You Can't Judge a Book by Its Oddly Specific Call Number (2/2)
Part One
---
Ryan was trying to concentrate on his book. The Children’s Library really wasn’t that busy, so he had plenty of time to finish, but his attention kept wandering over to the corner of the room, where Brendon was sitting on a rocking chair (a rocking chair, for fuck’s sake) reading to a small mass of children.
Brendon was reading Where the Wild Things Are to the kids and Ryan couldn’t help but smile a little as Brendon made the grumbling noise of a monster. But when Brendon jumped up to do a silly dance and turned around, wiggling his ass, Ryan looked down, looked away from the display.
He could see the sides of some of the kid’s faces, could see how enthralled they were. Some of them had their mouths hanging open and their eyes were wide. Brendon was putting everything he had into the story, voice loud and jovial. It was almost too much, too cute, too precious, making Ryan feel too many emotions that he really hadn’t thought that he possessed, when a couple of the little kids stood up and started wiggling around with Brendon.
“That’s it!” Brendon yelled excitedly. “Come on, everyone up. Do the wild and wiggly tush waggle!” Some more of the kids stood up, little bodies jumping around, bouncing into each other.
Brendon looked over towards Ryan. “Ryan! Come do the waggle with us!” Even from across the room Ryan was a little stunned from the force of Brendon’s smile but he shook his head.
“I don’t waggle,” Ryan said.
“What about wiggle?” Brendon asked
Ryan frowned. “Nope, don’t do that either.”
“One day, Ryan Ross,” Brendon vowed. “One day I’ll get you to wiggle and waggle with me.”
Ryan sincerely hoped that five year olds didn’t understand double entendres.
---
“I liked the story you read today to the kids,” Ryan told Brendon, taking a second to take a sip of his coffee. “It was really cute.”
Brendon’s eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. “Are you telling me that you’ve never read Where the Wild Things Are before?!”
Ryan shrugged. “I was never really into children’s books.”
“But, Ryan,” Brendon said, reaching across the small table to wrap one of his hands around Ryan’s wrist, as if the contact was needed to make him understand. “Children’s books are amazing! Well, not all of them, but there are definitely a few that are more than just simple sentences and cute storylines.”
Ryan raised up one eyebrow. “I’m sure.”
“It’s true. I’ll bring you one. I’ll bring you my favorite children’s book, and then you’ll see just how wrong you are.”
“Looking forward to it,” Ryan said, a little surprised to find himself smiling coyly, leaning a little over the table, Brendon’s hand still warm on his wrist. Ryan coughed. “Um, so I finished The Awakening.”
Brendon blinked, and his hold around Ryan’s wrist loosened until he pulled his hand away completely. Ryan tried not to notice how cold and bare his wrist suddenly felt. “Oh. Did you like it?”
Ryan nodded. “More than I thought I would, actually. Especially the ending. I like how Chopin used Edna’s suicide to show how much love took from her. It was like she was giving up on life by giving up on love. Really intense.”
“That’s how you read it?” Brendon asked, hand reaching up to push back a falling strand of hair. “That’s so depressing.”
“But that’s what happened,” Ryan said, shrugging. “And usually life is depressing.”
Brendon shook his head. “No, see, you can read the ending a different way. It’s all about your perspective. When I read it, for example, I didn’t see Edna walking into the ocean as a surrender to the men in her life, but I saw it as her finally taking control of her future.”
Ryan frowned. “But she was so easily yanked about by her husband and her lover. And that other guy, the one that starts with an A. She was weak. Love made her weak.”
“Just because she fell in love doesn’t mean that she was weak, Ryan. In fact, the end proves just how strong she is. She doesn’t even struggle,” Brendon pointed out. “She makes a decision and sticks with it.”
“But-” Ryan stopped himself. “I can’t believe we’re arguing about the motives of a fictional character’s suicide.”
Brendon let out a little chuckle. “It is a little cliché, isn’t it? Library employees talking about nothing but books?”
Ryan’s lips quirked up. “Ok, well, I like other things too.”
“Like what?” Brendon asked, and he was leaning in again, Ryan could see the line of his back curve as Brendon bent further over the table. His hands, however, remained by his sides.
“Music,” Ryan started. “My dog, the occasional burst of television, overly pretentious movies that ruin my taste for the mainstream stuff. Oh, and I love gummy bears.”
“Gummy fish,” Brendon argued. “Gummy fish are way better.”
Ryan made a face. “No, gummy bears are the original and the supreme. Don’t even start with all those cheap knock offs.”
Brendon grinned. “Never read children’s books? Doesn’t like gummy fish?” He shook his head to himself. “You have a lot to learn, Ryan Ross.”
And Ryan definitely didn’t say something cliché like ‘well, you’ll have to teach me’, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t think it.
---
When Ryan finished his coffee with Brendon (he was surprised how long they were in there, actually - it didn’t feel that long) he had two missed calls from Spencer, so instead of calling him back, Ryan just headed over to Spencer’s apartment.
“Where were you?” Spencer asked in lieu of a welcoming when he opened the door. “I called your cell phone like six times.”
“Two times,” Ryan responded, holding up said amount of fingers. “Don’t over exaggerate. And I was out.” He didn’t really want to tell Spencer where exactly he was. Not for any reason in particular. He just didn’t want Spencer reading into anything. People who worked in libraries were all like that. Always overanalyzing everything.
Spencer tilted his head to the side, bright blue eyes staring at Ryan. “Oh my god, you were out with the newbie!” he exclaimed.
“Shut up,” Ryan automatically responded, more out of defensive memory than anything else. “And how the fuck can you tell that?”
“It’s all in the glow, Ryan,” Spencer answered, smiling. “You looked like Cameron Diaz a half hour into one of her movies or something.”
“Stop it,” Ryan warned.
“Hugh Grant,” Spencer amended. “So, how was it? Where’d you go? What’d you do? Were you an asshole? Please tell me you weren’t an asshole. I like Brendon, he’s adorable.”
“He is,” Ryan agreed. “He’s adorable, and therefore he is not my type,” he said firmly. “We went to coffee so he could thank me for helping him out during story time, and we talked about books and stuff.”
“And stuff,” Spencer repeated. He looked skeptically at Ryan. “Like what?”
Ryan huffed, looking for an out. “We talked about the new card catalogue system,” he lied. “And about that guy, you know, Jon.”
“God, that guy is so annoying,” Spencer said, perfectly falling into Ryan’s trap. He mentally congratulated himself. “He’s all nice and has this cute little smile and nice arms and…” Spencer frowned. “But he’s ruining our library and forcing us to conform to the illiterate masses.”
“Why would the illiterate masses be in a library?” Ryan asked, trying not to laugh at Spencer.
“Shut it, Ross,” Spencer threw back. “But really, that guy is the most condescending ass ever. He’s always talking to me like I’m stupid. His voice is so sweet and smooth, and it’s fucking getting on my nerves.”
Ryan grinned. “I think he likes you.”
“I think he wants to break my soul along with the intelligence of thousands.”
“God, this is so Pride and Predjudice,” Ryan said. “Is Jon going to be your Mr. Darcy?”
Spencer shot Ryan a glare. “Is Brendon your Bingley?”
Ryan frowned. “Oh fuck that. I would totally be Elizabeth.” He caught himself. “I mean-” He flustered. “Fuck you, Spencer.” Spencer looked victorious, so Ryan added on, “I’d bet Jon would like to.”
---
Spencer sat down next to Ryan behind the information desk. “How’s lover boy?” Spencer asked, smiling snidely.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Ryan responded, “but I won’t because I’m not talking to you.”
“You kind of just did,” Spencer pointed out. “Also, that is so middle school.”
“Whatever,” Ryan huffed, getting up to go to the circulation desk to ask Gerard a question about the new Palahniuk book. He wanted to get his hands on it before it went into circulation.
When Ryan got up to the desk, he gave a short wave over at Ray, who was scanning a big stack of books for some girl, who nearly toppled under the weight of all her choices.
“Hey, where’s Gerard?” Ryan asked, leaning a little bit over the desk to peak into the back room. “Oh, never mind, I don’t want to interrupt,” he said.
Inside the back room, Ryan could just make out Gerard, flushed bright red, talking to a short guy covered in tattoos. Gerard’s hands were waving around everywhere, something Ryan knew that he did when he was very passionate about something. Or very nervous.
“So, how long has the interlibrary loan guy been here?” Ryan questioned.
“About five minutes,” said Ray. “I’m impressed that he hasn’t been scared off yet, to be honest. Gerard can’t seem to make a full logical sentence come out around that guy. It’s actually sort of cute.”
“Right now it is. It always starts out cute,” Ryan pointed out. “It’s the end that’s messy.”
“Who said there always has to be an end?”
Ryan frowned. “There just is.” Ray looked at him appraisingly, and Ryan wondered if either Gerard or Spencer had said something to him about Brendon. “Well, just tell Gerard to come find me when he’s done with his, uh, conversation.”
Ray nodded, and Ryan made his way back to the information desk, but stopped a little short when she saw that Jon was there, sitting next to Spencer, showing him something on the computer. Ryan bit his lower lip to stop the evil grin from spreading across his face and moved to the shelf nearest to the desk, pulling books in and out to look busy.
Spencer looked up, and when he saw Ryan, he frowned, but didn’t say anything.
“So you just have to make sure that the barcodes match. Here, I’ll show you how to make a hold. And how to erase those pesky library fines of friends,” Jon said, and Ryan could see the he was leaning, ever so slightly, against Spencer.
“I can’t erase fines,” Spencer stated, trying not to look over and glare at Ryan, still messing with the books. “That would be immoral.”
“You wouldn’t even take away my fines?” Jon asked, and when Ryan turned at the tone, the tone, he could see Jon smiling and Spencer blushing.
Ryan watched Spencer. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe,” he relented.
Jon’s nodded happily and leaned in a little closer to Spencer, his voice lowering, but Ryan could still hear it. “Okay, so the thing is, I’m going to ask you on a date now, and it’d be really awesome if you said yes.”
Spencer looked up, over at Ryan, and then back down at Jon. Ryan had never seen Spencer so taken off guard before. “Oh, sure. I mean, yes,” he said.
“Cool,” Jon responded. “I mean, if you said no things would have gotten awkward, what with me continuously asking you and all.”
Spencer couldn’t hide his smile.
---
When Ryan came back from lunch (it was Wednesday, which meant he indulged in a little Mexican take out) there was a book lying on his side of the desk with a little bag of Swedish Fish placed on top.
“Brendon brought it by,” Spencer said, not even bothering to keep a straight face. “He said that he was going to ‘open your eyes’”. He snickered. “Dirty.”
“So,” Ryan asked sweetly, “excited for your date with Jon?”
“I hate you,” Spencer said, but there was little venom in his words. “And I don’t know, maybe it’ll actually go well.”
Spencer had about as much luck in love as Ryan, but Ryan didn’t want to jinx his best friend or anything, so he smiled and said, “I’m sure that you two will have a lot of fun.”
He looked down at the book that Brendon left for him. The title was covered by a bright pink post-it note that said “Pages 128-129. Take a chance.” Baffled, Ryan pulled the post-it note off and stuck it to the inside cover.
“The Giver,” Ryan said to himself. He turned to Spencer. “Have you ever read this?” He held up the book, the black and white picture of an old man giving way to the bright colors of the sun through trees.
“Yeah,” Spencer said. “Read it a long time ago. Actually, I should probably read it again. It’s one of those books where it’s marketed as a children’s book, but I doubt that kids really get everything that it’s trying to convey, you know? Like, it has layers. More than you would expect.”
“Yeah,” Ryan responded, a little distracted. “Hey, cover for me, I’m just going to be gone for a second.”
Spencer frowned. “You just got back from lunch, Ross.” He shook his head and muttered something under his breath about wasting the tax payer’s money.
Ryan headed down the curved stairs towards the lower level where the Children’s Section was. As soon as he hit the bottom, he could see Brendon at his desk, leaning over a little bit, talking to a small boy.
“The Summer Reading Club starts the first week of June,” Ryan could hear Brendon say as he got closer. “This year’s theme is pirates - I hope you’re excited.” He handed the little boy a bright blue piece of paper. “Make sure to give that to your mom and dad.”
The little boy nodded and scooted away. When Brendon saw Ryan standing there by the desk, his grin grew. “Hey, Ry.”
Ryan held up The Giver. “So, is this worth my time?”
“I wouldn’t have given you anything that wasn’t,” Brendon assured. “You’ll like it, I promise. You just have to forget what you think you know and take it for what it is.”
“It’s not a love story, is it?” Ryan asked, trying to stop his face from scrunching up, though he wasn’t sure how well that worked out.
Brendon laughed. “No, not really, no. I was warned off from giving you anything too sappy.”
Ryan almost pouted. “What do you mean warned off? And ‘not really’?”
“Spencer said you hate happy endings because you’re secretly terrified that you’re not going to have one,” Brendon said, and Ryan was sure that his heart stopped because that was…..just ridiculous. “And The Giver isn’t a romance by any means, but it’s about love.” He grinned at Ryan. “Everything always comes back to that, after all.”
---
“So,” Ryan said, grabbing for the dinner rolls to his left, “I saw you talking to Frank the other day.”
Gerard hummed, keeping his eyes down at his plate, poking at the chicken there. “That’s interesting.”
Ryan shot a look at Spencer, who relented. “Well, spill.”
“He came in to deliver books from the Bosler Library. That’s it, really,” Gerard answered, taking the rolls from Ryan and passing them down to Mikey.
“And he asked Gerard on a date,” Mikey put in, looking amused. “I don’t know why you’re acting so cool right now, Gee, you were squealing over it for, like, hours.”
Gerard shot Mikey a pointed look. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up,” he said. “And plus, I don’t even know if it’s a date. We’re going to see some band play. It could just be a friend thing.”
“Except for the part where it’s totally a date,” Mikey said.
Ryan couldn’t help but smile. “That’s awesome, Gerard. You know, Spencer has a date too. With Jon.”
This time, it was Ryan who was shot with a glare. “So kind of you to tell everyone, Ryan,” Spencer muttered out of the side of his mouth.
Ryan shrugged. “It’s true love,” he whispered. “I saw Spencer looking at L.L.Bean’s monogram section.”
Spencer ignored him, but he suddenly got a smug grin on his face. “Actually, Ryan, I need you to do me a favor. Do you mind reading my shelves on Friday? I won’t be able to, you know, because of my date.”
It seemed to Ryan like Spencer was taking a different approach to this whole thing now. An approach that led to him shoving as much work of on Ryan as possible.
“Fine,” Ryan agreed, “but I better get the full gory details afterwards.”
“You can keep yours to yourself,” Mikey told Gerard. “I don’t want to hear that shit about my brother.”
---
Ryan was silently cursing Spencer as he read through the shelves. He made a mental point to inform Patrick that they were spending way too much money on nonfiction books. There was so fucking many.
He started humming to himself, the library mostly dark and empty. Everyone else had gone home - Spencer and Gerard to their respective dates, so Ryan didn’t bother to keep his voice down as he started singing.
“All you need is love, da da da ba da. All you need is love, doo do dodo do. All you need is love, love, love is all you need,” Ryan sang, pantomiming the brass instruments once in a while because, really, it’s hard not to with that song.
A chuckle sounded from behind him. “I wouldn’t expect you to be singing that song,” a voice that Ryan recognized said, and sure enough, when he turned around, Brendon was standing there.
“Yeah, well, The Beatles, you know?” Ryan muttered, straightening himself out. “Sorry, I thought I was the only one here. Spencer pawned his shelving duties off on me.”
Brendon nodded. “Yeah, I’m reading shelves too. But it was boring, and then I heard you singing, so I came up here.” He smiled. “So, I have this great idea.”
“And what’s that?” Ryan asked. He felt like he should be doing something with his hands, maybe futzing with the books on the shelf, because just standing there in front of Brendon was a little unsettling. He felt exposed, somehow.
“We should read shelves together! Like, alternate rows or something. We can do yours and then mine and keep each other company while we do it.”
Ryan didn’t know why, (well, he kind of did, but really that’s just stupid) but he didn’t want to be all alone with Brendon in the dimly lit stacks. Still, he said okay, though he was suddenly overtly aware of everything. How his hands were moving, the tiny cowlick in his hair, the pattern of Brendon’s breathing next to him…
“So, have you started that book I gave you yet?” Brendon asked, and Ryan watched as one of Brendon’s fingers glided across the spines of the books. But only for a second.
“Yeah,” Ryan answered. “I’m not that far into yet, but I like it. You’re right, there’s definitely more there than just a kid’s book.”
Brendon smiled. “I usually am, you know. Right, that is.” Ryan looked up, and suddenly Brendon looked less like himself than before, less smiley, less sure of himself. “But right now, I’m not so sure,” he said.
“About what?” Ryan asked, eyes drawn to Brendon’s lower lip where his teeth were digging in.
It was quiet, almost a whisper, but Ryan heard it. “You,” Brendon admitted.
“What about-” Ryan started, but Brendon took a step forward, bringing one of his hands off of the shelf of books to mold against Ryan’s jaw.
“This,” Brendon continued. “I’m not so sure about this. But I want to be.” His eyes searched across Ryan’s face, uncertain, but he moved even closer, and then he leaned in and kissed Ryan, their lips soft against one another, Brendon’s hand sliding just a little against the lines of Ryan’s face.
The kiss was soft and sweet, almost perfect, really, but Ryan backed up as soon as he realized what was going on.
Ryan staggered, his tongue running over his bottom lip and Brendon’s eyes were suddenly guarded and his breath was off-kilter.
“It’s not like I don’t think that you’re attractive or nice or interesting or anything,” Ryan started, trying to figure out what to say. It was difficult when his blood was pounding and his head was swirling around. “I just don’t think that you and I would be a good idea.” It was strange. His hands were almost shaking. He didn’t know why, but Brendon looked so lost and that certainly wasn’t helping anything.
“Why?” Brendon asked, voice suddenly small. “I mean, I like you and I thought you liked me too. And I won’t even try to pressure you with the romance thing or anything, I just-” He cut off. “I just like you.”
“You deserve someone better than me,” Ryan said. “You deserve a happy ending.” His voice sounded rougher than normal, but thankfully the words didn’t crack, but in his mind, Ryan could hear them break anyway.
Brendon’s mouth turned down, but his eyes softened and he took another step closer towards Ryan, running his hand through Ryan’s hair. “So do you, Ryan.”
Ryan pulled back away from the touch. Away from Brendon’s words. “I’m sorry,” he said, hating himself with every step he took back, because he did the ultimate cliché. He ran away.
---
Ryan threw down his keys when he got into his apartment and they clattered noisily against the kitchen counter. “Fuck!” he exclaimed to the quiet stillness of his place. “Shit!”
He sighed and walked over to the big comfy chair in the corner or his living room, but when he sat down, he saw the book that Brendon had given him sitting still open on the side table. “Fuck! Shit! Cock!” Ryan grumbled.
His cell phone rang. Ryan reached for it. “What?” he asked angrily into the phone.
“Jesus, Ryan, is that the way to answer a phone?” Spencer asked. His voice sounded bright and cheery. Happy. Ryan envied him, envied that Spencer allowed himself that opportunity.
“Sorry,” Ryan responded, trying to get his emotions under control. Really, this wasn’t like him at all. “Sorry, Spence, hey.”
“Better,” Spencer said.
Ryan sighed into the phone. “I suppose you’re calling to tell me about your date,” he guessed. And even before Spencer started gushing, Ryan knew that Spencer’s date had gone well, because, of course it did. It only made sense that while Ryan was scrambling to keep his perfectly manageable life from crashing down, Spencer would be up in the sky somewhere floating.
“Yes,” Spencer said, and even though it was over the phone, Ryan could hear the smile. “Jon is so sweet he’s just so-” and Ryan tuned him out.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t happy for Spencer, he was, it was just that when he heard Spencer start to talk about Jon’s eyes and hair and smile, he couldn’t help but think of someone else. Couldn’t help but think of Brendon.
Oh, goddamnit.
“And I think that we might be doing something tomorrow,” Spencer continued. “You don’t think that’s too soon, do you? Two dates in two days?”
“No, I think that it’s great,” Ryan said. “He obviously likes you, which by the way I told you from day one, and you like him.”
“Exactly,” Spencer agreed, “so why should I bullshit around?”
Spencer’s question hit Ryan hard. He swallowed. “Um, I guess you shouldn’t then. It’d just be stupid.”
“Yeah, well, good. I’m gonna let you go now, I’m sure you have to get back to reading shelves. Thanks again for that, by the way. Bye.” Spencer hung up, not even giving Ryan enough time to correct his friend and tell Spencer where he really was.
Ryan sighed to himself, a slow panic just vaguely rushing through him. The thing was, however, Ryan was used to this. He was used to fucking everything up for him. He shook his head and reached for the book, looking for a distraction. Just because Brendon gave him this book to read didn’t mean that the book made him think of Brendon or anything.
His eyes flooded over the words, and really, Ryan wasn’t usually one of those people that read into things, but at that moment, he couldn’t help but feel a connection.
“Things could change, Gabe,” Jonas went on. “Things could be different. I don’t know how, but there must be some way for things to be different. There could be colors. And grandparents,” he added, staring through the dimness toward the ceiling of his sleepingroom. “And everybody would have the memories. You know about the memories,” he whispered, turning toward the crib.
Gabriel’s breathing was even and deep. Jonas liked having him there, though he felt guilty about the secret. Each night he gave memories to Gabriel: memories of boat rides and picnics in the sun; memories of soft rainfall against windowpanes; memories of dancing barefoot on a damp lawn.
“Gabe?”
The newchild stirred slightly in his sleep. Jonas looked over at him.
“There could be love,” Jonas whispered.
And there it was. Ryan read it over and over again, eyes flicking down to the page numbers. He turned to the inside cover of the book, and sure enough, they matched with what Brendon had written down for him.
And it all…. kind of started to make sense.
---
The Children’s Library opened about an hour later than the regular library, and the employees used a different entrance since it was downstairs, so Ryan waited, rather impatiently, at the Information Desk until nine.
Spencer was sitting next to him, stupid smile on his face, and Jon leaned over the counter to talk to him.
“So, I know that the new system is up and everything,” Jon said, fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk, “but I was wondering if you could show me where a certain book is.”
Spencer was practically beaming. “And what kind of book would that be?” he asked.
Jon scratched his head. “How cliché would it be if I said love poetry?”
“Completely cliché,” Ryan said, but he smiled. “It’s also really adorable, too.”
Spencer stared at Ryan disbelievingly. “Um.” He looked at Jon. “Sure, the 811s are this way, just follow me.”
Ryan grinned after Spencer’s confused expression and stood up from the desk, since there were only ten minutes left until the Children’s Library opened. He knew that Brendon had to be in. He passed by the Circulation Desk, where Gerard was on the phone chatting happily away. Ryan could distinctly make out the name “Frank” as he started down the stairs.
Sure enough, when Ryan opened the still-closed doors to the Children’s Library, Brendon was there, straightening up shelves. As soon as the door closed behind him with a loud click, Brendon turned around, body tensing as he saw Ryan.
Brendon opened his mouth, but Ryan was faster.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He walked closer to Brendon, feeling for a second ridiculously shy and unsure. He fumbled for a moment with what to say. Brendon was looking at him expectantly, and the words “And I, uh, finished the book you gave me” just sort of tumbled out. Ryan cursed his mouth.
“Oh,” Brendon said, and his posture was still very guarded, as if he was sure that Ryan was going to blow up at him. He coughed. “You know I really have to get things straightened up, we open in like five minutes and I have a story time at 9:15, so…”
Ryan shook his head. He wasn’t doing this right. He knew he wasn’t. He was shit at these things, to be honest, but he needed to at least try. “No, please, I need to tell you something.”
Brendon sighed. “Okay, fine.” He waved his hand in the air. “You finished the book and…”
“And I get it,” Ryan said.
“Get what?”
Ryan chuckled. “It took a children’s book to let me finally get that not all love is a cliché. I’m not saying that I love you or anything,” Ryan hurried to add in, “but I, well, I mean, I-”
“Wait,” Brendon cut in. His face suddenly brightened up. “Oh! This is a good talk!”
“Well, it’s certainly not eloquent,” Ryan admitted, and he could feel his face getting red.
“Yeah, but it’s good. Like,” he took a step closer to Ryan, closing the space between them, kissing him softly. “Like that, yeah?” His face was open for Ryan to read, so trusting, so Brendon.
Ryan nodded, leaning forward to join their lips again. “That’s kind of what I was going for, yeah.”
Brendon smiled, kissing Ryan again and again and again. “This is pretty awesome,” he said, “but I really do have to get stuff ready for story time.” He pulled back slightly, but stayed in Ryan’s loose grasp.
“Well, at least I know now that it wasn’t just some excuse,” Ryan said. He kissed Brendon again. “But, um, I was thinking that maybe after work we could do dinner or something. Maybe a movie.” A date his mind screamed, but Ryan fought down the urge to throw in something stupid like ‘just something casual’ because that’s not what he wanted at all. Not anymore.
“I’d like that,” Brendon said. “A lot.” He grinned again. “But you have to go now, or I won’t get any work done.”
Ryan bit his smile down and nodded. “Okay, sure.”
He walked back up the stairs to the main library, Brendon’s cheery humming filtering through as background music and he thought that maybe Brendon was right.
Maybe he did deserve a happy ending after all.
---
Sequels to the story (of sorts) : The Aptly Named Stacks Sex Coda and
Setting Aside a Spot for You
My other stories!