#martinpeter

Martin finally lifted his eyes from his stack of paperwork to give Peter a long look.

“Trust,” Peter said, ignoring the poison glare, “Means that you need someone to get the job done.”

“Your point isn’t getting any stronger,” Martin said doing his best Jon impression. “You need me. You said so yourself.”

“Oh, Martin. I don’t need you.” Peter was smug. Martin hated it. It was worse than Peter’s false sympathies.

I don’t need you.

Like it all meant nothing, like his sacrifice and loneliness were nothing and even when it felt like he was balancing the world on his shoulders he was completely and utterly unimportant.

“You’re convenient,” Peter added, off hand, digging in. “You’re not even the best choice. Jon is. Such a lonely creature. Amazing the Eye got him first. The only reason I don’t is–”

“Elias?” Martin supplied voice void of emotion.

“He was very clear. I get everything except the Archivist. Elias might be in chains, but he’s still a strong enough ally that I don’t intend to directly interfere with him.”

“But you don’t need him,” Martin put in, bitterly.

Peter grinned showing too many teeth. “I am very fond of Elias, but no, and I definitely don’t trust him. You all gift wrapped for me was calculated. There’s some benefit to him having me–”

“Corrupt me.”

“That isn’t my game, Martin. Corruption isn’t subtle.”

“What is all this about?” Martin asked.

“Now, now, you look unhappy, Martin. Did I hurt your feelings?”

“I’m not unhappy. I don’t care what you say or think as long as…”

“Jon is safe,” Peter waved his hand. “Yes, yes. Do you know why we find Beholding types so … fascinating?”

“I thought I was a ‘beholding type.”

Peter ignored him. “Your interest in Jon is because he’s the only one that ever bothered looking at you.”

Martin tensed. He didn’t want to do this right now.

“That isn’t–”

“I heard you didn’t get along at first.”

When had Peter gotten so close? His hand was on Martin’s shoulder, his icy breath chilling Martin’s ear.

“But you still basked in his gaze. You felt his annoyance and disgust, but it wasn’t because of your father’s face. It wasn’t about anyone else for once.  It was because you were affecting him. Making him see you. It was heady.”

Martin closed his eyes tightly. “Shut up.”

“The very idea, that sometimes he would be thinking of you.” Peter continued. “How could you ever let it go? So he became so special to you. Jon. The one that saw you.”

“Shut up, Peter.”

“I don’t need you,” Peter said, thrilled with himself. “I don’t trust you.” He added. He rested his chin on Martin’s shoulder. “But I do admire your commitment. You’re learning self reliance now, Martin. I’m freeing you from other people’s opinions. He isn’t what makes you exist.”

Peter turned Martin in his chair, hands on either side of him. Looking at him directly.

“What if I told you I saw you?” Peter asked.

Martin’s stomach dropped. He lowered his eyes. Peter was looking right through him.

“I wouldn’t believe it,” Martin hissed.

“Good boy,” Peter cupped his cheek and forced his head up again. “But you’d like me to, wouldn’t you?”

He hated that he was so lonely now that even the full gaze of Peter Lukas sounded warming. That his cold hand felt like a point of connection.

“How would this help anything?” Martin asked. “It would just make me feel… lonelier… and you’re not…” Martin frowned trailing off, really looking at Peter now.

“Are you getting off on this?!” He shoved Peter away, standing. Peter let himself be pushed back. Didn’t approach again.

Peter looked so satisfied.

“You’re not altruistic,” Martin said angrily. “You… you like that I don’t… want you. You’re not giving me a… a pep talk at all.”

Peter snerked. “Pep talk. No. Just admiring your devotion. I’m envious. It makes me feel… lost at sea. You have a very pleasant effect on me.”

Martin hated that he felt flattered. Hated that Peter not needing him, or trusting him, but… but wanting him… meant something. Was something. Felt good.

And that the moment he gave in and showed any of it Peter would be gone. A wave rolling back into the sea.

He glared up at Peter, knowing the new bite of loneliness among all the older scars was completely intentional.

“I am very fond of you, Martin,” Peter said. He straightened. “I have to go to a party. You can lock up shop, right?” He didn’t hesitate to see how Martin would answer. Just pulled away. Instead of feeling warmer which was usually the case when Peter finally left his presence Martin felt frozen. Angry. Ashamed.

He tried to focus on the paperwork, or Jon… but his mind continued to wander to Peter Lukas…imagining what it would feel like to have his dark blue eyes meet his.