[ Martin Blackwood is a total sweetheart. That has been an ultimate truth for as long as Tim has known him. It had been obvious on his first day in the Archives when he’d accidentally let in a stray spaniel and had been proven again and again as he’d continuously made everyone around him as comfortable and taken care of as possible, even Jonathan, who was more than a little prickly on his best days. It had taken a little while to get him to open up, but the more Tim learned about Martin, the more his opinion of him was cemented. Sure, he had his days where he might be a little short or flustered or down, but who didn’t? Tim wasn’t sure when he’d taken it on himself to make sure Martin was alright, given all the insanity that came with the job, but somewhere along the way they’d become friends, at least in Tim’s mind.
Tim had a lot of friends. Making them had always been easy for him, even if most of them didn’t really know very much about him. Not really. Sasha was probably the closest thing to a best friend he had, and that was probably because he hadn’t yet muddied the waters by complicating things with physical benefits and because they’d known each other for so long. There was also the fact that she seemed to see through him in a way that few people did. It made it easier to share the parts of himself that he was too ashamed to share with the others. He’d told her about Danny, about how he couldn’t face his parents, about all the one-night stands and failed romances and frustrations that came with the job. She was a great listener and though they gossiped like any other pair of Institute coworkers, Sasha rarely judged. Still, he hadn’t told her about Martin taking him up on his offer, if only because he knew she’d tell him it was a bad idea.
Martin was, well, Tim wouldn’t say he was fragile. Not after he’d endured Jon’s ire and bad moods so many times and had seemed to bounce back to his usual affable self. Sensitive, maybe. Tim had meant what he’d said about Martin deserving someone who could love him back, but he also knew that he wasn’t the answer. The most he could do was maybe boost Martin’s confidence and show him a good time and hope that was enough to get Martin unstuck from his infatuation with Jon so that he could move on. He knew there was a possibility for things to get complicated, but he’d told himself all morning that if he was straight and upfront that no one would get hurt. Deep down, however, he knew that if he really believed that he would’ve told Sasha the real reason he wasn’t available for drinks that evening. Instead, he’d said an old friend was coming to town and given her a wink that she’d rolled her eyes over.
He’d pretended he was actually going through the stack of papers on his desk as she’d left the office, giving her a few minutes to walk her usual path to the underground entrance two blocks over before he’d gathered his things and made his way to Martin’s desk. He could hear the faint drone of Jon’s voice coming from behind his closed door. Tim leaned against the partition with his right shoulder, reaching up to loosen his tie and giving Martin a teasing smirk.] Ready to go, Tiger?
[ He's been asking himself all day why he'd agreed to going out on a ‘date’ with Tim. It wasn't Tim himself that made Martin critical of his judgment. No. Tim was a catch: intelligent, level-headed, caring. A good man and a great friend– and it didn't hurt that his looks matched that ineffable charm that seemed to ooze from every pore effortlessly. It is everything Tim is, and everything Martin is not, that stands as a stark reminder that he's batting way above his league, and for what?
With Jon, Martin could at least appreciate him from afar. Care for him in his own special way, with tea and gentle…somewhat passive-aggressive reminders that the man was still human and needed to eat and sleep. There was little in fooling himself that the man would see him with his stupid acts of service and suddenly be amenable to holding his hand while they went out on one of their lunches. It was harmless, because only Martin’s feelings would take a bruising. Jon was too wrapped up in his work and painfully oblivious to any dropped hints. Going out with Tim feels risky, however. He can't quite put a finger on why, beyond loathing the idea he's being pitied.
Martin isn't stupid. A tad awkward–but not as awkward as he lets on. Horribly content to burn himself at both ends to warm others (yes), but far from delusional. He knows this is Tim's way to try and pry Martin out of his shell so he could go on an actual date. With someone else. He doesn't doubt that Tim wants the best for him, but it won't be Martin inspiring anything more than friendly affection. A casual, whirlwind romance without the actual romance. Just as well.
His day had crawled by in distracted, idle daydreams anyway, despite Martin's best efforts not to indulge. By the time Tim slides over to his desk, he'd reread the last line roughly three times without comprehending a nugget of meaning. The nickname makes him twitch in surprise, but he saves face by pressing back against his chair, head tipping in Tim's direction. He can't help but roll his eyes, but there is a smile to smooth over the knee-jerk sass. He shuts away his things for the day with a restless hum that possibly passes for nonchalance. ]
God, that's terrible. [ Martin actually laughs, standing and brushing himself off. He throws a cursory look at Jon’s closed door and mentally shakes off some of the nerves. BECAUSE WHY? ] Let’s go before he asks me for the report he’s been breathing down my neck for.
[ Does he know where they’re going? No. He trusts Tim, though. ]
[ He chuckles when Martin laughs at the nickname. It had been a little over the top, but Martin's reaction was more than worth it. ] Better hurry, then. [ He grabs the arm of Martin's shirt and pulls him towards the office door as if Jon might burst out of his office at any moment to stop them, herding him out of the door and shutting it resolutely behind them. He lets out an exaggerated sigh of relief before he let's go of Martin's arm and begins leading the way through the maze of hallways and up the stairs to the main entrance.
He pushed through the front doors and sighs with relief as he's greeted with the warm, fresh air of a mid-Summer sunset. The windows of the institute reflect a calm orange and the sounds of the street are a welcome change from the faint hum of the fluorescent lights of the building. He turns back to Martin, giving him a broad smile.] Free at last!
[ He wraps an arm around Martin's shoulders, though he leaves the touch light enough that it can be easily shrugged off. Tim tends to be tactile when it comes to his friends, but he's also aware that no everyone is as comfortable with touch as he is. He waits for any hint of tensing as a mark for whether or not he's being too familiar, too fast. ] What do you fancy for dinner? I know a chinese place a few blocks over that I think you might like.
[ Oh no, heat does not crawl up his neck at Tim tugging him lightly along, though he braves a muttered: ] Oh, my hero. [ They otherwise walk in companionable quiet through the halls – and really, it is a bit maze-like. How’d that spaniel ever find the motivation to weave this hard? Overachiever. ]
I'm surprised Sasha didn't give me any weird looks today… Don't you two usually do drinks after work?
[ They're outside, and what lingers of the evening light is quite pretty. Tim’s smile is also quite nice. He has to turn away to hide the slight flush at his easy affection, but this was a test for the real thing, wasn't it? He boldly – for him at least – wraps the arm trapped between the two of them around Tim's waist.
A thought comes to him, and he casts a mildly suspicious look toward his friend. ]
You didn't tell her, did you? Don't think I can be placated by steamed dumplings. [ They both know he can, and will. Their hips bump, intentionally and in retribution on Martin's part, before he gives up on giving him a hard time. ] You've been holding out on me?
[ He's surprised that Martin knows his and Sasha's habits but then again, it's not as if they're exactly covert about them. He's invited Martin along a time or two, but maybe he should make sure he knows it's an open invitation. Honestly, by this time in the week he doesn't care who is there, except for Jon who can't leave work at work.
He grins when Martin wraps an arm around his waist, squeezing his shoulder encouragingly, though it fades a little at his question. He doesn't want Martin to think that this is some dirty little secret or an act of pity. It's not, really. It's just an opportunity with no consequences. Telling Sasha would've had consequences. He's sure of it. ] Couldn't let her get jealous, could I?
[ He gives Martin a look that's just short of a wink and pulls him in the direction of the restaurant. ] The dinner is better than the lunch, besides, it's kind of my go to date spot. Don't want everyone knowing about it, or it'll lose it's charm.
[ He tries to think of the number of times that he and Martin have actually been alone in the last couple of months and only comes up with a handful. The three of them usually go to lunch together a few times a week, but usually it's rushed because Jon will say something if they're late. It's hard to remember that he hadn't always been that way. He used to be their third before Martin was.] So boss man has been on you this week?
[ He’s very good at listening in on conversations that happen right in front of him, and while someone with a bit more confidence would be more inclined to believe more of their hangouts were unspoken invites, Martin is the kind that doesn't even trust one that's explicit. He likes being a third, but there's always been a disconnect. He notes the shift in Tim's demeanor before the man responds and he does his best to not scoff. ] Then maybe you should ask her on a date next time. Make the archive staff some dating sim. Or Pokémon.
[ So he lied to himself about being done with teasing Tim. Is… there a personality there? Beyond being a pushover and a people pleaser, that is. God–how can some people just pull off winking unironically? Must be nice being god’s favorite. He allows himself to be guided down another sidewalk, keen to look around at the surrounding shops just in case he decided to spend money on himself for once, but the question makes him grumble. He wishes he knew the Jon that Sasha and Tim had in research… but considering how bad he’s got it now, it probably would have put him six feet under to see the man …quasi relaxed. ]
That’s bold of you to assume he knows an alternative when he gets focused on something. [ He’s… better. Martin isn’t actively scared of him snapping at him, but that sensitive little heart of his keeps beating to get bruised. Martin deserves nice things. ] Aren’t you meant to make me not think about him? [ His lack of rizz means it sounds like a genuine question (it is!) rather than a flirty challenge. Alas. ]
Catch you all? [ He laughs and shakes his head. ] That's not a bad idea, though Jon would be a challenge. I'd have to lure him down to artifact storage with the promise of a creepy statement and surprise him with a candlelit dinner or something. Think he'd let me punch his record button?
[ It's funny how the last thing he wants to talk about is Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, and somehow he's managed to instantly kick off this distraction of a date by talking about punching his buttons, after bringing up work. Not his best work.
Tim's face falls into an unimpressed look at Martin saying he's doing better. Not from what he's seen, though at least it looks like Martin's growing a tougher skin. But he's right, this isn't about him. It's about Martin.] Yeah, sorry. You're right. Forget the boss, let's talk about you.
What exactly is your type? Other than humanoid robot and office hunk?
[ Martin’s expression takes on that fleeting, faraway look he gets when his mind wanders. He’s thinking about how Jon would react to a drive-by date in Document Storage – cot and all. No, he’s not blushing. At least at something that couldn’t be easily explained (honestly, “push his record button”, Tim? That’s lurid.) His mouth does that weird little wobble coming from trying to suppress a smile and grimace. He’s definitely pink.. ]
I’m not going to be able to look at him the next time he’s recording, so, thanks for that.
[ Tim’s apology and following question both deserve the eye roll, but it’s good natured. He gently squeezes said ‘office hunk’s’ arm. It’s easier to act the part of an affectionate date than come up with an answer. ]
Don’t sell yourself short, Tim. You’re pretty and smart. [ It’s such a ridiculous thing to say… this was his coworker. He’d have to look him in the eye. But he’s grinning, despite the vaguest hint of embarrassment. ] I don’t know, really? What do think my type would be? [ What a cop-out! ]
[ He appreciates the physical contact, even if Martin does completely ignore his question.He bats his eyelashes coquettishly and smiles. ] Thanks, Martin. I like to think so.
[ He takes a moment to think his answer over.It's not as if he's an expert on dating, though he's certainly put in his 1000 hours, but despite his joking around, he does want to actually help Martin come out of his tortoise shell a little bit.] You need a romantic.Someone you can read your poetry to and walk around London with. Someone to sweep you off your feet and out of your office chair from time to time. Preferably a nice bloke with a dog named after some literary character who smells like candlelgiht and books.
[ Martin has had minimal experience with dating long-term. He’d joined the Institute barely old enough to be a first year in uni, let alone graduated with a masters. There’d been a few of the library’s patrons that gave him a second look, but let’s be real; Martin hardly believed those glances were wanting. And now, he has Tim batting his eyelashes at him.
It’s very difficult to not slip into thinking this is charity work. If Tim knew him for all of his faults, he’d never volunteer his time for such a fruitless endeavor. The mention of his poetry yanks him from his problematic thoughts and he sputters. ] Intentionally read it, or would he just burst into the room uninvited while I’m recording it?
[ Yes, there’s a slight hint of side-eye, but there’s barely any heat behind it. The rest. It sounds nice, in a way that makes him feel a certain type of way. ]
If I couldn’t find that when I worked in the library, how am I going to find it in the archives, Tim? It’s not exactly overstaffed. [ He sighs, and maybe he presses a little closer to his friend’s side while mulling it over more. ] Candlelight and books? Am I that much of a hipster? [ Yes... Martin, lowkey. Can’t wait for vinyl to get popular again. ] Are you going to suggest someone that puts on the oldies and takes me for a spin around the living room, next?
[ No, he’s not YEARNING for something that’ll never happen. Nope. ]
Oh, come on, Martin! I apologised for that. [ Or he thought he had. Maybe he hadn't. He'd been a little too curious about who Martin was crushing on to really be sure. Of course it had been Jon. Now, it's obvious, but at the time it had been a mystery dying to be solved. ] But, no. It would be read with intention and appreciation.
That's what I'm saying, you need to widen your net to people outside of the Institute. Especially if you're going to get anyone with any manners. [ He tightens his arm around Martin's shoulders in a soft squeeze as he presses a little closer. Despite this tendency to overreact and be way too involved in the Boss's every, well, everything, he's remarkably fond of Martin. He's always there if Tim needs to bitch about the boss or last night's date and he doesn't even have to ask for tea or biscuits any more. It's like Martin seems to know when he's parched or hungry. He's even started giving some of the guff Tim gives him back to him, which is a sign of progress, Tim thinks.]
Absolutely not! [ He shoots him a look of mock offense.] Hipsters can't dance.
[ He chuckles as they cross the final street to the Chinese place. It's busy, but not so much that they can't have a conversation.] I'm just saying, you strike me as the romantic type, Martin. You take care of everyone else; you need someone who will take care of you. Someone who opens doors for you. [ As if to demonstrate, he moves to grab the door for him and gives him the tiniest of bows.] Someone who brings out that dark sense of humour of yours.
[ Martin looks doubtful at Tim claiming he’d apologized for interrupting his sappy Jon-centric poetry readings, but he doesn’t press. It’s amusing now that a bit of time has passed and he no longer lives in document storage. It’d be a bit more concerning if the man ended up at the door to his new flat…
Maybe he could invite him over to kick his ass in Mario Kart or something. That’s what friends do, right? This is how his mind wanders in order to not focus on the sweet things that Tim believes he deserves. ]
We’ve only been to the pub for drinks, where I sat with a pint. You’re bold for thinking that I know anything about dancing.
[ It’s not like he’d be prone to stepping on toes; he’s far too familiar with the space he occupies. He’s too in his own thoughts to let himself go. Shame. ]
So …dark academia, as a man. Who’s not Jon. [ Martin pauses when they’re finally at the door, jerking to not double down on opening the door when Tim is doing for him. His cheeks go pink. ] Oh… thanks? [ He slips inside, willing the blush to go down. He puts his order in ( my American ass got very depressed by looking up Chinese takeout in England ) before finding a seat tucked off to the side. He sits before Tim can continue the chivilrous act and pull out his chair. ]
You know, I never asked why you haven’t found someone that’s lasted longer than a few dates? What pool are you fishing in, so I can steer well and clear? [ He doesn’t want to be laughed at, and anyone that would turn Tim down… well. They’d hardly look at Martin (who wouldn’t even call himself hideous). ]
Well, the first thing you need to know about dancing... [ Tim says knowingly, as if Martin seriously asked. ] Is that it takes more than one pint to find any rythym. At least for Englishmen like you and I. You need three at the very least and by that point, being on rythym is an accomplishment.
[ Tim murmurs a "Welcome" as Martin ducks past him, a little color on his cheeks and he gives him the tiniest of frowns when he doesn't allow him to get his chair first. He knows he's pushing this too hard as a joke, when it's not one. Not really. But it isn't entirely not one either.
They both know that Tim Stoker is not the non-Jon version of dark acadamia that Martin needs in his life. Tim Stoker is convienent, fun and leaves you with a bit of a headache. Not to different from the shots he'd had instead of the pint, the few times they'd gone to the pub together.
Tim lowers himself into his chair and fixes Martin with a serious look. He thinks about the answer for a longer amount of time than he thinks either of them expected. ] The truth is [ He says, leaning in over the table a little.] Is that I'm not sure I want to catch anyone, or be caught. [ He straightens up a little, surprised at his own honesty.] I have a bad habit of falling a little in love with everyone, which means that I can't really give just one person everything. Not that I think one person is enough to put up with my everything, anyway... [ He trails off. ] But we're here to talk about you, Martin. What are you afraid of?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
For @positivelyroomy
Date: 2025-07-07 03:16 pm (UTC)Tim had a lot of friends. Making them had always been easy for him, even if most of them didn’t really know very much about him. Not really. Sasha was probably the closest thing to a best friend he had, and that was probably because he hadn’t yet muddied the waters by complicating things with physical benefits and because they’d known each other for so long. There was also the fact that she seemed to see through him in a way that few people did. It made it easier to share the parts of himself that he was too ashamed to share with the others. He’d told her about Danny, about how he couldn’t face his parents, about all the one-night stands and failed romances and frustrations that came with the job. She was a great listener and though they gossiped like any other pair of Institute coworkers, Sasha rarely judged. Still, he hadn’t told her about Martin taking him up on his offer, if only because he knew she’d tell him it was a bad idea.
Martin was, well, Tim wouldn’t say he was fragile. Not after he’d endured Jon’s ire and bad moods so many times and had seemed to bounce back to his usual affable self. Sensitive, maybe. Tim had meant what he’d said about Martin deserving someone who could love him back, but he also knew that he wasn’t the answer. The most he could do was maybe boost Martin’s confidence and show him a good time and hope that was enough to get Martin unstuck from his infatuation with Jon so that he could move on. He knew there was a possibility for things to get complicated, but he’d told himself all morning that if he was straight and upfront that no one would get hurt. Deep down, however, he knew that if he really believed that he would’ve told Sasha the real reason he wasn’t available for drinks that evening. Instead, he’d said an old friend was coming to town and given her a wink that she’d rolled her eyes over.
He’d pretended he was actually going through the stack of papers on his desk as she’d left the office, giving her a few minutes to walk her usual path to the underground entrance two blocks over before he’d gathered his things and made his way to Martin’s desk. He could hear the faint drone of Jon’s voice coming from behind his closed door. Tim leaned against the partition with his right shoulder, reaching up to loosen his tie and giving Martin a teasing smirk.] Ready to go, Tiger?
no subject
Date: 2025-07-07 10:11 pm (UTC)With Jon, Martin could at least appreciate him from afar. Care for him in his own special way, with tea and gentle…somewhat passive-aggressive reminders that the man was still human and needed to eat and sleep. There was little in fooling himself that the man would see him with his stupid acts of service and suddenly be amenable to holding his hand while they went out on one of their lunches. It was harmless, because only Martin’s feelings would take a bruising. Jon was too wrapped up in his work and painfully oblivious to any dropped hints. Going out with Tim feels risky, however. He can't quite put a finger on why, beyond loathing the idea he's being pitied.
Martin isn't stupid. A tad awkward–but not as awkward as he lets on. Horribly content to burn himself at both ends to warm others (yes), but far from delusional. He knows this is Tim's way to try and pry Martin out of his shell so he could go on an actual date. With someone else. He doesn't doubt that Tim wants the best for him, but it won't be Martin inspiring anything more than friendly affection. A casual, whirlwind romance without the actual romance. Just as well.
His day had crawled by in distracted, idle daydreams anyway, despite Martin's best efforts not to indulge. By the time Tim slides over to his desk, he'd reread the last line roughly three times without comprehending a nugget of meaning. The nickname makes him twitch in surprise, but he saves face by pressing back against his chair, head tipping in Tim's direction. He can't help but roll his eyes, but there is a smile to smooth over the knee-jerk sass. He shuts away his things for the day with a restless hum that possibly passes for nonchalance. ]
God, that's terrible. [ Martin actually laughs, standing and brushing himself off. He throws a cursory look at Jon’s closed door and mentally shakes off some of the nerves. BECAUSE WHY? ] Let’s go before he asks me for the report he’s been breathing down my neck for.
[ Does he know where they’re going? No. He trusts Tim, though. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-07-08 02:35 am (UTC)He pushed through the front doors and sighs with relief as he's greeted with the warm, fresh air of a mid-Summer sunset. The windows of the institute reflect a calm orange and the sounds of the street are a welcome change from the faint hum of the fluorescent lights of the building. He turns back to Martin, giving him a broad smile.] Free at last!
[ He wraps an arm around Martin's shoulders, though he leaves the touch light enough that it can be easily shrugged off. Tim tends to be tactile when it comes to his friends, but he's also aware that no everyone is as comfortable with touch as he is. He waits for any hint of tensing as a mark for whether or not he's being too familiar, too fast. ] What do you fancy for dinner? I know a chinese place a few blocks over that I think you might like.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-09 04:35 pm (UTC)I'm surprised Sasha didn't give me any weird looks today… Don't you two usually do drinks after work?
[ They're outside, and what lingers of the evening light is quite pretty. Tim’s smile is also quite nice. He has to turn away to hide the slight flush at his easy affection, but this was a test for the real thing, wasn't it? He boldly – for him at least – wraps the arm trapped between the two of them around Tim's waist.
A thought comes to him, and he casts a mildly suspicious look toward his friend. ]
You didn't tell her, did you? Don't think I can be placated by steamed dumplings. [ They both know he can, and will. Their hips bump, intentionally and in retribution on Martin's part, before he gives up on giving him a hard time. ] You've been holding out on me?
no subject
Date: 2025-07-09 05:02 pm (UTC)He grins when Martin wraps an arm around his waist, squeezing his shoulder encouragingly, though it fades a little at his question. He doesn't want Martin to think that this is some dirty little secret or an act of pity. It's not, really. It's just an opportunity with no consequences. Telling Sasha would've had consequences. He's sure of it. ] Couldn't let her get jealous, could I?
[ He gives Martin a look that's just short of a wink and pulls him in the direction of the restaurant. ] The dinner is better than the lunch, besides, it's kind of my go to date spot. Don't want everyone knowing about it, or it'll lose it's charm.
[ He tries to think of the number of times that he and Martin have actually been alone in the last couple of months and only comes up with a handful. The three of them usually go to lunch together a few times a week, but usually it's rushed because Jon will say something if they're late. It's hard to remember that he hadn't always been that way. He used to be their third before Martin was.] So boss man has been on you this week?
no subject
Date: 2025-07-10 10:10 pm (UTC)[ So he lied to himself about being done with teasing Tim. Is… there a personality there? Beyond being a pushover and a people pleaser, that is. God–how can some people just pull off winking unironically? Must be nice being god’s favorite. He allows himself to be guided down another sidewalk, keen to look around at the surrounding shops just in case he decided to spend money on himself for once, but the question makes him grumble. He wishes he knew the Jon that Sasha and Tim had in research… but considering how bad he’s got it now, it probably would have put him six feet under to see the man …quasi relaxed. ]
That’s bold of you to assume he knows an alternative when he gets focused on something. [ He’s… better. Martin isn’t actively scared of him snapping at him, but that sensitive little heart of his keeps beating to get bruised. Martin deserves nice things. ] Aren’t you meant to make me not think about him? [ His lack of rizz means it sounds like a genuine question (it is!) rather than a flirty challenge. Alas. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-07-13 01:34 am (UTC)[ It's funny how the last thing he wants to talk about is Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, and somehow he's managed to instantly kick off this distraction of a date by talking about punching his buttons, after bringing up work. Not his best work.
Tim's face falls into an unimpressed look at Martin saying he's doing better. Not from what he's seen, though at least it looks like Martin's growing a tougher skin. But he's right, this isn't about him. It's about Martin.] Yeah, sorry. You're right. Forget the boss, let's talk about you.
What exactly is your type? Other than humanoid robot and office hunk?
no subject
Date: 2025-08-05 11:31 pm (UTC)I’m not going to be able to look at him the next time he’s recording, so, thanks for that.
[ Tim’s apology and following question both deserve the eye roll, but it’s good natured. He gently squeezes said ‘office hunk’s’ arm. It’s easier to act the part of an affectionate date than come up with an answer. ]
Don’t sell yourself short, Tim. You’re pretty and smart. [ It’s such a ridiculous thing to say… this was his coworker. He’d have to look him in the eye. But he’s grinning, despite the vaguest hint of embarrassment. ] I don’t know, really? What do think my type would be? [ What a cop-out! ]
no subject
Date: 2025-08-13 02:11 am (UTC)[ He appreciates the physical contact, even if Martin does completely ignore his question.He bats his eyelashes coquettishly and smiles. ] Thanks, Martin. I like to think so.
[ He takes a moment to think his answer over.It's not as if he's an expert on dating, though he's certainly put in his 1000 hours, but despite his joking around, he does want to actually help Martin come out of his tortoise shell a little bit.] You need a romantic.Someone you can read your poetry to and walk around London with. Someone to sweep you off your feet and out of your office chair from time to time. Preferably a nice bloke with a dog named after some literary character who smells like candlelgiht and books.
The guy, not the dog.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-21 08:04 pm (UTC)It’s very difficult to not slip into thinking this is charity work. If Tim knew him for all of his faults, he’d never volunteer his time for such a fruitless endeavor. The mention of his poetry yanks him from his problematic thoughts and he sputters. ] Intentionally read it, or would he just burst into the room uninvited while I’m recording it?
[ Yes, there’s a slight hint of side-eye, but there’s barely any heat behind it. The rest. It sounds nice, in a way that makes him feel a certain type of way. ]
If I couldn’t find that when I worked in the library, how am I going to find it in the archives, Tim? It’s not exactly overstaffed. [ He sighs, and maybe he presses a little closer to his friend’s side while mulling it over more. ] Candlelight and books? Am I that much of a hipster? [ Yes... Martin, lowkey. Can’t wait for vinyl to get popular again. ] Are you going to suggest someone that puts on the oldies and takes me for a spin around the living room, next?
[ No, he’s not YEARNING for something that’ll never happen. Nope. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-08-26 10:40 pm (UTC)That's what I'm saying, you need to widen your net to people outside of the Institute. Especially if you're going to get anyone with any manners. [ He tightens his arm around Martin's shoulders in a soft squeeze as he presses a little closer. Despite this tendency to overreact and be way too involved in the Boss's every, well, everything, he's remarkably fond of Martin. He's always there if Tim needs to bitch about the boss or last night's date and he doesn't even have to ask for tea or biscuits any more. It's like Martin seems to know when he's parched or hungry. He's even started giving some of the guff Tim gives him back to him, which is a sign of progress, Tim thinks.]
Absolutely not! [ He shoots him a look of mock offense.] Hipsters can't dance.
[ He chuckles as they cross the final street to the Chinese place. It's busy, but not so much that they can't have a conversation.] I'm just saying, you strike me as the romantic type, Martin. You take care of everyone else; you need someone who will take care of you. Someone who opens doors for you. [ As if to demonstrate, he moves to grab the door for him and gives him the tiniest of bows.] Someone who brings out that dark sense of humour of yours.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-29 09:13 pm (UTC)Maybe he could invite him over to kick his ass in Mario Kart or something. That’s what friends do, right? This is how his mind wanders in order to not focus on the sweet things that Tim believes he deserves. ]
We’ve only been to the pub for drinks, where I sat with a pint. You’re bold for thinking that I know anything about dancing.
[ It’s not like he’d be prone to stepping on toes; he’s far too familiar with the space he occupies. He’s too in his own thoughts to let himself go. Shame. ]
So …dark academia, as a man. Who’s not Jon. [ Martin pauses when they’re finally at the door, jerking to not double down on opening the door when Tim is doing for him. His cheeks go pink. ] Oh… thanks? [ He slips inside, willing the blush to go down. He puts his order in ( my American ass got very depressed by looking up Chinese takeout in England ) before finding a seat tucked off to the side. He sits before Tim can continue the chivilrous act and pull out his chair. ]
You know, I never asked why you haven’t found someone that’s lasted longer than a few dates? What pool are you fishing in, so I can steer well and clear? [ He doesn’t want to be laughed at, and anyone that would turn Tim down… well. They’d hardly look at Martin (who wouldn’t even call himself hideous). ]
no subject
Date: 2025-09-27 08:44 pm (UTC)[ Tim murmurs a "Welcome" as Martin ducks past him, a little color on his cheeks and he gives him the tiniest of frowns when he doesn't allow him to get his chair first. He knows he's pushing this too hard as a joke, when it's not one. Not really. But it isn't entirely not one either.
They both know that Tim Stoker is not the non-Jon version of dark acadamia that Martin needs in his life. Tim Stoker is convienent, fun and leaves you with a bit of a headache. Not to different from the shots he'd had instead of the pint, the few times they'd gone to the pub together.
Tim lowers himself into his chair and fixes Martin with a serious look. He thinks about the answer for a longer amount of time than he thinks either of them expected. ] The truth is [ He says, leaning in over the table a little.] Is that I'm not sure I want to catch anyone, or be caught. [ He straightens up a little, surprised at his own honesty.] I have a bad habit of falling a little in love with everyone, which means that I can't really give just one person everything. Not that I think one person is enough to put up with my everything, anyway... [ He trails off. ] But we're here to talk about you, Martin. What are you afraid of?