Chapter Text
Cellbit nibbled at his nails anxiously, cellphone watching him in silent mockery atop of the kitchen table where he’d left it almost an hour ago. It was late noon and he’d only had a cup of coffee to soothe his nerves… It hadn’t been too effective.
A couple of days had passed since his encounter with Roier and Cellbit was —for lack of better words— a rampant mess.
He had tried to make the first move… Really! Yet every time he attempted to call, his anxiety made him rethink all of his life choices and he’d delay it over and over.
But today was different. He had decided enough was enough, he had to suck it up and—
MAKE THE DAMN CALL, his inner voice impatiently echoed for what felt like the hundredth time in two days.
“I will, I will, just give me a fucking break,” he grumbled to no one, to himself, to the evil device sitting almost innocent on the table.
He eventually did pick up the phone.
After an hour. And another cup of coffee. And cleaning the kitchen sink because it was never a bad time to clean the kitchen sink, of course, it got all greasy and stinky and… and…
Shut up.
Palms sweaty and a little shaky, he psyched himself up for the deed. Roier did seem to like him, didn’t he? Otherwise, he wouldn’t have given Cellbit his number or even flirted with him in the first place… Right? Right?!
Right.
He stared at the bold numbers on the screen for another ten minutes, finger hovering over the call button and heart racing with anticipation. He took in a big breath.
“Oh, fuck it.”
He pressed the button.
In retrospect, he should’ve realized way, WAY sooner.
And now that he thought about it, face down on the bed and mortified, Roier had probably picked up the call just to mess with him —the mischievous, charming little shit.
He groaned and slumped his head against his pillow.
Roier was deaf. And Cellbit had called a deaf person. Not even video call, oh no, he had to go the extra mile and be the jerk of the year.
Roier had been all giggly on the other end of the line, almost as if he had been expecting the slip-up —or worse, was used to it— and had only replied with:
“Cellbit? The line’s a little quiet, maybe you need to speak louder.”
And with that, Cellbit had abruptly ended the call, the sound of Roier's amused laughter still ringing in his ears. He had redacted a two paragraph apology that he immediately sent through text and then had retreated to his room to wallow in his misery like a moody teenager.
Well, he guessed that was the end of his romantic endeavors. Permanently, since he didn’t plan on leaving his house ever again after securing his spot as the reigning champion of global humiliation.
He felt his phone vibrate somewhere on the bed. It was the fifth or sixth time since The Call™, but he hadn’t had the guts to check.
He only knew it was Roier because no one texted him that much —or at all for that matter—, yet he couldn't bear to face his disappointment. Cellbit would understand if the librarian refused his apology, but that wouldn’t make his heartbreak less devastating.
He finally relented on the seventh buzz and dragged his hand over the rumpled sheets until he reached his phone, deciding he should end the agony sooner than later. He opened Roier’s chat with cold fingers, a lump in his throat, and read the first message:
Roier: big L you took there lol
Cellbit frowned. What?
Roier: wasn’t expecting the silent treatment on our first call lmao
Roier: get it?
Roier: cuz im deaf?
Roier: xD
Roier: cellbit?
Cellbit’s brain struggled to process the words.
Was… Was Roier joking? He blinked, confused, his eyes drifting towards the last message, a much longer one:
Roier: hey, idk if you’re upset but please don’t be. i’m not mad or offended, i promise. it happens all the time so don’t even worry about it haha. i’d really like to talk to you again, if you’re still up for it... maybe let’s try a video call next time tho? :P
Cellbit's heart skipped a beat.
Roier wasn’t mad at him? In fact, he was… comforting him?
Warmth spread through Cellbit's chest, tinged with a hint of shame. Not only had he called a deaf guy but said deaf guy was trying to make him feel better?
He laughed, a mix of relief and disbelief and hysteria bubbling up inside him, and tried to reply, deleting and rewriting many times until he decided it was futile. He felt a simple text was too cold, too disingenuous.
With newfound resolve, he sat up on the bed, his mind made up. He needed to see Roier in person and make things right.
He sprang from the bed, only to pause when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He winced at his messy hair and dark eye-bags.
Maybe after a quick shower.
And another coffee.
Cellbit found himself drawn back to the library like a moth to a flame, the sunset his warm companion as he made his way through the island. He was holding a handful of some sort of pink flowers he’d spotted on the side of the stone road, the color so pretty they deserved an equally beautiful owner.
What? He was a romantic at heart, sue him.
The library was almost empty when he crossed the heavy wooden doors, tiny specks of dust dancing in the sunrays filtering through the window. It was so quiet Cellbit could hear his own heart beating against his chest.
“Amaranth?”
Cellbit yelped, his soul nearly leaping out of his body. His sweaty palms almost dropped the crafty bouquet as he turned around to face the familiar voice.
“Undying, everlasting love,” Roier said, standing before him in all his charming glory.
He was wearing his work vest open, a nice red shirt hugging his chest in all the right places, and carrying a bunch of books which seemed to accentuate his strong arms.
Chestnut hair stylishly messy, long lashes over bright eyes and a dimpled smile… Cellbit couldn’t stop staring.
“I- I’m sorry, what?” Cellbit did not stutter.
Roier chuckled in that raspy, whispery voice of his and closed the distance between them to nod intently at the bouquet Cellbit was holding.
“The flowers,” he said with an amused smirk. “They are amaranth, it is said they symbolize everlasting love” He tilted his head and stared into Cellbit’s eyes, bold as always. “I say it’s a bunch of fairy tales, though.”
Cellbit stood there, mouth agape and a little overwhelmed. For a witty writer, he seemed to be at a loss for words every time the librarian was near.
Roier seemed to find his stunned silence even funnier.
“Waiting for someone?” He said almost too casually, but Cellbit could hear the genuine curiosity in his tone.
“Uh… Yes— I mean no!” Cellbit blurted, clumsily extending the bouquet towards Roier. “These are for you!” He said with an awkward smile, inwardly cringing at his lameness.
“For me?” Roier’s lips quirked up, his chocolate eyes glittering with surprise.
“Yes?” he replied, although it came out breathy and more like a question. He cleared his throat. “Yes,” he repeated more firmly, his arms were starting to feel numb from holding the bouquet up so long.
“Only if you like them, of course,” he quickly added, starting to spiral. “I picked them up on the way here because I wanted to apologize and I thought you’d like them— Not that you have to feel pressured in any way, fuck, I’m sorry about that too—”
Roier laughed heartily and shook his head, his brow slightly furrowed in confusion. Cellbit marveled at how easily he could read Roier’s every expression; he was like an open book —no pun intended— and that drew Cellbit in like a sailor to a siren’s song.
“Easy there, Cellbo, I can’t keep up if you talk that fast.”
Ignoring the flutter in his heart at the nickname, Cellbit groaned in frustration.
“Oh my god, I keep fucking up, don’t I?” he chuckled as he lowered the bouquet to his side, feeling a little defeated as he struggled to find the right words. “I’m sorry, really. For everything. I’m the biggest dick on earth.”
“Well that’s one interesting statement. We’ll definitely need to revisit that later,” Roier teased, prompting a snort from Cellbit. “But it’s okay, I promise. And to be honest, the flower thing is a first for me so consider me thoroughly charmed.”
He winked and Cellbit sighed with relief, feeling his face flush. Roier was just as magnetic as he remembered, and he couldn’t help but feel like a clumsy teenager around him.
“I was actually wondering if you’d like to—” his words were cut short by a customer entering the library, an old lady that made a beeline for Roier, not even bothering to acknowledge Cellbit’s presence at all.
Rude.
Roier immediately switched into librarian mode, offering a polite smile to the grandma and addressing her by name, with only a fleeting apologetic glance in Cellbit’s direction.
“I get off in an hour,” Roier managed to say before getting dragged towards one of the many bookshelves.
Cellbit smiled triumphantly, feeling elated as he went towards the back of the library where a few small tables were nestled next to the windows.
After an hour of pretend-reading since all he could manage to do was steal glances at his newfound crush —sometimes even getting caught—, Roier approached his table, the vest now gone and replaced by a spider-man hoodie.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” Roier said with a sheepish smile, signing along now that his hands were free.
“Nah, no worries,” Cellbit replied with feigned nonchalance. “I was totally into this baby right here,” he had picked a random volume from one of the shelves and yes, he hadn’t looked at a single page.
“I had no idea you were not only an amateur florist but also an expert upside-down reader,” Roier remarked, barely containing a grin, raising an eyebrow and pointing at the book Cellbit was holding open the wrong way.
With an exaggerated eye-roll, Cellbit pushed himself up from his seat, abandoning the book on the table. Snatching up the bouquet, he casually leaned against the table and held up the flowers in the space between them, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Let’s just say I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he said.
Roier’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline at Cellbit’s sudden flirty demeanor.
“Okay, Houdini,” he said with a snort and stepped closer, taking the bouquet in his hands and bowing his head to smell the amaranth, humming contentedly.
Cellbit watched, transfixed, as Roier closed his eyes, savoring the sweet scent of the flowers. Once again, he couldn’t help but notice just how long Roier’s lashes were. He wondered how’d they feel to the touch, against his cheek, against his lip—
Cellbit dismissed the intrusive thoughts with a shake of his head and coughed lightly before gently tapping Roier's hand to capture his attention.
“Coffee?” He asked, voice a little wobbly.
The sun had nothing on the smile he got from Roier then, warm and blinding.
“Seems like you can read minds too.”
And off they went.
It became something regular then, their dates.
And if you were to ask Cellbit, he’d say they were nothing short of adorable, filled with awkward laughter and shy glances exchanged over cups of coffee and the occasional sweet snack.
It had become their routine over the past two weeks: Cellbit would visit Roier at the library and he’d wait around at his usual table until the end of Roier’s shift so they could go for a walk or some coffee.
Cellbit couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in Roier's demeanor as the days went by —the underlying shyness that belied his initial boldness. When their hands brushed accidentally as they walked or Cellbit made an especially flirty remark, Roier would blush or stutter, always masked by a chuckle. It was endearing, in a way that made Cellbit's heart flutter with affection.
He was so enchanted by his librarian boy that he couldn’t even sleep at night, his mind consumed by thoughts he couldn't seem to get out of his head.
Did Roier like him as much as Cellbit liked him? Was he getting bored of their coffee dates? Should he take the next step, or was it too soon?
And then there were the less romantic thoughts, the ones that kept him up at night for entirely different reasons.
Why was Roier working at a public library? Why was he the only human Federation worker he’d seen on the island? Why did no one else seem to find it sketchy?
Cellbit had tried to broach the topic many times, his curiosity getting the better of him, but each time, Roier would smile or crack a joke, and his mind would turn to putty.
He was weak and in love, and he regretted nothing.
Roier had made such a positive impact on his life that Cellbit had found the motivation to start writing again. He would even take his notebook to the library to work on his newest novel while he waited for him, many times brushing off Roier’s inquiries about it.
Truth be told, he had a knack for horror and that was usually his area of comfort when starting a new project. But call him cliché, one day he woke up and felt his fingers itch with the desire to write something different, something cheesy and romantic that would make readers swoon (or at least his publicist was, with the news he’d been writing again).
And he couldn’t deny that a certain smile and brazen brown eyes came to his mind every time he poured his heart onto the page.
Of course, he couldn’t tell Roier any of this yet, at least not without scaring the boy away. So he'd change the topic with a silly joke every time Roier asked what he was writing about.
It was a Friday when he finally decided to take a leap.
It was already way past his usual time to get to the library, but he had been busy making the proper arrangements for a different kind of day.
He’d woken up early that morning, light on his feet and in a bright mood, to clean his place and run to the grocery store to get some ingredients.
He wanted to invite Roier over for dinner that day and after an intense 30 minutes of scrolling through recipes on TikTok —shut up—, he came to the conclusion a good ol’ pasta dish was the safest and easiest to not fuck up.
By the time he was running out the door to get to the library, his house was warm, clean and dimly lit by a few aromatic candles he’d picked up from the store.
Roier was stepping out of the library looking down at his phone, when Cellbit arrived, out of breath and a little sweaty.
He tapped on Roier’s shoulder and watched as the boy’s face lit up.
“I thought you weren’t coming today,” he mouthed and signed, and Cellbit’s heart almost exploded from the clear disappointment in his expression.
Roier had been waiting for him. Roier wanted to see him.
“Sorry I didn’t text,” he rushed to say, gently holding one of the librarian’s hands. Roier looked down at the touch and up again when Cellbit squeezed his fingers lightly. “I was thinking we could do something different today… If you’re up for it.”
Cellbit gulped and watched anxiously as Roier took in his words, a tilt to his head as he mulled over the answer.
“As long as there’s food and you, I’m down for anything,” he said playfully, that rare shy look in his eyes that Cellbit adored. “I’m actually starving.”
Cellbit chuckled and led him down the road in the direction of his house, their hands still linked between them since neither seemed to want to let go just yet.
“I can help with that,” he said, facing Roier so he could read his lips.
“Where are you taking me? Is this a kidnapping?” Roier cackled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Oh, don’t tempt me,” he played along, “I’ll take you to my castle and keep you in the highest tower so only I can have you.”
Roier’s laughter grew louder, shaking his head.
“You are so cheesy,” he wrinkled his nose, making a gagging noise, and bumped his shoulder against Cellbit’s.
“How did you guess my middle name?” he replied nonchalantly, getting another earthy laugh from Roier that made his heart swell with warmth.
They arrived at his house sooner than expected, and Cellbit discreetly let go of Roier’s hand since he was starting to get sweaty from the nerves.
He watched as Roier took in his modest home, all cool tones and paintings adorning the walls, his book collection dominating the entirety of the far back wall. It was warm and carried a delightful scent thanks to the candles Cellbit had lit before leaving.
It wasn’t much but for Cellbit’s solitary soul it was more than enough.
Of course, that’s what he thought right before Roier came over. Now he watched anxiously as the librarian stepped into his home, going straight —shocker— to the bookshelf in the back.
Roier ran a finger over a few of the volumes, scrutinizing them with critical eyes, Cellbit following close behind.
“So? Is it librarian-approved?” he said after tapping Roier’s shoulder to get his attention.
Roier took his time to answer, clearly teasing.
“It’s fine, I suppose,” he said after a moment, “for an amateur,” he coughed.
Cellbit placed a hand over his chest dramatically, feigning offense.
“Excuse me? I am a writer!”
“Hey, don’t blame the player, blame the game,” he shrugged, lifting both hands defensively.
“I don’t think that applies at all in this situation,” Cellbit shook his head, smile burned onto his face although he was supposed to be acting offended.
Roier was still giggling even after Cellbit gave him a small tour around his house and they ended up in the kitchen, ready to get their hands on the dinner.
They made small talk as they worked side by side, Roier too focused on chopping veggies to follow any train of conversation. Cellbit had burned his hands on the stove more than once for stealing glances at Roier a little too long… He was guiltily relieved Roier couldn’t hear his yelps every time it happened, it was embarrassing enough.
He did hear Roier’s yelp when he nipped his finger with the knife, though. He ran over, fussing over his hand and getting it under water while Roier laughed and called him dramatic.
“What if you bleed out in my house and I become a murder suspect?” he mumbled as he put a bandaid he’d rushed to grab from the aid kit on the tiny cut, his hands shaking slightly like every time they were in close contact.
“I think you’ve read too many detective stories,” Roier teased, and when Cellbit looked up to answer he found two brown eyes closer than he expected.
Roier blinked and his mouth parted, suddenly aware of their proximity, and Cellbit couldn’t help the way his eyes lingered on his lips.
What if…?
The sound of water bubbling over the pot broke the moment and he missed Roier’s shaky breath as he swore and quickly turned the fire down before putting the pasta in.
Pink on the cheeks and hearts beating faster, they both went on with the cooking as if nothing had happened but secretly wishing it did.
Once dinner was done, they settled on the sofa, cozy blankets over their laps and a warm plate of homemade pasta, and they put on a movie as they ate.
It was one of those terrible, low-budget horror films, this one about a killer sofa, but Roier had insisted they watch it, swearing Cellbit would love it.
He hated it.
But in the funny way. In the my-tummy-hurts-from-laughing way. It had a terrible plot and terrible acting and Roier laughed so damn much and Cellbit absolutely loved it.
So technically, Roier had been right.
At some point they had completely forewent the movie in favor of talking to each other, started by Cellbit asking how to say “killer sofa” in sign language and escalating to more and more ridiculous words that had Roier in a fit of laughter.
“So, I’m curious,” Cellbit said as the credits rolled on the screen, Roier nibbling on the leftover popcorn they had microwaved on a whim mid movie. “How did you end up working at a library?”
He tried his best to school his expression, he didn’t want Roier to know this was the question that had been driving him insane since he had met the boy.
“I like the quiet,” Roier said with a shrug, grinning, and Cellbit rolled his eyes at the pun.
“Very funny,” he grabbed a single popcorn and tossed it towards Roier who caught it with his mouth and grinned wider. Cellbit did not find that devastatingly attractive.
“I’m serious,” Cellbit continued a little flustered, poking at his hand resting between them. “All I see are those bears in every corner, why are you the exception?”
“Oh, you mean it,” Roier said once he noticed Cellbit’s intense stare. He scratched his neck and winced. “It might not be the mysterious, thrilling story you expected… It’s actually kind of embarrassing.”
Cellbit watched as Roier’s cheeks and neck turned pink and he willed himself to not get distracted by the adorable sight.
“Embarrassing?” Cellbit found the choice of words odd and a tad confusing. It certainly didn’t line up with the theories he had been pondering the past few weeks.
Roier cleared his throat and fidgeted anxiously and Cellbit was about to tell him to forget it if it made him uncomfortable, but Roier started talking and signing before he could say anything.
“My dad is sort of a big fish at the police department, he’s been getting me jobs here and there because of… y’know,” he gestured to his ear and rolled his eyes. “I’ve been at the library for a while because I enjoy the quiet, no pun intended this time.”
Roier finished with a giggle but Cellbit could tell he was sizing his reaction, a little tense on the shoulders.
“Mmh…” Cellbit said, keeping a stern face, “So what you’re telling me is that you’re a Federation nepo baby.”
Roier stared at him, eyes round and mouth open before bursting into laughter, this time way lighter and way more genuine.
Cellbit was seriously starting to think he might be addicted to that sound.
“Ah… busted!” Roier said once he calmed down, wrinkling his nose. “You know what’s even funnier? My dad only got that job because he caught a higher-up mingling with a civilian in his office.”
“Now that sounds juicy,” Cellbit joked, suddenly noticing that at some point in their conversation they had moved closer, acutely aware at how their knees and hands were touching as they sat facing each other on the sofa.
Cellbit’s heart decided to start pounding faster on its own accord, the traitor.
“How do you say ‘juicy’ in sign language?” He asked casually, trying to change the subject and getting a curious smile from his companion.
“Like this,” he grabbed Cellbit’s hand and maneuvered it till it got to the position he wanted. “You spell ‘J’ and then squeeze like it was a fruit.”
Cellbit watched attentively but didn’t let go of Roier’s hand once the demonstration was done. The sun was setting and filtering through the window in the prettiest golden colors, and Roier was bathed in it, and he looked so beautiful, and Cellbit couldn’t breathe.
“How do you say ‘pretty’?” Cellbit croaked out and Roier stuttered for a moment but complied, still holding his hand.
Slowly, Roier lifted Cellbit’s hand towards his own face and made a sweeping motion starting from his temple and ending on his chin.
“Pretty,” he said softly, eyes shifty but holding his gaze. Cellbit could see pink starting to creep up his neck again.
He let his thumb rest on Roier’s chin, his fingernail brushing his lower lip every time the boy took a wobbly breath.
He hesitated, looking into Roier’s eyes, two warm pools that seemed to be begging for something. And Cellbit wasn't religious but in that moment he prayed to the heavens he wasn’t reading them wrong.
“How do you say ‘kiss me’?” he breathed out, air still and charged.
Roier licked his bottom lip and wrapped his fingers around Cellbit’s wrist, smiling blindingly.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he said before Cellbit found himself being pulled forward right into welcoming, soft lips.
The kiss was sweet and hesitant at first, both tumbling into uncharted territory as they moved closer. Roier tasted like popcorn and bliss and Cellbit couldn’t help to seek more, swiping his tongue gently against his lips.
He felt Roier’s hands in his hair as they deepened the kiss with a sigh, Cellbit suddenly aware he was sitting across the librarian’s lap but too distracted to feel embarrassed or give a damn.
They sat there for a while, sharing tender kisses, caresses and holding each other, and if Cellbit was dreaming he wished to never wake up.
“I know you’ve been writing about me,” Roier said at one point, when Cellbit was too entertained by kissing his lashes like he’d fantasized many times. “I checked your notebook at the coffee shop once when you were in the bathroom.”
He didn’t sound remorseful and Cellbit wasn’t bothered in the slightest.
“Nosy,” he said, pushing Roier’s head back with his index finger so he could read his lips clearly, “I might have to make you sign an NDA.”
“Can we make it a verbal agreement?” Roier countered, pouting his lips and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Cellbit couldn’t help but snort, cupping his face with his hands and leaning down once again.
“We can do whatever the hell you want,” he mouthed against Roier’s lips, and if the eager response he got was anything to go by, he was sure Roier had gotten the message loud and clear.
“Hey, does that mean we signed a contract in the language of love? :P”
“Stop. ᵛ-.-ᵛ”