Work Text:
The library is uncomfortably warm with the early summer heat when Phil first sees him hovering by the philosophy section, a stack of textbooks in his arms.
Looking back down at his cart of put backs, Phil frowns. So far, he’d managed to shelve books today without having to properly interact with anyone, but with three books left on his cart, all of which needing to go right where the guy in front of him is standing, Phil braces himself for inevitable polite conversation.
Parking his cart against the end of the shelf a row back, Phil takes a deep breath in, wiping the sweat off his top lip before picking up the books off the cart.
“Excuse me,” Phil says softly as he approaches him.
The guy violently flinches, turning to look at Phil with a shocked expression on his face.
“Christ,” he says, letting out a small laugh.
“I’m sorry,” Phil says, feeling a blush warm his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, that’s okay,” The guy smiles, deep dimples appearing on his cheeks.
Dammit.
Phil feels stuck. He knows his face is probably bright red, but he can’t stop looking at the guy in front of him.
He’s annoyingly attractive, Phil decides, his gaze lingering on the curls falling across his forehead and sticking to his damp temples.
He can’t be much younger than Phil, either, and judging by his reading material, he must be a university student.
When Phil notices the corners of his mouth turning down a little, Phil realises he’s been staring.
Shit.
“Uh,” Phil says, mentally kicking himself. “Sorry, I’m just—I need to put these books away.”
“Oh,” The guy says, a small pink spot appearing on his jaw. “Right, sorry. I’ll get out of your way.”
“I’ll be quick,” Phil promises, awkwardly moving into the space the guy was just occupying. “Um, I’m Phil, by the way. Did you need any help finding anything?”
Phil never offers to help anyone. Not unless they approach him first, at least. In fact, a large part of why Phil took this job shelving books was because he isn’t being forced to constantly interact with people.
“Oh, erm, how good are you at writing year three philosophy essays, Phil?” he asks, laughing a little.
“I’m not entirely sure that’s my forte, um...?” Phil says, trailing off, hoping that the guy will take the hint and tell Phil his name.
“Oh, I’m Dan,” he says, sticking out his hand.
Phil takes it and smiles, and despite the slightly clammy texture, the weight of Dan’s hand in his is strangely comfortable.
*
Phil sees Dan during nearly every shift he works for the next three weeks after that.
When he takes his breaks, Phil sits with Dan and helps him revise for his exams. Phil knows nothing about philosophy, but between Dan’s laughter at his lame puns and the iced coffee Dan starts bringing him after their third meeting that breaks through the humid warmth of the library, Phil can’t think of a better way to spend his breaks.
Or, rather, his the entirety of his shifts.
When he’s not studying, Dan discreetly follows Phil around the library. They talk quietly as Phil organizes and shelves books, finding out that they have a lot more in common than they initially thought.
Eventually, talking to Dan becomes so familiar to Phil that he starts to miss him outside of his shifts. He even appears in some of Phil’s particularly intriguing dreams (not that Phil would ever tell Dan, or anyone really, about those dreams).
The day after Dan’s exams finish, Phil feels a strange pang of panic as he fans himself with one hand and arranges books for shelving on his cart with the other.
Dan hasn’t shown up at his usual time.
It’s ridiculous. He’s a twenty five year old man who’s perfectly capable of spending a shift without the cute guy he hasn’t even known for a month.
Phil shakes his head, wheeling his cart into the horror section.
Stopping at the awfully messy Stephen King section, Phil rearranges the books, falsely hoping that just looking at some of his favourite titles will be able to distract him from his letdown.
“Hey.” The voice is soft.
Phil turns to see Dan standing at his side with two iced coffees in his hands, his hair sticking to his forehead more than usual.
“Sorry I’m late,” Dan says, holding a coffee out to Phil. “I almost got hit by a car and a cyclist on my way here from starbucks. I would have texted, but I don’t have your number.”
Phil blushes at that, thanking Dan and taking the coffee before setting it down on his cart.
“Maybe we should exchange numbers then?” Phil asks tentatively, pulling out his phone and holding it out to Dan.
“Yeah,” Dan says quietly, taking Phil’s phone and entering his number. “I’d like that.”
Phil smiles as Dan hands him back his phone and their eyes meet. He pockets his phone and breathes in, his heart pounding as he blurts out another question.
“Are you—are you free after seven tonight?” Phil asks, the words coming out too quickly.
“Seven?” Dan asks. “Yeah, I should be. You know, I’m on summer break and all.”
“Okay,” Phil says. “Okay, good. Great. Did you want to meet me by the entrance? We could get something to eat or…”
“Um, yeah,” Dan says, the pink spot on his jaw a vibrant red. “Actually, I know the perfect place where we can go.”
“Great,” Phil says, smiling widely. “I’ll see you there?”
“Yeah,” Dan says, returning Phil’s smile. “I’ll let you get back to work then?”
“Oh, okay,” Phil says, trying to feign the disappointment in his voice. He is here to work, after all.
Dan looks around for a moment before looking back at Phil and leaning in, planting a quick kiss on his cheek.
Before Phil can process what just happened, Dan’s speed walking away.
Collecting himself, Phil pulls out his phone and brings up Dan’s number.
Hi. This is Phil :3, he texts.
Almost immediately, Dan texts him back.
hey :)
So much for actually getting any work done, Phil thinks, quickly typing out another message to Dan.