29, Jon/Elias or Jon/Martin?
29. selcouth - unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet wonderful.
*
Jon comes to him after Ny-Alesund.
Elias knows that he’s coming. It isn’t a surprise when his cell door opens and he sees Jon framed there, righteous and wrathful. But it is an utterly singular experience, seeing his Archivist in person after all this time. Elias might call it religious, if that weren’t so trite.
He already knows how Jon has transformed. Emerging from the chrysalis of sleep wet-winged and uncertain, unfurling through the heat of adversity into something beautiful and deadly. But he hasn’t truly seen it until now, the full splendor in the flesh.
It steals the breath from his lungs.
Before he can speak a word, Elias finds himself crowded against the wall, Jon’s hands curled in his collar. Jonathan Sims is not a physically imposing man, but the look in his eyes sends a thrill down Elias’ spine. They promise fear and pain, knowing stripped like muscle from bone.
“Nice to see you, Jon.” He keeps his voice level with an effort of will. Jon’s lip curls.
“You knew,” Jon says harshly. “You knew what would happen, and you didn’t give us a hint of warning. Basira almost died.”
Still the same Jon despite it all, so rare for an Archivist, so tender hearted. Beautifully wounded by the cruelties of the world, and determined to defend others from it.
“Basira made her own choices,” says Elias, “As have you. But you’re not here only to chastise me, I’m sure. What do you want, Jon?”
Jon’s fingers flex and twist in the fabric of Elias’ shirt. He is glorious to Elias’ eyes, glowing with a radiance he can’t believe other people do not see, the Archivist’s magnificent dread seeping from every joint of him like liquid gold. It is nearly blinding, but Elias cannot look away.
“The truth,” Jon tells him. “And that’s why you hid from me, isn’t it? Because you were afraid I’d get it from you.”
Jon’s brow is furrowed with fury and confusion, as if he himself isn’t entirely sure what he wants, what this truth is that he seeks. Elias’ chest aches at the familiarity and the strangeness of him. His Archivist, grown beyond all expectation. He raises his hands to cover Jon’s where they grasp his collar. Jon’s skin feels electric under his palms, unknown and enthralling.
Elias closes his eyes for a moment, and still sees Jon, bright as an afterimage against his eyelids.
“I didn’t want to influence you. Your…development. But you’ve done so well, Jon. You’ve become so much more than I could have imagined.”
Jon flushes involuntarily at the praise, but his expression is fierce and unsparing.
“I’ve become something,” he says, leaning close. “Something I think is stronger than you. I’m going to ask you some questions, Elias. And you’re going to answer me.”
His breath is warm on Elias’ cheek. His voice is filled with the promise of compulsion, irresistible and terrible. It is a promise that Elias believes. He tightens his fingers around Jon’s wrists.
“If you can make me answer,” he says hoarsely, “Then you’re ready to know.”
Jon’s lips part by his ear, and Elias shivers at what’s to come.
I’m full up on prompts for now, thanks to everyone who submitted one!