Adult Content Warning
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Summary
“What--” He stops to compulsively lick his lips. His back hits the wall-- he’d started backing up at some point and he hadn’t noticed. He can’t tear his eyes away from the man on his couch. No. The creature. “What are you?”
Martin finally looks up from his book. He looks at Jon. He doesn’t look like Prentiss. He isn’t full of gaping holes that should have killed him, he isn’t covered in squirming, shiny white worms, he doesn’t smell like a moldy, rotting corpse. He looks like a pleasant, normal man. He has freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose, his cheeks. Monsters shouldn’t have freckles, Jon thinks nonsensically.
“I’m your boyfriend,” the monster sitting on his couch says, as if this is a matter that is not up for debate, that Jon has no say in.