Blackwoods ever needed it. (Blackwoods, it still made Martin’s heart flutter.)
Martin had considered putting their new family member in a box, but when he phrased it like that in his head, he decided against it, choosing instead to hold her in his arms, and nudge the front door open. “Jon? Could you come here a sec?”
There was a loud, dramatic sigh from the sofa, followed by the sound of socks padding along the wooden floor, “What is it? You only went out with two bags; I can’t see how you’re going to need- oh.”
And good god, did Martin wish he had a camera.
Because Jon almost did a double take when he noticed the ball of fluff, that was now mewing, in Martin’s palms, staring at him. “It’s our first one married, so Happy Holidays, Jon,” Martin smiled softly, holding her out for his husband to take.
Somehow Jon managed to take her both very quickly and very gently and brought the startled creature to his chest. “Oh, Martin… I don’t know what to say,” Jon whispered, then finally looked to Martin and grinned, “Thank you. Thank you so much. I love you so much.”
“Was that last bit to me or her?” Martin laughed, putting his hand forward to stroke through white fur.
“You know it was to you,” Jon playfully glared at Martin. “Come on, let’s get yours now,” he used his free hand to grab Martin’s and drag them to the sofa. Without letting go of his new kitten, Jon retrieved a large box, badly wrapped in reindeer covered wrapping paper. “It’s not as good as a kitten, but I hope you like it.”
Martin undid the wrapping paper carefully, not wanting to have to go around picking up scraps of it later, and found, within the box, a large woollen jumper. It was dark green, with the image of a cow on the front. “Oh, Jon it’s lovely, thank you.”
“It took me a while to make, so fingers-crossed it fits. I’ll try and not steal this one,” he laughed, looking down at the one he was wearing that almost definitely belonged to Martin.
“You’ll have to get up for me to try it on- wait, you made this? When?” Martin asked, racking his brain for any spare time that Jon had to do this.
Jon moved himself and his cat onto the sofa next to Martin, explaining as his husband tried the jumper on, “Well, I may have been doing it while letting my students watch holiday films, and before that it was while they were writing papers. I think it surprised a few of them, since I don’t really talk about my personal life.” Jon was an English teacher at a local secondary school and had been for as long as Martin had been working in that café. Martin was still waiting for the day Jon would forget his lunch so he could take it in instead.
“It fits wonderfully, thank you so much,” Martin sat back down, and Jon resumed his previous position, kissing Martin’s lips. “Why do I get the feeling one of your classes is going to get a full PowerPoint presentation on our new cat – who you are yet to name, may I point out.”
“You may.”
The naming of animals was a big decision. They were stuck with it for life, and it was probably best not to name them after fictional characters whose stories were yet to finish (just in case it ends badly, and you realise you’ve just wasted several years of your life concerned over a 15 year long TV show that buries their gays. As an example…). So it was really important that Jon thought about this, and carefully considered it.
5.27 seconds later, Jon chose: “The Captain. Her name is The Captain.”
He looked down at the wide-eyed kitten, who had really taken to Jon, and decided it was a fine name. Martin laughed a little bit, having almost foreseen where that one was going, “Of course, love. We’ll get her registered at the vets when they open back up.”
The three of them had not been sat down very long when Martin’s phone’s notification sound went off twice:
Sasha: quick warning, Melanie is about to invite you to a new years do, me and tim are going – her and her gf want to set you and jon up
Sasha: do you want to tell them youre married? xx
Martin showed Jon and started laughing. “Oh dear.”
About 6 years ago, Martin had started working at a small coffee shop (and still worked there), not far from where he lived now – that was where he met Tim, Sasha, and Melanie King. The four of them had always got along very well, and it was a shame when Melanie quit her job there, since it no longer meant that they all saw each other as often. It wasn’t long after they lost Melanie, that Martin met Jon and eventually got together (and Tim was so, so very thankful that they had, because he really could not have dealt with the pining much longer) – but by that point, Melanie had been struggling to keep in touch, and had no idea that Martin was now happily married (it had been a very small wedding). But thinking back, Martin and Melanie never really talked about their personal lives with each other, did they?
Which meant they had a decision to make.
So, obviously, Jon’s phone started ringing before they even had a chance to discuss this, which was unfortunate, since it meant he had to get up, and hand over The Captain to Martin.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Jon? Jon Sims?” The voice belonged to a woman, and it sounded vaguely familiar, but Jon couldn’t quite place it for the life of him.
“Speaking,” Jon was mildly concerned, wondering if something bad had happened.
“Oh, glad to see you’ve still got the same number. It’s Georgie, Georgie Barker. From uni? Happy holidays, by the way.”
He knew he recognised that voice! Gosh, they hadn’t spoken since they left that place, and now Jon was wondering why on earth she was getting in contact with him on Christmas day of all days. Actually, knowing Georgie Barker, she was probably up to something…
“Oh! Hello Georgie, it’s good to hear from you. Happy holidays. Er, what are you up to?”
“Actually, I was calling to ask you if you wanted to come to a little New Year’s Eve get-together me and my girlfriend are holding? Thought it might be nice to catch up.”
Oh. Oh. Melanie’s girlfriend must have been Georgie! It made sense really, both of them having ghost shows, but that meant… hmm. Jon knew he needed to make sure it was Melanie, and not some other person, turning this into some big coincidence.
Jon heard something behind him, and realised it was Martin’s phone notifying him of a text, as she spoke. He turned around to see Martin smile at something, and then hold it right in front of Jon.
Melanie: hey are you up to anything for new years? wanted to get the old gang back together so me and the gf are having a small party – you coming? tim and sasha are
Martin: will have to check. Gf? Anyone I know?
Melanie: k cool – her name is georgie barker, she does the what the ghost podcast, you might have heard of her
Now that was interesting. Jon held up a finger, then one to his lips looking directly at Martin, and then put his phone on speaker phone, “Girlfriend?”
“Her name is Melanie, we’ve been together a year now,” she was definitely smiling. “So are you ‘busy’ or am I going to be dragging you along?”
Martin was wildly nodding his head at Jon, and then typed something on his phone – silencing it first.
Martin: yes, I know it, and I would love to join thank you for the invite
Now Jon had to go. He had a slight feeling he knew where this was going, and Jon was also pretty sure Martin knew what he thought about the whole situation. “I think I’m free, let me just have a quick check. Yes, Georgie, I’m free. Please would you text me the address and time?”
“Wonderful! Oh, are you bringing anyone?”
Both Martin and Jon looked at each other, then at the text exchange between Martin and Melanie:
Melanie: do you need a 1?
Martin: nah, I think I’m good
“I don’t need a 1, thank you. See you then?”
“Okay, bye!”
Jon just stared at his phone for a moment. That was interesting… Georgie and Melanie separately inviting him and his husband to the same party. He wondered… no. They couldn’t. It was morally wrong. But then again…
“Martin, have you replied to Sasha yet?” he sat himself back down on the sofa, falling into Martin’s side, and then into Martin’s lap, to look at his husband’s phone.
“No, no I haven’t. I suspect we’ve had the same thought, though,” Martin shifted into a more comfortable position, given that The Captain was also in Jon’s lap. “Shall I text Sasha and Tim?” After a moment, Jon nodded.
“We are awful people, aren’t we?”
“Yes, dear.”
Martin: Do not tell Melanie and Georgie that me and Jon are even together if you haven’t already. We’re going to see how long it take them to figure it out.
The 31st of December arrived quicker than both Jon and Martin would have liked, as it meant that school holidays would be over soon, and that Jon would be back to school hours again. It would have been nice to spend their first New Year’s Eve as a married couple doing something together, but this was technically them doing something together, and they might not get another chance to fool the girls. It would at least make for a good story.
They had taken a few precautions: both had removed their wedding rings (Martin was looking after them); Martin insisted that Jon not wear one of Martin’s jumpers because it might be a giveaway (and compromised that Martin wear two so Jon could have one afterwards); and Martin had casually brought up that Jon wouldn’t be able to sit as close to him as normal (Jon begrudgingly agreed).
A few days before this, Georgie had rung Jon about something that now he couldn’t quite remember and had found out that he had recently acquired a kitten. And then insisted he bring it with him. At least The Captain got to be part of the festivities.
They decided that Jon would arrive first, since Georgie knew just how punctual the man could be, and Martin would get there a little bit later on. So, after being told to get there at 8PM, Jon knocked on the flat door with The Captain in his arm at 7:30PM, and a bottle of wine in what would have been his free hand.
“Oh, hello Jon!” Georgie had answered the door, “Nice to see your timing hasn’t changed. Now, pass me your kitten.”
Jon laughed as he passed The Captain into Georgie’s outstretched arms. Was this what Martin had to deal with?
“Yes, hello Georgie. Am I the first here?”
She looked up from the kitten cradled in her arms, and after cooing “Ooh, you lovely little baby,” at her, had said, “You know you’re always first, but Melanie is just through here.”
Georgie, once Jon had taken The Captain back from her with a pout, led him through her flat to the main room, where another lady – who Jon recognised as Melanie from a photo album of Sasha’s that she had brought round, presumably in the hopes of embarrassing Martin – sat, sipping at a glass of red wine.
“Melanie, this is Jon, my ex from uni,” Georgie explained, having to physically push Jon onto the settee, “And Jon, this is my girlfriend, Melanie.”
“Georgie said you were bringing a kitty with you; she looks very polite. Not that The Admiral cares,” Melanie glanced over to the corner of the room. Jon followed this glance to see The Admiral glowering at the offending Captain from his little cat house.
“I see he still doesn’t like other cats,” Jon smiled at the familiarity of it.
For the next half an hour, Georgie proceeded to ask Jon what he’d been up to since university, and found out the following:
- He still lived in London
- He was working as an English teacher (Georgie had scoffed at this, initially not believing that Jon was working with teenagers)
- And he had changed very little since their Oxford days
A few minutes past 8PM, Martin, Tim, and Sasha (who had given the other two a lift) all arrived. Melanie answered the door this time, and after hugs were shared, grabbed Martin’s wrist – at the bemusement of Tim and Sasha – then dragged him through to where Jon, The Captain, and Georgie were sat.
“This is Martin,” Melanie gestured to Jon’s husband, and then in turn to the other two, “This is my girlfriend, Georgie, and this is Jon.”
“Oh, h-hello,” Martin purposefully stuttered out, and tried his hardest to ignore The Captain, who had begun mewing in recognition.
“Hi-”
“Tim and Sasha,” Tim interrupted, “We are Tim and Sasha.”
Jon bit back asking which of them was which, in favour of shyly waving, “Jon.”
And with no subtlety, Georgie sat Martin down next to Jon, both scooching away from each other.
“And who do we have here?” Sasha asked quickly, pointing at the ginger kitten occupying Jon’s lap, who was desperately trying to reach Martin. Sasha was aware of Jon’s holiday present, but she was playing the part, and neither her nor Tim had met her yet.
“This is The Captain,” Jon had barely finished his sentence when Tim and Sasha knelt down to pet her.
Martin felt so awful for not fussing over their cat, especially since she kept looking over at him with sad confusion. He could only hope she could hear the mental plea of ‘I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I promise I’ll make it up to you’ Martin was sending her.
Georgie reappeared with some more glasses, “Hello! Good to meet you at last. Melanie has told me so much about you all. Oh, and Jon is an old friend from university.”
When she passed Jon a glass of red wine, Martin fought to stop himself saying something. This was because of two reasons: the first being that The Captain was going to go from ginger to merlot soon if Jon wasn’t careful (Martin had threatened to buy him a sippy cup for how many red wine stains their flat had), the second reason being that Jon was a lightweight. A lightweight who became horrifically affectionate (not that Martin was complaining) when drunk – and Georgie was probably aware of this, choosing to abuse this knowledge.
This was going to be a difficult night.
“So, Jon,” Tim began, “What do you do for a living?”
So far, Jon had managed to barely speak, as Melanie wanted to catch up with her ex-co-workers, so it wasn’t too difficult. However, these questions were to be expected. Martin was just pleased that his husband had only had two glasses of wine.
“I’m an English teacher at the secondary school down the road,” Jon mumbled just loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Really? Do you know a Danny Stoker?”
Jon did know Danny Stoker, he was a very good student (and the only one who knew what Jon was really like, but so far hadn’t had any luck getting other people to believe him), and Tim knew this. “Yes, I really teach there, and yes, I know him. Are you his father?”
While Jon did a magnificent job of not smirking, Melanie, Sasha, and Martin did not, bursting into snorting laughter at Tim’s expense. He may have known that Jon was getting him back for many atrocities, but Tim still scoffed in a ‘how dare you’ way, “No, I’m his brother!”
“My apologies,” Jon did not mean it, and his lips absolutely betrayed him by twitching.
Melanie recovered quickly when she considered the implications of this, “Martin likes poetry, don’t you Martin?”
“Ah,” Jon spoke before Martin could.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Martin asked, incredulously.
Georgie cursed herself, knowing what was coming and wishing she could have warned Melanie. “Why can’t poets just say what they mean rather than using all that flowery imagery to describe the most banal things. It’s ridiculous.”
Martin had been ready to recite his previously prepared argument for this, but Melanie stepped in first, “Martin, I like that jumper of yours, where did you get it?”
He looked down. Shit. He was wearing the cow jumper that Jon had knit for him (Jon who was revelling in the compliment from Melanie, even if she was just making polite conversation).
“I bought it him for Christmas,” Tim rushed into the silence.
“Okay,” Melanie drew out, “Where did you get it then?”
There was a pause as everyone who knew the actual answer stared at the poor, Hawaiian shirt clad boy, awaiting an answer.
“You know, I don’t remember! Did anyone want another drink?” and Tim was gone before anything else could be said.
Sasha creased her eyebrows in thought, “But I thought Tim got you and- I mean you- oh wait. Never mind, I can be such a scatterbrain,” she recovered as well as Tim had. Fortunately, Tim returned quickly with a glass of wine for both of them.
“The three of us work in a café together,” Sasha brought up, having a pretty good idea of what Jon was going to say about it, “Melanie used to work with us there, but left us, gosh how many years will it be now?”
Melanie didn’t have time to think about it when Martin blurted out, “Five years ago,” then realised his mistake, “Or about that, anyway.” He sneaked a look over at Jon, who gave his husband a startled look and then understood the reason he remembered that was because they got together shortly after Melanie left.
“You all work… in a café?” Jon raised an eyebrow, trying to put something in his voice to indicate his dislike of the profession.
“Jonathan Sims!” Georgie snapped.
“… Hm? Oh, me.”
It took longer than it should have for Jon to process that she was talking to him (as though there was another Jon, or that anyone else had said something that warranted the wrath of Georgie Barker) purely because he hadn’t been called that in a long time. He was too used to Jonathan Blackwood, and how nice it was getting to write that on paperwork.
Martin glared at him for this, which was easily interpreted as Jon’s attitude towards the job, and huffed. That ridiculous little man. God, how he loved him.
“Jon, behave,” Georgie scolded him like a cat (which Martin could agreed was probably the best way to do so, given the similarities), “We’ve got about 10 minutes until the countdown, and I’m getting another drink.”
“I’m coming with you,” Melanie responded, letting her girlfriend pull her up from the sofa.
Once they were both out of earshot, the sniggering began.
“You are an awful little man, you know that?” Martin reached over to scratch The Captain’s head, and poke Jon’s knee, who laughed quietly.
“I’m amazed you two haven’t slipped up yet, you know,” Tim whispered just in case, “And that Jon’s managed to go without physical affection for the last few hours.” Now that, that had been a struggle, and Jon really wanted to curl up to Martin, or at the very least hold his hand.
On that cue, Georgie and Melanie returned to where they had been sat before, and Sasha said, “We were just saying that Martin makes the best cups of tea.”
“I remember watching you make a cup of tea once,” Georgie mused, nodding at Jon and nursing her wine, “Worst experience of my entire life. Six tea bags, no sugar.”
Martin glared at Jon; he did not know this. “You did what?”
“I needed the caffeine!”
“Then drink coffee!”
Tim and Sasha were trying to hide their smiles, since it might give the game away, but it was funny watching between their married bickering (that would have happened even if they weren’t pretending not to be married right now), and it was even funnier watching the frustrated and tired looks on Melanie and Georgie’s faces.
“I am never letting you make tea again,” Martin shook his head.
“Again?”
They turned to see Melanie and Georgie (who had made the observation) staring in confusion. Ah, bollocks.
Jon looked down at The Captain and pursed his lips, “Tim, you jinxed it.”
“I don’t understand,” Melanie said, and turned to Georgie to see if she knew what was happening, who had an equally befuddled look on her face.
Martin and Jon looked at each other and smiled, before Jon held his hand out, “Ring, please.”
“I’ll swap you for the kitten.”
“Deal.”
Martin reached into his pocket, an brought out two silver rings, putting one of them on his ring finger, and passing the other to Jon, who simply let go of The Captain. She ran into Martin’s arms as Jon put his ring on and moved over to sit as close to Martin as possible without being in his lap. “Hello, did you miss me?” Martin grinned at the kitten.
“Yes, I did. And I’m cold,” Jon whined.
“Fine, fine. Hold her a second,” Martin passed The Captain back, and then removed his top jumper – the one Jon had knit him, so Martin had one that Jon wasn’t going to steal – swapping it back for their cat. “Happy?” Jon nodded, now drowning in the garment, and halfway into Martin’s lap.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Melanie threw her head into her hands. “I hate you all.” She didn’t.
Martin stuck his tongue out as Tim and Sasha patted each other on the back in congratulations.
Georgie pinched the bridge of her nose, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us you were married.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t ask before trying to set us both up,” Jon retorted, reaching for his wine glass, and taking a drink.
Sasha stuck her hand up, “They couldn’t have done it without us! We’re the true geniuses behind the whole operation.”
“No,” Martin laughed, “You two geniuses almost got us caught out.”
“You were the one who chose to wear the jumper Jon knit for your present, we did the best we could,” Tim argued, but they all knew it was playful.
Georgie took a deep breath in, and then out. She reached for the television remote and turned onto the New Year’s Eve countdown.
“You two are unbelievable, but I’m still very proud of you both for finding each other,” she took hold of Melanie’s hand, “I want to know everything, but you can tell me next year.”
The groans from that were satisfying enough, as was the kiss on the cheek from Melanie.
“Right, come on then,” Melanie pointed to the telly, and they all counted down with the clock.
10
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
“Happy New Year!”
And as couples kissed (or Tim taking hold of The Captain for a little kiss on her head to make Sasha laugh) at the bells of New Year ringing out, they all knew questions would be answered in due course. But for now, they were just going to enjoy this.
“I can’t believe you said I looked like Danny’s dad. How dare you.”