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With a quick knock on the head of the institute’s office, Martin soon finds himself face to face with Jon's papa, the illusive Captain Peter Lukas. The grizzled man looks almost tame in the office of a manipulative bureaucrat, but Martin has read far too many statements about the Lukas family and their compatriots. In fact, since meeting Jon two days prior to this meeting, the archive crew has been gleaning every speck of information about Jon that they can find from the archive files that they've already dug through...
It honestly isn't much.
"Thank you for coming up here," Peter starts, sounding placative in an attempt to head off any volatile response to this conversation. "Elias and I had a long talk with Jon… We gave him permission to try and court you, but we also decided to give you fair warning."
Martin shifts uncomfortably in the chair; he wasn't even planning on taking up the offer, so why is he getting a shovel ta–?
"My son isn't human."
Martin blinks. "I… kind of figured that."
"Yes, well…" Peter takes a swig of lukewarm tea and subtly gags; it's honestly garbage water, and it wouldn't surprise him if Elias had taken all of the actual good shit with him. "Normally, neither Elias or I would be so direct with this information… It isn't really his style, and I prefer not to get involved. But Jon is old enough to make his own decisions, and if he wants to pursue a human, we will not get in the way… However, he will not treat you the way another human would. He doesn't understand what's normal. The only role models he has in relationships are my family and myself and Elias…"
"He's never had a–"
"Never." Peter shakes his head subtly. "He'll flirt with anything that moves, but he's never expressed interest in dating." The final part of the warning seems to pain the sea captain greatly. "Regardless of anything or anyone who might say so, there are people here who would miss you if you were gone."
There's uproarious laughter in the archives when Martin finally extracts himself from Peter's presence. It isn't that he doesn't appreciate the warning about Jon, but he already decided that he wouldn't go out with the charming man… probably. The warning strikes all of the alarm bells that were already ringing softly in his mind and solidifies that decision; Jon is dangerous, a monster hiding in human skin…
But seeing him sitting beside Gerry and absolutely losing his mind at Tim's exploits over the weekend is…
Pale blue eyes find his in the stairwell and go slightly soft, a flicker of uncertainty on an aristocratic face. It vanishes in an instant, replaced by a confident smile and a twist of his finger in his long, black hair. "Hello, Martin…" He stands smoothly, abandoning his conversation with Tim and Gerry in favor of charming Martin as best he can. There's a salty tang to the air like a fog rolling in on the beach, and for a moment, it's like they're the only two people in the archives… but that's impossible. "I was wondering...would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?" The alarm bells are banging at the inside of Martin's skull. "Perhaps drinks? Tea? A romantic evening for two in the middle of a secluded beach?"
"No thanks." He's already come to a decision and intends to keep it.
"Oh." Pale blue eyes drop to the ground, and he quickly shoves his hands in his pockets; he's not used to people turning him down, especially those who've felt his mother's caress. "I'll just… get out of your hair then." Jon waves to Gerry and Tim and all but bolts from the archives, intending to go hyperventilate in his dad's office.
Martin just stands there, his mind reeling at what just came out of his mouth. Did he really just… tell a guy that wants to date him 'no thanks'? What the actual fuck?
Gerry slides up beside him and lays a hand on his shoulder, the slightest tinge of night wind and ice sinking into his skin. "I'm proud of you."
"Why?" There's a sharpness to Gerry's grin, one that speaks of a near death experience before, well, he died. "What?"
"Oh, I met him when Robinson was still alive. He tried to eat me."
Martin half expects for Jon to come back within a week of his rejection, but the young monster stays mostly out of sight, only popping in to say hello to Gerry, his father, and sometimes Tim and Sasha before leaving without giving Martin an ounce of attention. He honestly looks embarrassed.
Still, on the day Elias returns from Usher, Martin finds himself watching as the institute head all but fusses over his adopted son, presenting him with gifts stolen from the lesser temple. They sing with the fog and tempestuous loneliness that Martin had come to expect from both Peter, and more so, Jon.
Martin Knows that the fog is the Forsaken, and from Gerry's lips, he's been told that Jon belongs to that horror… but how much is lost on him.
Jon whispers a quiet hello to him as he passes, and Martin just sighs.
"I'll go on a date with you."
Jon freezes and turns around quickly before all but squeaking out a, "really?"
"Yes. Nothing expensive or fancy."
Bouncing a little on his heels, the raven misses the knowing look on Elias’s face. "Okay… okay! Um, do you want to have tea after you get off work on Friday?"
"That," Martin starts and then stops to nod. "Meet me here at five."
"Will do!"
Martin was so not expecting the purple Lexus that arrives outside of the institute at 17:00 on Friday. Neither was he expecting Jon to be the one driving the car; "I don't like when people drive me," was his honest explanation… and honestly, that part really doesn't surprise him.
Yet, the tiny tea shop they arrive at twenty minutes later is also… not at all what he expected. It's a small brick place on the edge of an alleyway dotted with stray cats and tiny, painted stars in a mural that will be covered sooner than the residents would hope. There's a quaint charm to the space that only grows as they enter and find themselves before a softly smiling waitress that offers for them to just find a place. It's not exactly empty, but there's quite a bit of room to breathe between patrons and a quiet atmosphere promoting hushed discussions and laughing whispers.
It's quite nice actually.
Martin finds himself marveling at the dozens of plants that make up the wall to Jon’s left, so enthralled by the glittering fairy lights that are woven into a mesh behind them that he nearly misses the quiet laugh between Jon and the waitress when she brings over their tea. "You know her then?" Martin asks as soon as she's out of earshot, unable to curb the curiosity at their familiarity.
"Yes." Jon takes a sip of his tea and purposefully keeps his gaze from Martin's inquisitive eyes; this is not the type of conversation that he'd hoped to have so quickly. "I ate her younger sister."
Somehow their conversation goes completely unnoticed by the other patrons, and for once, Martin is grateful to be a wallflower. "You ate her sister?" Jon nods. "And she was okay with that?"
"Her fiancé cheated on her with her sister, and they stole her dog." Jon twists his hair in his fingers, an idle tic that Martin assumes, since he's seen it twice now, comes about whenever the horror is… stressed or nervous about something. "Also her stepfather is my cousin, Ambrose Lukas."
"Oh." Martin goes to take a drink of his own tea only to set it down with a klink. "What do you mean by eating people? Gerry brought up that's how you two met, but I assumed he was joking."
"Uh…" Jon starts frantically floundering for a pen before Heather, his cousin's stepdaughter passes by and pushes one into his hand before continuing back to the counter with a laugh on her breath. "So, I'm obviously not human." Jon starts scribbling on a napkin. There's a cloudy thing on the ground; he points to it. "This is my mum." He draws the cloud surrounding a stick figure. "She takes people who wander, or are pushed into her and they just–" He scratches out the figure. "–and that's how I eat too."
"Oh-kay…" Martin blinks a few times. "Now I get what Peter meant."
"Huh?"
"Your parents warned me about you."
Jon's jaw drops. "Those motherfuckers."
Martin finds it pretty funny that Jon openly gives his parents the cold shoulder for about two weeks after their date. It's even funnier when Jon talks through Rosie when he visits Elias before convincing Martin to have lunch with him the Friday after. It's only after Elias nearly begs Martin to make his son actually talk to him that the round-faced man decides to actually do something.
"Just go talk to your parents."
A soft, confused noise comes before Jon looks up from his book. He and Martin had decided to meet at the little tea house where they had their first date, and Jon had been alternating his time between reading and talking to Heather. "What about my parents?"
Martin pulls out his seat and all but flops into it; it's been a long day. "Actually talk to them. Elias begged me this afternoon. Like as much as that man can bed… It was terrifying."
Heather bops with a slightly cruel smile and chirps, "aww, they miss their baby boy."
Jon's expression is just angry enough that anyone who didn't know him would think it to be genuine, but both Heather and Martin can see the amused glint in his eyes. "Fuck off, Heather." A beat of silence follows those words as the cousins try not to laugh. He sighs loudly and sets his book down. "Alright, fiiiiine…." When Heather chuckles and walks away, Jon reaches out to take Martin's hand, thumb hovering over the pulse point of his wrist. "I will… on one condition."
'Here it comes.'
Jon pulls up a photo of a suit on his phone. "I need to pick out an outfit for the family gala."
Martin… had not been expecting that; he laughs and nods. "Show me what you've got."
Now on a dreary day about two months after, Elias slips into the archives with a determined expression and sparkling eyes. There's thick cardstock in his hands, held tightly but not so much that he'd somehow wrinkle them. Only Martin and Gerry know what those cards are for, and they're ready for it.
"What's up, bossman?"
Elias lets out a barely audible sigh when he realizes what Tim is wearing: a blue and violent orange Hawaiian shirt, tan cargo shorts, orange high socks, and green crocs; he swears that man is trying to get yelled at for his wardrobe, but Elias is not going to give in that easily. "I swear," he hisses, just loud enough for Martin to hear, "if he wears anything like that to the gala, I will seal him in the tunnels."
"I don't think Sasha would let him," Martin replies, just as softly.
The aristocratic blond shoots him a surprised look before chuckling. "I guess not." He passes one of the cards to his son's… boyfriend; holy fuck, that's still weird. "You're welcome to come, Gerard, if someone brings your page."
Martin traces over the gold leaf on the outside of the invitation and imagines meeting the rest of Jon's adoptive family; it's enough to break him into a cold sweat.
"Sasha, Timothy." Elias holds the invitations up and drops them on the empty desk that Gerry has kind of claimed as his own. "These are for you. Peter's family gala is in two weeks. Please act with some decorum."
Gerry snorts and whispers in Martin's ear. "Ten pounds says Jon makes a scene."
"Not taking that bet." Martin remembers what Jon's going to wear; it's not exactly appropriate, but it is pretty. "...you're dead, why would you need money anyway?"
"I want to decorate my desk."
The fog around the Lukas manor drifts slowly through the area, shielding approaching cars from sight. Hundreds of flowers in various shades of blue from nearly black to Jon’s pale eyes cover the walkway up to the entrance with promises of even more inside; it’s a good thing no one’s allergic... Sasha. Tim and Gerry decided to come together, but none of them knew exactly how Martin was going to get to the gala. So, Sasha sends him a text when they pause outside of the entrance and gets a response almost immediately. "He's inside."
Sasha goes first with Gerry following closely behind; Tim has his page stuffed in his suit pocket, but he promised to pass the ghost over to Jon or Martin if he asked. They slink through the entryway and towards the ballroom where soft classical music and quiet conversation only punctuated by a gregarious voice that Gerry knows so well pulls them deeper into the Forsaken’s snare… and Sasha just stops, prompting the guys to do the same.
In the center of a pack of Lukases, business partners, and government officials, Jon tells an abbreviated, and highly edited, tale of how he and Martin came to date. Their friend is right by his side, blushing hotly enough that it clashes with his hair, and Jon draws him into conversation so effortlessly… There’s an art to small talk, one that he intends to share with Martin. It’s easier for the ginger to start with a conversation he actually cares about, so that’s the ultimate point of this little endeavour.
“Huh.”
The archivist looks over her shoulder at her own boyfriend. “What?”
“He looks good in white.”
Sasha turns back to the sight before them and waits until some dark-haired girl moves to let her see Jon’s outfit. “Fucking… what?”
A white, floor length coat that buttons at the top similar to a suit jacket covers Jon’s back and arms but allows everyone to see the skin underneath. If she stares long enough she realizes that the white romper that looks to be made of white vines and sheer mesh has a body suit nearly the same shade as his skin underneath. And also, she’s seen that outfit before when she and a cousin were looking at ridiculous wedding outfits; that outfit was thousands of pounds.
“How rich are the L–?” She pauses as the Beholding whispers the answer directly into her mind. “Oh, they’re rich, rich.”
Tim hums slightly. “Just figured that out, huh?”
“Shut up.”
Later in the night, Martin finds himself sitting at a small table with Heather, Sasha, Tim, Gerry, and Heather’s half-sister, Ana. Jon had abandoned them after a bit to check on his parents, saying something about the prime minister who (Martin was horrified to learn) was one of the people listening to the story of how they started dating when the rest of the archive crew arrived.
“I can’t believe you didn’t know who you were talking to,” Heather teases. “I’m sure that Jon would have given you a heads up.”
Ana and Gerry both snort, the former drawing on every ounce of Lukas pedigree to cooly reply, “no he fucking wouldn’t. Jon’s a dick.”
Hearing the aristocratic, redheaded teenager curse with a posh accident reminds Gerry of the first conversation he had with Jon, after the eldritch tried to eat him. “Agreed.”
Before the conversation can progress any further, Jon speed walks over to them, his high heels clicking audibly on the floor. His pale, blue eyes are wide, but he’s grinning from ear to ear. “I’m never going back in that room again.” He slides his phone over to Gerry once he makes it there. On the screen is a photo of his parents making out on his grandfather’s desk, and the ghost has no doubt that shortly after the photo was taken, they’d progressed beyond making out.
“Why’d you take a picture?”
Heather looks over the ghost’s shoulder and chortles, sporting the same evil grin she got when she teased Jon about his parents the last time Martin saw her. “Blackmail?”
Jon nods sharply. “Blackmail.”
Martin honestly didn’t know an adult could get grounded.