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For better or for worse, when they arrived Somewhere Else it was in a dingy alleyway. Jon had been bleeding, Martin had been crying; overall no one was having a good time. However, the environment did make it easier to come up with a cover story.
To this day, Jon can still vaguely recall Martin telling the police, frantic and barely keeping it together, that they had been mugged, and how Jon had been stabbed in the crossfire. By some miracle, they chose to overlook the knife in his very hands. Martin was at his bedside his entire stay at the hospital, muttering half-sobbed apologies and holding Jon’s hand as though he’d fade away into nothing if he let go.
Things were hard starting off. Hell, ‘hard’ didn’t even begin to describe it. It was rare to see the two of them in a room together, let alone talking to one another. Then, after months of avoidance, fighting, and otherwise unpleasant coexistence, Jon whispered into the space between them: “I love you. And that isn’t going to change.”
It took time, like most broken things do, to heal. They managed to get jobs, rent a flat together, and make friends. They talked late into the night, about their lives, and their regrets, and their sorrows. They talked about trust and what it meant to love someone as wholly as they did one another. They held each other when their reality felt unreal, and they shared fears over cups of tea. Things weren’t perfect, and they never would be, but this was real, and they were in love.
It was hard to imagine they’d been here for almost a year. Jon smiled to himself at this thought, when a hand appeared before him, snapping to get his attention.
“Earth to Sims, come in Mr. Sim!”
Harper Rosenthog had been working the front desk on Jon’s first day at Mayfield Library. She’d introduced herself, all kind and proper, before very rudely telling him he looked like he’d just been run over by a train. They’d been friends ever since.
“There are other ways to get my attention, you know.”
“That I do, but you’ve barely touched your food, and you’ve been staring off into space for a good minute now!” Harper gasped – ever the dramatic, “you must be thinking mighty hard about something! Spill!”
Jon scuffed, shoving his fork into a chunk of food. This restaurant was too fancy for him, but his colleague insisted on trying all the best spots in town, even if those spots had a tendency to break the bank. Neither of them got paid enough for this.
“It’s nothing.”
“Like I’d believe that! Come on Jon, I’m not going to judge you!” She leaned into the table, staring him down.
He sighed. “I’ve just been thinking… You remember Martin, right?’
“Love of your life, has the coziest sweaters, and makes the best tea – that Martin?”
“Y-yes, that Martin.”
“Why of course I remember him, sweets!” Harper grinned, “we had a game night last week, do you not remember?”
“Ah, right…” He did remember. Harper had known Martin for about as long as she’d known Jon, so really, it was a stupid question, but…
“What has you thinking so hard about our darling Mr. Blackwood?”
Jon looked back to his food. Still as untouched as it was before. “Ah, well… We’re coming up on an… Anniversary of sorts.”
“Oh, that’s exciting! What is it for?”
“Um, it’s… It’s been almost a year since we arrived here.”
“Ohhh, so like, a year since you two moved in to town?” Harper wore naivety on her face like gold. It was better she believed the anniversary was for something so innocent. Still, Jon squirmed in his seat.
“Basically, yeah,” he finally got the nerve to look up at her. “I know I told you some of what happened when we got here-”
“Like the part where you got stabbed?”
Harper could sometimes be too loud for her own good. Jon ignored the stares they were getting.
“Y-Yes… We didn’t have an easy start here, and regardless of how far we’ve come, it’s still going to be a difficult day, so I’m trying to figure out how to make the day… Better. For both of us.”
Harper sat there for a moment, the wires in her head turning at a painfully slow pace. Jon took a sip of water while waiting for her to say something.
“Why not renew your vows?”
Jon nearly choked.
“I’m- I’m sorry, what?”
“What? Laurie and I renewed our vows last year a month or so after her dad’s funeral, it helps remind you of all the love you have-”
“Martin and I are not married.”
When the words left his mouth, they felt wrong. The vowels formed, and his throat scratched with the force of speaking, and it came out tasting like bile. Harper looked just as shocked as he felt.
“Well,” she said, looking a little uncomfortable, “I guess that explains the lack of ring on your finger. I always assumed the two of you wore them on chains or something but-”
“It’s not like I don’t want to be married to Martin,” Jon blurted, and Oh Gods, he was rambling, “I love him. A lot. A-And had things been different, I like to believe that we would be married by now. If he wanted to. But that’s just it, isn’t it? Would he want to get married? It’s such a big step, what if-”
“Jon,” Harper spoke with her Manager Voice then, silencing him in a second. “I didn’t mean to send you into a spiral, but honestly, you’re overthinking it.”
“How?”
She smiled. “Martin loves you. It’d take an idiot to not see that. Regardless of if you two are married or not, you love each other, and that’s not going to change.”
Her words brought him comfort then. “That’s not going to change,” he repeated. Harper’s smile widened.
“You know you can call me if you need anything, right?”
“Of course.”
“Good.”
A waiter approached the two of them. “Check?”
“Yes please.”
~~~
As a parting word, Harper had very sternly told him not to think too hard about the marriage thing.
In typical Jonathan Sims fashion, he thought about it way too hard. He hardly realized he’d been dozing off until he felt the couch dip next to him. Soon after, a cup of warm tea was being pushed into his hands.
“Jon?”
Looking at Martin felt like coming home. “I’m alright. Just thinking.”
Martin chuckled, leaning back. “Good thoughts I hope.”
Jon smiled, “honestly? It’s a mixed pot.”
“Care to share with the class, Mr. Sims?”
Jon didn’t know what to say, so instead, he kissed Martin’s forehead, resting his head on his shoulder immediately after. “I love you,” he said, meaning every word.
“I love you too.”
~~~
It wasn’t until later that night, when the two were half asleep under a warm duvet, that the thought crossed Jon’s mind again. He handled it the same way any half-conscious man would: poking his nearly-sleeping boyfriend in the back.
The man in question grumbled, turning his body halfway to face Jon.
“You still awake?” Jon asked, pinching himself.
“I am now,” Martin sighed, now facing the other man fully. “What’s up?”
Now was not the time to get nervous. He refused to get nervous. “I wanted to talk about something.”
“Could it wait until tomorrow?”
Jon looked away. “Yes-”
“Alright then-” Martin had began turning away.
“Wait!”
He was back to looking at Jon expectantly. It was now or never.
“You… You mean the world to me, Martin Blackwood.” He gulped down every nerve he might have been feeling in that moment, before continuing. “You are stubborn, and quick witted, and the most loving person I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I don’t… I don’t think I tell you enough how much you mean to me, and I’m sorry.”
Martin sighed, kissing the other's forehead. “You don’t need to apologize,” he whispered.
“I do, Martin. There are so many things I can never apologize for enough. But… That’s not what this is about.”
“What is it about then?” He sounded nervous. Jon needed to change that.
“It is about us. N-Not anything bad, just…” A deep breath. Another kiss pressed to his forehead, encouraging him. “I can’t change the past. I can’t bring back the people we lost, I can’t take back what I did or how I acted…”
“Jon…”
“We’ve been here for almost a year now. And I know how hard that day is going to be, for both of us, but especially for you. I… I remember being so scared that I’d lost you back then. We were safe, and I was recovering fine, but… We were so far away from each other. I still loved you, and I know you loved me, but I was still so scared that I’d wake up one day and you’d be gone forever.”
“I would never leave you like that,” the words were said with a determination. It made Jon smile.
“I never believed you would. It was just fear. A fear I never want to relive,” he took Martin’s hands in his own, looking him in the eye now. “I love you, and that isn’t going to change. I want to keep loving you for as long as time allows. Martin Blackwood… Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”
It was hard to see in the dark, but Jon could have sworn he saw Martin begin to cry. After a torturous moment of silence Martin cleared his throat.
“Um… You weren’t thinking we get married on the anniversary of when we got here, were you?”
“What? No-”
“Okay, okay-” Martin was… Laughing? “I just wanted to make sure. Don’t want to think about stabbing my husband on what is supposed to be the happiest day of our lives-”
“So you want to-?”
“Gods, of course I want to get married, Jon.”
They kissed then, in the comfort of their bed, in a home they’d made together. It wasn’t perfect, and it never would be, but this was real.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”