Jonathan Sims

Any remaining shreds of Martin's amusement fade under the soft, ever-so-slightly bitter tone of John's eventual reply. It makes sense, now that he thinks about it; it would never have occurred to him not only because he hadn't been able to imagine it flattering that he harbored any apparent doubts about John's integrity, in addition to just... well, not realizing this might be a new experience for John.

For a moment, he's not sure what to say. A few options rise up only to be dismissed at once: surely that's not true doing no one any good, and any anecdote about how long he managed to feel jealous of Georgie — to say nothing of everyone John's ever got on well with — unthinkable for a variety of reasons. It doesn't change that this is, to John, something only Martin has, would ever experience.

But he's more than certain pity isn't the right response. He doesn't think anyone's ever been jealous over him, either, John included, but it isn't a feeling he thinks he misses, and the idea of anyone feeling sorry for him over it is kind of horrible. He imagines John wouldn't have felt that way either until suddenly presented with it. Perhaps, then, it has less to do with John's own relative likability and more to do with his, Martin's, own capacity to feel this way.

"Well," he says firmly after a moment, leaning down to plant a soft, lingering kiss at the base of John's neck. Despite his confident tone, he still doesn't quite know what he's about to say, and it surprises him slightly when it ends up being: "Perhaps that's because I defeated them all in single combat."

Absurd is better than maudlin, he thinks, and he decides to lean into it, sitting back up and resuming the care of John's back and shoulders. "So those entities had better watch out," he adds, "and Norah had better not get any ideas, either."