Silent Library
“Grrrr…Fucking Mrs Hudson! She and her fucking literature lessons, she and her fucking books…” Patrick murmurs venomously, kicking the gravel path that leads to the library.
Entering the fresh premises of the library is a bit rejuvenating, compared to the hot air of a July afternoon, but that’s not enough to comfort Patrick, who’s stuck at school for the summer additional classes. Mrs Hudson hates him, Patrick is sure of that, she has never helped him nor rewarded his efforts for trying to be good in her subject.
Shuffling moodily to the Literature section, Patrick keeps cursing his teacher and plotting revenge against her; he swears he’ll be able to get a good mark and he’ll shove it up her skinny ass.
A… Alcott… A…A…Beckett …where the hell is Austen?
Patrick can’t hold a distressed and quite loud cry back, earning some ‘shhh’s from a few customers.
This is definitely not his lucky period.
On the verge of a nervous breakdown, Patrick heads straight to the help desk, apparently deserted.
‘Fuck!’, he hisses, punching the wooden surface.
“Sorry, I’m coming!” a muffled voice comes from under the desk, before someone emerges.
Jet black hair.
Black rimmed glasses.
Tight light green polo shirt.
Tanned and tattooed arms.
“Can I help you?” a smiley, young, hot librarian asks kindly.
The day is getting better.
Patrick’s brows shoot under the brim of his trucker hat. His face is priceless: he looks like a goldfish, with his open mouth and the face redder than the t-shirt he’s wearing.
The librarian cocks his head to the side, still smiling sweetly.
“I…I just n-need…err…Jane Austen?” Patrick stutters, not looking directly at the other guy; his eyes land on the nametag attached on the t-shirt, the one that tells you can ‘Ask Pete’.
“Okay, what book?” Pete asks, professionally lingering his fingers on the keyboard, ready to check on computer the long list of books available.
“Ehm…” Patrick fishes a small doodled piece of paper, reading out loud, “’Pride and prejudice’…”
“Perfect, let’s see…” Pete types fast, focusing on the computer screen. “Whoa, man, you’re lucky: we rented, like, all the copies we have, and only one is available!” the guy says, widening his brown eyes behind those dorky but sexy glasses.
“B-but I already checked and there isn’t any book there,” Patrick replies, pointing a finger in the general direction of the Literature section.
“What? Really?” Pete is a bit taken aback, “Weird…maybe the latest reader didn’t put it away or something…” he says pensively. Patrick nods slowly.
“Well, let’s go hunting!” Pete says chipper, coming out from behind the desk, sticking a hand out at Patrick, “I’m Pete, by the way…”
The younger male shakes hands, blushing madly, “Patrick,” he whispers. Pete smiles wider and leads the student to the Literature section.
***
They walk down the aisles in a comfortable silence, checking books after books. Patrick is more checking the librarian, who’s a few steps ahead: the boy is already feeling hard just looking at those shoulders, the slim figure, the hips, oh my. Hey, did somebody turn the heat on?
Pete sees a book that may be “Pride and prejudice” and takes it out of the shelf, but it’s not the right book; trying to put it back, he makes the book fall.
‘Shit,’ he curses in a whisper, bending down to pick the book up.
Patrick almost explodes.
The t-shirt has ridden up a bit, showing more tanned skin.
The soft curve of that ass is so freaking inviting.
Pete turns with a shy smile, mouthing a sorry before going further down the aisle, looking for the damned book. Where the hell did that ignorant customer put it?
You can cook a egg on Patrick’s face, flushed red and hot is he. Luckily Pete didn’t notice… shit, he must hide his hard-on, but his thin t-shirt is not even enough and walking aisle after aisle doesn’t help, with the friction and all...
Pete stops dead in his tracks at the end of the umpteenth aisle, turning his head to talk to Patrick.
“Maybe the book is in the archive…Wanna check there?”
The boy nods quickly, looking at the floor, hands crossed in an attempt to hide his bulging crotch.
“Follow me,” Pete invites gently with a jerk of his head in the direction of the archive.
***
The light flicks on. Welcome in the dusty archive.
Patrick looks around: tons of carts full of books, parked close to precarious piles of more books, some papers here and there and the legendary dust balls of many Ol’ Far West movies. He’s not too keen on putting his backpack on the floor, but he does so anyway.
Pete scratches his head a bit ashamed, “Erm…the library is kinda big, there aren’t many of us working here and…that’s the result, hehe…”
Patrick can’t help but chuckle and Pete grins back.
“Okay, now we seriously need to find that damned book…let’s rummage in that cart first,” Pete suggests, “there should be the latest returned books.”
After working together for a while, doing some small talk to pass the time, the guys ascertain there’s no sign of the book; they sit on the floor, frustrated: they turned three whole carts inside out with no luck.
“Fuck,” Patrick exclaims. If it wasn’t for that bitch of his teacher…
“I’m sorry…” Pete says in a genuinely sad voice.
“Oh, no, don’t be!” Patrick exclaims, turning sharply to him, lingering a hand on the other guy’s arm, “It’s all my teacher’s fault! …She and her boring books…” he mutters quickly.
Pete cracks a bit with a quick laugh, “Is it just my impression or you hate her, uh?”
Patrick snickers bitterly, “Yeah, pretty much…” he replies, shaking his head resigned.
The librarian smiles, leaning his head on Patrick’s shoulder, glasses slightly crooked, rubbing the other’s hand absentmindedly. The boy risks to hyperventilate.
“You know,” Pete says after a long silence, “I’m kinda glad the book your teacher told you to read is missing…” The librarian sits straighter, moving his hand up Patrick’s arm, finally reaching the pale skin of the neck. The boy shivers under the soft touch of Pete’s hand and his heavy stare; every attempt to hide his hardening erection is futile.
Pete looks directly in Patrick’s eyes, then at his inviting lips and finally gives in; the boy doesn’t fight back when he sees Pete’s face getting closer to his, he can’t take his eyes off the coffee ones of the librarian, his soft lips fit perfectly on his own.
They make out lazily, stroking each other’s arms and sides. Pete breaks contact first to sit on Patrick’s lap and straddle him, to kiss him some more while taking both their tees off; Patrick is too self conscious of his own round tummy, he almost doesn’t enjoy the sight in front of him: the librarian’s skin is naturally tanned, the slim figure is eye-catching, the swirls of the tattoos add something more to the whole beauty.
Patrick can’t take his eyes off the bat tattoo right under the belly button, its tail grazing the dark hairs that continue under the waistband of the tightightight pants Pete is wearing; like hypnotized, the boy lingers a finger on the tattoo, tracing the outlines of the bat with a skull and a heart in the middle. Pete breathes in sharply, shuddering at the gentle touch, then unbuckles their belts and pants.
***
The guys are lying on the floor, Patrick with his head pillowed on Pete’s chest while the librarian runs a hand through his soft and thin reddish hair.
“Well,” Pete starts tentatively.
“Well,” Patrick repeats.
The dark haired guy looks intently at the light green eyes of the boy.
“Better redressing and continue looking for your book,” he suggests, sitting straighter. Then, while stretching to grab his polo that ended under one of the carts during their furious undressing, he spots something.
“I think you’re going to kill me…” Pete suddenly says.
“Uh?” Patrick can’t articulate a more meaningful reply.
Pete returns in a sitting position with something else in hand, apart from his shirt: a book.
“Here is Pride and prejudice…it has always been here, only under the cart…” the librarian states with a grin.
“And the first one we checked! Oh my god,” Patrick concludes laughing hysterically, Pete joining in.
When they calm down, they look at each other.
“It wasn’t that futile…this research, I mean…” Patrick says timidly, not looking directly in Pete’s eyes.
The librarian smiles, “Definitely not,” he agrees, pecking the boy’s lips before standing up.
***
Back at the front desk, Patrick is finally able to check that damned book on his account.
“Here’s the date to return the book,” Pete instructs while inserting a card of the library in the book, “and here is my phone number,” he adds lowering his voice, slipping another piece of paper in Patrick’s hand.
The boy blushes profusely before beaming at Pete, mouthing a “call you” before turning on his heels and leaving the library.
With the book in his hand, Patrick thinks he should thank Mrs Hudson.…
Nah, fuck her.