The Weekend Arrangement

Indelibly Marked

Increasingly cold and blustery, the change in weather and the approaching date of their anniversary had made it nearly impossible to not think about the night of the terrible storm that had blown Martin onto the stoop. Hard not to think about how an accidentally sent text and a kiss meant for comfort on a rainy night had led to this. Had led to the first time for either to feel truly comfortable; with themselves and with another person.

After a year they were determined to make it something memorable. Their first anniversary- and it had been a giddy evening finishing a bottle of wine purchased for a recipe when they decided to do an internet search for 'first anniversary ideas'. It had only led to confusion as they stared at the information they found.

" Paper ?" Jon scowled darkly at the screen of his phone. "What's that even supposed to mean ?"

"I honestly have no idea, Jon. That's just what it says. Paper." Martin shrugged, just as baffled as Jon.

"Well it's nonsense. Paper. I'd like to get you something nicer than a card."

" I mean- I think you can stretch it to whatever paper adjacent things you'd like? It's just tradition though. We don't have to do traditional ."

"Tradition can be good- I like tradition."

When Jon slid into Martin's lap, his kisses tasted like dark fruit and red wine; and he melted into the way Martin's hands ran into his hair, pulling out his elastic to play with the strands as they spilled around his face.

"Well, we still have some time to figure out what the hell paper means- and it is Friday, Don't we already have a Friday tradition?"

Nibbling and licking down Martin's jaw Jon savoured the shiver he got as he rolled his hips deliberately and slowly; and Martin was already lifting him off the couch to carry him upstairs by the time Jon whispered into his ear.

"I would hate to break with tradition, Martin ... "

The week leading up to their anniversary had been filled with gifts.

It had started with a tin of expensive tea next to the kettle, something Martin would never spend the money on for himself. It was decorated with a tiny bow and a short, desperately romantic love note in Jon's cultured penmanship.

The note was clearly trying to be poetry; and it was so wonderfully awful Martin had almost cried out of joy right there in the kitchen before Jon woke up.

He'd never been with anyone long enough to celebrate an anniversary, and certainly never dreamed he'd ever have someone attempting to write love poems for him. The small gift was proof of how good things were. Evidence that they were settled and together and in love and Martin thought he might actually die from how happy he was.

The next day Jon found a simple note on the bathroom mirror: Already had my shower, love; take as much hot water as you want. Towels are in the dryer, I'll bring you a warm one when I hear you're up and about. And you can have the jumper I'm wearing-it's my good cabled one so it should be nice enough for you to wear it to work if you want.

It was such a small thing, but to Jon it was enormous. The day outside was sodden and grey and being late November managed to look as wretchedly cold as it almost certainly was. The kind of damp, miserable weather that penetrated right through his skinny frame and sank woefully into his bones.

Martin had woken up, and rearranged his whole morning routine just so Jon could have the longest, hottest shower; and then thought ahead to be ready with warmed towels and a pre-warmed, Martin scented jumper. It was staggeringly thoughtful and revealed how deeply Martin both knew him and considered his needs without being asked.