#i also got a sci-fi novel a nonfiction book and a folklore collection so i have plenty of new material rn

[devilsskettle]

i think i'm finally gonna read house of leaves wish me luck

[hms-chill]

The Dewey Decimal System, and Other Love Languages

Alternate Title: Love in the Time of Midterms

Summary: A few weeks into his job at the library, a patron asks Henry where to find “the gay books”, kicking off half a semester of pining.

Henry is finishing shelving a cart of large print books when his life changes forever.

"Excuse me, hi. Do you have any gay books?" The boy asking is around Henry's age. He's short, and he's dressed casually in a polo and jeans, dress shoes and backpack categorizing him as a student at the local college. Henry's brain notes that he's attractive, though Henry refuses to acknowledge that thought.

"Of course! Fiction or nonfiction?"

"Oh. I... I guess either one? I wasn't sure I'd get to pick." Henry isn't offended that this handsome college student wouldn't think there were queer books in the library. He isn't, not in the slightest, offended that he seems to think the library is stuck in the 1940s. He refuses to let the other boy see how not offended he is, and he certainly doesn't use the excuse to show off a bit and display just how many queer books the library has.

"Alright, well, for nonfiction, you're going to want the early 300s for books on gender and sexuality. I believe it's somewhere between 303 and 307, and I want to say 306, but I've only been here a couple weeks and don't know the Dewey decimal system as well as I'd like to. I don't get to shelve much nonfic. If you're looking for fiction, we don't exactly have a queer section, but I could direct you to some that I've enjoyed or heard about."

"That would be good."

"If you like Greek mythology, Madeline Miller's A Song of Achilles is very queer. So are most of Rick Riordan's books, especially his later series. If you like travel novels or adventure books, Mackenzie Lee's The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue has a bi lead, and the sequel focuses on his aro/ace sister. If you're into fantasy or fantastic realism, Maggie Stiefvater's The Raven Cycle has queer characters, and Leigh Bardugo's Six of Crows is a heist story with a bunch of queer characters. There's also How to Fix a Mechanical Heart, Georgia Peaches and Other Forbidden Fruit, and Kiss Number 8 in YA, though I haven't read those. In sci-fi, I haven't gotten around to them, but the Welcome to Night Vale novels under Fink would almost certainly have queer representation. The main character of the podcast is gay. He wrote an Alice Isn't Dead novel, too, and that podcast is about a woman looking for her wife, so I can't imagine the book would be... Sorry; this is probably more than you want." The other boy is typing furiously on his phone, brow furrowed just a bit as he tries to get everything down. The way his tongue pokes out the side of his mouth most certainly isn't the cutest thing Henry has seen all day. He has a dog, after all. David is, objectively, much cuter than a handsome boy seriously taking notes on queer fiction that Henry likes.

"This is good. It's perfect. Thank you," the boy says, still looking at his phone. He looks up a moment later, suddenly quieter, to ask, "Um, another question; do you have any books on mental health?"

"Mid or late 100s I think. They're before mythology in the 200s, but I'm not entirely sure where, sorry."

"No, don't be sorry. You're new. That's perfect. Thank you. Have a nice ga-- day. Have a nice day."

"You, too. If you need anything else, I'm working until six, and I spend a lot of time shelving in the kids room. I'd be happy to help."

"Okay. Yeah, thanks. Have a good one." With that, the boy turns to leave, and Henry finishes shelving his cart, trying to forget the other boy's smile and the way he'd furiously typed every book Henry recommended. He tries to forget the other boy's hesitation to ask about mental health books, the endearing shyness that most definitely did not tug at Henry's heartstrings. After all, there really isn't a point pining over a patron he'll never see again.

-

As it turns out, Henry does see the patron again. He's back a few days later, and Henry looks up just in time to see him dump a massive stack of books into the return slot. He smiles at Henry, making a beeline over to where he's shelving.

"Hi again, um, do you have any cookbooks?"

"Upstairs; 641."

"What the fuck. Hod do you do that?"

"We have a lot of cookbooks, and they're popular. I reshelve them a lot." It's really not that impressive of a thing to know. Some of Henry's coworkers know the Dewey decimal system forwards and backwards, but the other boy is looking at him like he's just done something incredible."

"What else do you have memorized?"

"Um, let's see. World War II is in the 940s. Current politics are in the 900s; The Meuller Report is in the 990s I think. I shelved that a lot. Mythology is in the 200s, folklore and fairy tales and stuff the late 300s. UFOs, cryptids, that kind of thing in the 90s, and computer stuff before that. Hobbies are in the 690s or 790s. Animals are 590s; sharks in particular are... 597? No. 587. I think. Airplanes 626. 808 is short stories, poems are after that and then by 811 you're into plays. Workout and health stuff is before cookbooks, so 639 or 640. Queer and gender stuff 306. Biography 900s is princess books, and 400s are foreign language. Travel is the late 800s or early 900s I think; they're in the back somewhere."

"That's incredible. I thought you said you were new. How long have you been here?" He's so impressed, and Henry isn't sure he's ever felt so proud of something so simple. The fact that this random patron is one of two people in the city to actually compliment him recently certainly doesn't help with the crush he's working hard not to develop.

"About three weeks."

"Holy sh-- cow. You're so smart. How are you this smart?"

Henry feels his face start to go red. "It's just one of those things you pick up."

"Still, it's incredible."

"Thank you. But you needed a cookbook? Any type in particular? We have a pretty large collection, so I can show you the online catalog if you want. It can give you more exact information than I can."

"Yeah, but if you teach me to use the catalogue, I won't have an excuse to come bother you." He winks, leaning against a shelf, and he really doesn't have any business looking so carefree and handsome. He came here to check things out, not get checked out. Not that Henry is doing any checking out.

"Well, I wouldn't mind if you still come bother me. It's a nice break from the monotony. The catalogue could just help for when I'm wrong or not here."

"Alright, fine. I'm not sure how much help a search is going to be, though. I doubt there's a book called What to Make When You Invite Your Family to Your College Apartment to Tell Them You're Bi." He freezes for a second, and Henry knows all too well the sudden nerves, the tense moment of waiting for a reaction.

"If you find one, let me know. I'm sure I could adapt it for being gay," he says, and the other boy relaxes. When he looks up, his smile is back, and he follows Henry to a computer catalogue.

He comes down from the cookbook section nearly an hour later, three cookbooks in his arms. He's headed for the checkout, but he turns when he sees Henry with an empty cart.

"Hey, hi. I, um, well, I found a rainbow cookbook. I'll have to change the colors and things, but I thought maybe I could do something from that? Like a layer cake with a pride flag or something? I mean, I know they'll be okay with it. At least I think they will. My... my dad's pretty catholic, but we have a family friend who's gay and my dad's done a ton to look after and fight for him. We all love him. And my best friend is bi, and they've practically adopted her so it should be okay. I don't... I don't think it'll go badly, but... sorry. This isn't part of your job."

"I don't mind. You're making a cake with a pride flag; what else are you going to make? Would it help to talk it through?"

"Sure. Yeah. I'm thinking elote, since we made that a lot growing up, and one of these has a recipe for doing it on a stovetop instead of a grill. And then I was thinking ribs, but I don't have a grill, so I thought instead I'd make some pulled pork? It's got that barbecue thing that'll go well with the elote, and it's really easy to make a lot, so I can just tell everyone at once and get it over with. And if there's extra I can freeze it."

"I think it sounds good, and it sounds like they'll be happy to support you. I can tell they mean a lot to you; you're lucky to have them. You'll have to let me know how it goes if we bump into each other again."

"I will, yeah. Thank you. You've been wonderful."

"Good luck."

The other boy smiles and goes to check out, and Henry takes his cart back to the staff room, hoping he'll get an update soon.

-

On Monday, the other boy is back, and he comes up to Henry with a giant grin.

"It went well! It was so good. My mom got a bunch of brochures about staying safe, which was awkward but it's how she shows love, and my dad didn't care, and my sister won't stop trying to get me to join tinder so she can set me up with someone. They... they love me, and they don't care that I'm bi. It doesn't matter."

Henry grins. "I'm so happy for you. That's huge."

"Thank you so much for everything. Seriously, talking to you helped a lot."

"It was the least I could do."

"No, it-- I'm trying to say thank you; just let me."

"Alright."

"Thank you for letting me talk to you about coming out. Was that so hard? You're more important to people than you give yourself credit for. Anyway, I've got to run to a thing, but I wanted to stop in and see you. And update you. And thank you. You helped."

He's gone before Henry can respond, but he's surprised to realize he can't stop smiling for the rest of his shift.

-

Over the next few weeks, Henry sees and hears a lot of the things that happen in the library. He hears a little boy complain that there's loud noises in the library, and he hears the woman with that little boy explain that by yelling, he is the loud noise in the library. Henry sees a little girl falling asleep on a parent's lap as they read to her. He sees the handsome boy from before help a fourth grader through her math homework in a tutoring session and hears him talking to a little boy about Nancy Drew. He doesn't see everything, though. He doesn't see the mystery patron re-shelve some of the books that are out of order, making Henry's job easier. He doesn't hear the other boy call his sister on his way out to gush about the cute librarian he just saw teach a mom how to find Percy Jackson books so she could teach her son. What he does get used to seeing, though, is the same cute boy, settled at a table that Henry walks past regularly.

By the time midterms roll around, Henry's gotten used to seeing the other boy in the library. On the first day of midterms week, he's already there when Henry's shift starts. Henry, who has three essays due soon and only one started, plans to stay in the library when he gets off work. If he can't find any open tables, well, it must be due to midterms. He certainly didn't avoid looking in a few less popular places in order to justify going up to the table where his mystery patron is sitting. The other boy looks up with a smile.

"Do you mind if I sit? It's full everywhere else. I swear I'll be quiet; I've just got to draft an essay."

"Not at all. Here; let me slide some stuff over. What's your essay on?"

"Identity and fluidity in Virginia Woolf's Orlando. What are you working on?"

"A study guide for the politics of international economics."

"Sounds thrilling."

"What are you writing on? A book about Florida?" and god, Henry has to fight not to laugh just a bit.

"A book about Virginia Woolf's girlfriend."

"No way. Wasn't she like... old?"

"The 1920s aren't that old; we have examples of queer folks going back to the 400s BCE. Sappho's poetry would be in either the 200s or 808 if we have any, and tons of queer folks from Julie d'Aubigny to Alexander Hamilton are in biographies."

"Maybe later. Tell me about your essay; I can't study anymore."

"Okay, so, this book is a fake biography of a person named Orlando who, halfway through, changes from a man to a woman. I'm arguing that by using water to symbolize major change, Woolf signals to readers that their sex change isn't actually a big deal in their identity. Basically, every time Orlando gets a new opportunity or something else major happens, there's water involved somehow. But when their sex changes, which at first glance is the most drastic thing that happens to them, there's no water anywhere. In fact, there's fire, and that fire is mentioned a few different times. So I'm arguing that this shows readers that gender doesn't actually have that much impact on who someone is, but it's instead just how we present to the world. Therefore, it shouldn't matter if Virginia's in love with a woman, because Vita's just another human, and this whole thing is just a massive love letter to Vita and also a screw you to everyone else, because they all knew it was about Vita and Virginia didn't care."

"Wait, people knew? People knew they were lesbians."

"Well, they were probably both bi, and Virginia was probably demi-romantic, but it's not fair to put labels on them because all of those terms are more modern than these women. But yes, people knew they were dating. Vita's mom complained that Virginia stole her daughter."

"That's incredible,"

"Portrait of a Marriage by Nigel nicholson, Vita's son, is probably upstairs in biographies. Chapter five especially goes into detail on their open relationships."

The other boy laughs at that, throwing his whole body back as he does. He has the weight of five midterms on his shoulders, but for the duration of that laugh, he is happy and free and light as a feather.

"You're amazing. I'll let you write your essay, but just know. You're incredible."

Henry pulls out his laptop and opens the file for his essay, but it's a good five minutes before he can start to actually write anything. When he's finished, he nearly asks the other boy to get dinner with him. He doesn't; he can't. He's not confident enough. Instead, he just wishes the other boy good luck on his test as he says goodbye.

-

When Henry gets to work on Wednesday, it doesn't look like his patron has moved. When Henry gets a bit of a break, he texts Pez, who responds immediately with a series of emojis. The man is an enigma, but fifteen minutes later, he's arrived with two of the cookies Henry made them the night before. Henry takes them to the table where his favorite patron sits, the eye of a storm of notes, highlighters, empty coffee cups, and granola bar wrappers.

"Hello. Sorry to bother you, but you look like you could use these," Henry says, setting the cookies on the table as he passes.

"What... thank you! Thanks."

Henry is gone before the other boy can say more, his face going red. He doesn't see the little smile that spreads across the other boy's face or the way his whole body relaxes as he bites into the first cookie. When he passes the table again, though, he does see an empty bag and a somewhat refreshed patron.

-

As midterms pass and life settles down a bit, the table where his patron sits starts to be empty occasionally. Henry tries not to miss the boy who used to sit there, surrounded by clutter and wearing adorable glasses. He must have other things happening, a life outside of class work and study sessions. Still, it's a bright spot in Henry's day to see the familiar backpack in a chair, even without his patron at the table.

He finds his patron a few minutes later, or more accurately, his patron finds him.

"Excuse me, hi. Do you happen to have any books about how to ask out the hot librarian who's super smart and puts up with my constant nagging and helped me come out to my family and brought me cookies during midterms?"

Henry freezes, then says, "If we did, I would assume the first suggestion would be to tell this person your name." He's doing his best to stay calm, but the other boy isn't making it easy. He's leaning against a bookshelf, casually, like asking to date another boy in a public place is the easiest thing in the world.

"Did I not... fuck, I-- I'm Alex. Alexander Claremont-Diaz. Sorry. Shit. Yours is on your nametag and I just kinda assumed we... sorry."

"Alex, it's nice to meet you. I'm Henry. Back to your question, if we had such a book, I would assume it would also suggest waiting until the person you want to ask out is off work. But, when he's not on the clock and can be his own person, you shouldn't have any problem. You're smart, and you're nice, and you're good looking."

"You think?"

"I do. And you didn't ask, but I get off at six, and I don't have dinner plans."

With that, Henry finishes sorting his cart and walks away to shelve it, leaving Alexander Claremont-Diaz, mystery patron, grinning behind him.

On AO3

Notes: 

To my knowledge as someone who's worked at a library for a month, the Dewey decimal numbers in this are accurate. 306 is definitely gay books, and that'll be the case at any library that uses this system. Also, the fiction books mentioned are all real and queer. Especially Orlando. - Speaking of Orlando, read it! It's so good! I'm working on the play (adapted by Sarah Ruhl, who's incredible) and I'm in love with it.