Archive of Our Own ^beta

Great. Fucking perfect.

As if his day was not already stressful enough, Ed now had a meeting at 9 p.m., and his evening was ruined. Stuffing his phone back in his jeans pocket, he cursed time zones and the apparent need of his clients to see his face. Why couldn’t the Earth just be flat, huh? Just face it towards the sun and flip it once every 12 hours. Easy peasy. No more having to get up early for the Europeans or stay up late for the Chinese, making his workdays longer and duller than what should be allowed.

This meant he only just had time to walk Izzy, poor bugger, and maybe find some food and a cup of very needed coffee before he had to be back in his home office to log on.

Of course, it was also raining. And windy. Which meant Izzy would be cranky and get muddy paws.

With a heavy sigh, Ed put raincoats on both himself and the straggly chihuahua and convinced the little guy to go outside. Izzy gave a displeased growl when a gust of wind hit them dead-on.

“Same,” mumbled Ed to himself.

At least the park was nearly empty, so he wouldn’t have to drag Izzy away from trying to pick fights with other dogs or bark at strangers. Not that he looked especially feisty today, folding back his ears and looking more grumpy than jumpy, occasionally giving Ed a glare and a whimper as if it was his fault the weather was shit.

Ed felt his own mind churn towards a negative spiral down the everything-sucks corridor and realized he hadn’t eaten in 10 hours.

Right, food and coffee. No wonder he was in a shoddy mood.

Problem was, he would have to buy something on the way home, and all the places he knew along the main road had, understandably, a “no dogs allowed” policy. Tying Izzy up outside while he ordered was not an option. He knew that due to bitter experience. So much for all those dog training classes.

He could try a detour in the general direction of his home. Hopefully, he could find somewhere that would allow him to shout through the door what he needed and where they would bring the card reader to the threshold. He’d done that before.

Taking a right turn at the next corner, Ed was soon walking down a street he hadn’t been to in a while. He rarely shook up his routine, mainly due to his limited free time. There wasn’t much room for deviation.

Slowly losing hope, he passed closed shops and a few places so busy he would feel bad about trying to call a staff member to the door. He had nearly resigned himself to having instant noodles and a Redbull for dinner when he saw it.

A sign under a dripping awning. A revelation. A saving sentence written in pink chalk under promises of sandwiches and cappuccinos.

“Dogs welcome :)”

Ed was so relieved he felt like crying. He had never seen this place before; a coffee shop with warm light streaming out and reflecting in the wet surface of the sidewalk in front of the floor-to-ceiling, black-paned windows.

He barged inside to the chime of a bell above the door, which Izzy gave a short “wrouf!” at. Sliding back the wet hood of his long raincoat and freeing his hair from where it laid damp against his neck, Ed looked around.

It was neither empty nor crowded. A low hum of voices filled the room in a comfortable manner, and looking up, Ed discovered two actual, real chandeliers and an actual, real fireplace to be the sources of the welcoming light.

But in terms of light sources, they were nothing compared to the man behind the counter.

Chatting animatedly with a younger coworker, golden hair falling in soft curls around his expressive features and disarming dimples, he was a beacon of sunlight shining through the dreary greys of Ed’s mundane world. It was only emphasized when the man perked up at the sound of the bell and looked over to the door. His eyes and smile found Ed’s stunned face where he was still dripping on the doormat that said “wipe your paws”.

Before Ed could process the sight properly, a large, snow-white, fluffy dog came bounding at him from behind the counter, yapping happily and almost leaping onto him if not for a sharp bark from Izzy. The larger dog had clearly not seen the tiny, miserable thing at Ed’s feet and jumped sideways in surprise.

“Arthur, no!”

The golden-haired man hurried towards them, but the dog had already stilled, looking curious and tilting his head at the furiously growling chihuahua. Ed tried to shush Izzy.

“I’m so sorry, he’s usually quite calm,” said the man, now holding on to the collar of the white dog, which licked his other hand.

“It’s alright, Izzy is an old grump. He hates everybody, don’t worry.”

“Oh, but Arthur was about to jump on top of you! That’s not like him. You can’t do that to customers, you hear?” The least sentence was directed at the dog in question, who looked cheerful as ever and not at all fazed by the hostile snarling still coming from somewhere behind Ed’s right boot. Ed watched the man’s resolve visibly crumble when the dog looked up at him.

“You know I can never be mad at you,” he cooed, and scratched the dog behind the ear. “Now go back to your basket before I change my mind!” He pointed towards a door in the back, seemingly leading to a small office of some kind, and Arthur obediently followed his directions, but not before giving his hand another lick.

Ed felt his own heart melt. This was not like him at all.

“Please come in, can I help you with anything?” The blond straightened up and clapped his hands together in a welcoming gesture, and Ed remembered why he was there.

“Uh—yes, can you do a caramel macchiato? Extra sirup.”

“Sure, let me take your order.” He hurried around the counter to stand behind the desk with a small jog. Endearing. Though apparently not to the younger, dark-haired barista, who rolled his eyes while continuing to “dry off” the same mug he had been holding since Ed stepped inside. Ed read his nametag: Lucius. This made him realize that the other man must have a nametag as well, and that he had been too busy getting blinded by him to notice it. While the man was typing on the register, Ed located it: Steve.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, a sandwich. Whatever you recommend, uh—Steve?” he tried it out, pointing at the nametag on the man’s chest in order to (hopefully) seem very casual about it all.

“It’s Stede, actually. Haven’t got the custom-made one yet, can you believe they don’t have it in stock?”

Ed could absolutely believe that, as he had never heard that name before in his life.

“Why not just—not wear a nametag, then? Or write one?”

“Nah, it’s a good ice-breaker, isn’t it? Look, we’re talking already!”

“Ed. My name’s Ed.” Not that Stede had asked. “For the—for the order.”

Stede didn’t seem perturbed at all, but beamed at him.

He watched Stede get to work on the coffee and the still undefined sandwich. There was something about the bountiful but neat mass of small curls at the back of his head that made Ed’s fingers itch to touch them, run his fingers through them, unfurl them and watch them spring back into shape. He was pulled out of it by a sharp yelp from Izzy, who stared reproachfully up at Ed staring at Stede, apparently dissatisfied with the amount of attention he was getting.

“Please sit down, I’ll bring it out when it’s ready!” Stede called from his workstation, barely even turning his head to look at Ed, which was only a little disappointing. “The dog treats by the register are free!”

Ed carefully picked out a treat from a small jar, choosing one that would hopefully not break any of Izzy’s teeth, and turned to find a place to sit. Only then did he notice what was in the corner of the coffee shop; walls lined with stacked bookcases and a table in front likewise overflowing with books of all sizes, colors, and states of wear. A small, laminated sign was hanging on the edge of the table:

While the letters were typed and printed beneath the shiny coating, the price was hand-written in blue marker on top. Ed walked over to shuffle through some of the books, dragging Izzy along. All books cost $18? Why such a specific number? Was it really the same price for the heavy novels as well as the postcard-sized children’s books? Some of these volumes looked old enough that they ought to be in antique stores, while others looked brand new.

“Here you are!”

Ed jumped and spun around, suddenly faced with Stede, who was grinning brightly at him with a cup in one hand and a full plate in the other.

“Don’t you want to sit down?” Stede said, pulling the items back a little when Ed reached out for them.

“Yes—I—yeah, but I was just looking—”

“Oh, our book sale! Feel free, I’ll put these down for you over here.” Stede chose the nearest table and placed his food and drink neatly, arranging cutlery on either side of the plate. Ed didn’t want to stare, but he couldn’t help it.

“I’m not sure I get how it works, though,” Ed said when Stede straightened up, seemingly admiring his own table-setting skills.

“What? Oh, the sale?”

“Yeah, why eighteen dollars? And you mean to tell me that this—” Ed held up an elaborately decorated edition of War and Peace. “—costs the same as this?” He picked up a worn version of Frog and Toad Together.

“Yes!” Stede said excitedly, and nearly knocked over a chair on his way to take the book out of his hand. “It’s a Dutch action-style book sale.”

Ed raised his eyebrows.

“Right, so yes, all books cost the same. We started at twenty dollars, and then lower the price by one dollar every day until we hit one dollar.”

“And what then?”

“Well, hopefully they’ll all be gone! Or most of them, anyway. All the money goes to charity.”

Ed fiddled with Frog and Toad Together, turning it over in his hands.

“But where do they all come from?”

“Oh, they’re all mine. I—uhm, recently had to move to a smaller space, and I have too many anyway, so I thought this would be a fun way for them to find new homes.” Stede rubbed the back of his neck, seeming a bit unsure. Ed wanted desperately to ask more, to know more about Stede, but suddenly remembered that he didn’t have all the time in the world to stand here and chat with the cutest barista he had ever seen.

“Cool. Maybe I’ll see if this is still here tomorrow, get it cheaper,” he said, waving the book before laying it back down on the table. Izzy grumbled when he had to follow Ed to the table Stede had made ready, but curled up between Ed’s boots as soon as he sat down. A glorious smile was back on Stede’s face.

“Taking your chances, huh? Well, call me if you need anything.” And then he was off, going into the backroom from where Ed soon heard the patter of paws and a soft who’s a good boy? that made his stomach swoop.

While the coffee was perfect and the sandwich amazing, Ed had an inkling that his improved mood and light steps on the way home through the increasing downpour was owed to something other than not being hangry and uncaffeinated anymore.

─ ❖ ─

The next day, Arthur did jump up to put his paws on Ed’s hip, and Stede apologized profusely, claiming he didn’t know why Arthur was acting like this. The dog’s cheerful excitement was in stark contrast to Izzy’s defensive yapping. Ed learned from Stede that Arthur was a Samoyed, and it was a trait that he looked like he was smiling all the damn time. Arthur was also part of the reason why Stede had decided to make his coffee shop (he owned it, apparently) dog-friendly.

“I got to keep him in the divorce, and couldn’t bear to leave him alone all day. He enjoys it here, makes so many new friends.” Stede eyed Izzy doubtfully.

“Divorce?”

“Yes, I got divorced three months ago. Hence the move and the book sale. And opening this place, too.”

“Oh.” Ed was wondering how much information he could needle out of Stede in the time it took to prepare a cup of coffee and a tuna wrap. He was getting side-eyed by Lucius for lingering in front of the register, but it was not like there were any other customers waiting right now. “Sorry. About the divorce, I mean.”

“Ah, don’t be,” Stede said, squirting sriracha sauce on top of the pile of fillings on the tortilla. “It was a mutual decision.”

“On account of…?”

“On account of her having a boyfriend and me, well—maybe wanting one. Rather than a wife, that is.” A faint blush spread over Stede’s cheeks, and something warm blossomed in Ed’s chest. Stede continued, hurried as if to distract from the last thing he said.

“At least both the kids are off to college, and I have my Arthur for company.” He sent a loving look to the fluffy dog sitting obediently at an appropriate distance to where the food was being prepared.

“So no boyfriend yet?”

Stede sent him a quick glance.

“No. No, haven’t had time for any of that. Quit my old job, moved, opened this café—it’s been quite the upheaval.” He wrapped up the tortilla and arranged it on a plate, sliding it over the counter along with a cup of coffee (decaf, no meetings this evening).

“I can imagine.” Ed smiled and tilted his head. Stede smiled back, and Ed would like to think he looked a bit confounded, maybe even shy, blush still present on his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck, a habit Ed was already wildly enraptured by. When he couldn’t postpone it any longer, Ed took his meal and brought it to the same table as the day before, next to the book sale where the price was now $17. He was beginning to think it was optimistic of Stede to think he could get rid of all the books this way, judging by how untouched the pile looked compared to yesterday, the Frog and Toad book still where Ed had left it.

─ ❖ ─

The book price was down to $15 when Ed next had time to come by after regretfully skipping a day due to several last-minute calls. This time, he came on a long lunch break between draining blocks of meetings. Izzy was in a sour mood, which was not unusual but did not improve when entering the café, predictably more crowded around lunch than in the evenings.

And with several people queueing behind him, Ed couldn’t hang out by the register and chat to Stede like he wanted. Disgruntled, he also found his usual table occupied (he might have only been there twice, but it was his because Stede had inadvertently chosen it for him). Instead, he had to settle down in an armchair with a small, low table in front. He shoved Izzy under the chair to try and give him a chance to be out of sight of the more friendly dogs.

He saw Lucius darting around and bringing out the food and drinks Stede made behind the counter, and resigned himself to the thought that Stede would be too busy today. It shouldn’t bother him as much as it really, really did.

While waiting, Ed got up to browse through the bookshelves, leaving Izzy to scowl beneath the chair with a small treat. He didn’t own many books—mostly listened to audiobooks in the limited time he had for that kind of stuff—but maybe he could find something interesting here to fill out his shelves.

Somehow, he again ended up picking up and contemplating Frog and Toad Together, the frayed corners, the dulled edges of the pages. Lost in thought, he didn’t even notice that his food had arrived until Stede cleared his throat in front of him, making him start.

“You can buy it if you want, you know,” Stede said.

“Mate, it’s a children’s book.”

“Yes, and?”

“I’m an adult, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Stede gave him a small smile and took the book from him.

“I’m actually a little sorry to part with this one. Had it since I was a child, and read it many times to my own children.” He flipped through the worn pages. “It can be comforting, even as an adult.”

Ed felt like a jerk.

“Why are you selling it, then?” he asked.

“Ah, I don’t know. Fresh start and all that. I shouldn’t need it anymore.” Stede put the book down, fingers lingering on the cover. “Someone else might be getting more use out of it.” His smile was brighter now, sincere. Ed wanted to drown in it, frame it and keep it in his pocket.

As if he had a talent for spoiling all of Ed’s best chances of staring at Stede, Izzy chose this moment to audibly gnaw at something at Ed’s feet, having emerged from his hiding place. Ed looked down at the sound.

“No, Izzy! Bad boy!” Ed hastily wrenched a book away from Izzy’s jaws. “Bad! You already got your treat!” Izzy scowled at him, unapologetically, and—was he imagining this?—side-eyed Stede.

“Oh no,” Stede said, taking the book from him to survey the damage. “Well, I can’t sell this now.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ed said, voice trembling a little bit. “I’ll pay, of course. How much is it—fifteen—?”

“No, no, don’t worry about it.” Stede waved his hand and gave him another brilliant smile.

“But the—the money’s for charity, right? I should at least give you—”

“Seriously, Ed, it’s not a problem. These things happen. I chose to let dogs in, hm?”

Ed squirmed and still didn’t feel right. He sent Izzy a chastising glare, which was reciprocated.

“Ed, I mean it.” Stede placed a grounding hand on his arm, and the warmth of it flooded all the way to Ed’s cheeks. Stede was touching him. Very casually and not at all world-wrecking, of course.

“O-Okay,” was all Ed could stammer out.

The least he could do now was to come back another time and buy some books for real. And to return every day, just to support the café, right? Right. Very good reasons.

He still left $20 in the tip jar for good measure when Stede had his back turned.

─ ❖ ─

At $14, Ed was in a hurry and had to grab his order to go. At least Izzy was happy they didn’t stay long.

At $13, Ed arrived just before close and got to be the only person hanging around while Stede closed. Stede allowed him to, and laughed at Ed’s bad jokes and scrunched his nose in displeasure when Ed told him about his job. Saying that’s why he quit his previous one. Ed contemplated this when he slouched on the sofa later, blue light from the tv the only thing illuminating his living room.

At $12, Ed was getting used to greeting Arthur at the door, to Izzy’s great dismay. Stede no longer apologized, just looked at them—him, Arthur—with so much fondness that half of it would’ve been enough to turn Ed’s legs to jelly. Stede really did love his dog. Unfortunately, Izzy seemed to have taken a special dislike to Stede, but seeing as the worst thing he did was yap, Ed couldn’t feel too bad about it. He felt special when he noticed that no other customers were jumped upon by the hurricane of white fluff like Ed was. And when Stede greeted him by name.

At $11, it was finally a slow day for Ed. At least he had ensured that it would be; he had resolutely cancelled all meetings after 4 to give himself the night off. He couldn’t remember the last time he did that.

This meant that he had time to properly browse the book selection. At first, he felt a pang of regret when he didn’t see Frog and Toad Together in the same place it had been the day before (and the ones before that) on the messy table holding the sign with the price. It shouldn’t bother him. If he wanted that damn book, he could have bought it any day. But now, clearly, someone else got it. Got the book that Stede had loved so much and had read so many times. It shouldn’t bother him, and it didn’t. Definitely not.

Instead, he found some coffee table books; some with photography, one with interior design, and another with modern art. Something he could browse through without too much commitment in the evenings, and which would look fancy and cultured in his apartment.

Ed had brought Izzy in a bag that he rarely used—a little too Paris Hilton-y—but seeing as he planned to stay for as long as he could justify, he wanted to ensure that Izzy was tucked in for a nap in a place where he couldn’t get to chew on any more books. Arthur had come over to sniff it out, and Izzy had growled a little less than he usually did. Baby steps, Ed thought.

Despite the line in front of the register and Lucius’s harrowed expression, Stede had stepped out to ask Ed if his meal was alright (of course it was) and shone with excitement at the stack off books in Ed’s arms.

“Found something you like?”

“Yeah, these look interesting,” Ed said, noticing that Stede was not clean-shaven today like he usually was. The stubble was not bad.

“And don’t forget—” Magically, wonderfully, Stede reached into the corner of a shelf and pulled out the children’s book that Ed had totally not been bothered to miss.

“It’s still here?” he said, a little too excited, maybe, but Stede lit up and held it out for him.

Ed didn’t take it. Stede gave him a questioning look.

“Did you—did you save it for me?” Ed asked.

“Nah, I can’t save books for customers. It would defeat the purpose of this kind of sale.” Did he seem slightly nervous?

“It was tucked away.”

“I was tidying up.”

Ed narrowed his eyes at him.

“Maybe I’ll get it tomorrow, got enough on my hands here, I think,” he said in the end.

“Oh, taking your chances on the price again?” Stede cocked his head, crinkles at the corners of his eyes and dimple taunting him.

“I guess so.”

─ ❖ ─

At $10, the book was still there, not-hidden in the inner corner of the highest shelf. Ed didn’t buy it, but took it out to look at the scribbled Stede on the inside of the cover. Lucius sidled up to him to look over his shoulder. Ed snapped the book shut.

“Please be a little less obvious,” Lucius said, raising his eyebrows at Ed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ed said, placing the book back in its not-hiding place.

“M-hm.” Lucius gave him another pointed look. “He’s single, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I knew that. I think.” Ed didn’t have to ask who he was referring to.

“Right. It’s just that you’ve been coming here every day for more than a week.” Lucius was tapping his foot.

“And? It’s close to my place. I enjoy the food. And the coffee.”

“Sure, but you could just ask him out, you know.”

“Why do you care?” Ed pretended to look at the volume of War and Peace he had picked up on the first day.

“First of all, so I wouldn’t have to see him be so anxious all day until you show up, watching the door all the time. The day you didn’t come was miserable. I don’t need that.” Lucius began collecting Ed’s empty plate and cup from the nearby table. “And secondly, because I’m hoping he would be less uptight if he got laid.”

“Sounds like you care about him.” Ed tried to push Lucius’s last comment aside. He had not allowed his thoughts to go too far into that direction, no matter how tempting it was.

“I do,” Lucius said, to Ed’s surprise. “He got me out of a tight spot. I used to be a pickpocket, you know. Homeless, too. Stole his wallet right out of his pocket. But then he noticed, and caught me before I could run, and he gave me this job.” Lucius gestured at the room with his free hand. Ed felt a lump in his throat.

“So it would be very fucking nice if you two would just get it over with,” Lucius said, before leaving Ed to his own thoughts, only woken by a whimper from a certain very tired, impatient chihuahua.

─ ❖ ─

It was down to $8 when Ed began getting worried. The stock of books was thinning more rapidly now, and he was eyeing the Frog and Toad book more anxiously with each visit. The reassurance was nice, though—like it was waiting for him to come by each day, still betting that he could get it cheaper, not using it as an excuse to keep coming back. Yeah, he was going to buy it, that fact had been creeping up on him. He had more time today, too, taking a half day off to the great protests of his superiors at work. But the day before ($9), he had again talked to Stede while he was closing up, about his job and Stede’s old one, and Stede had said something to him that stuck.

“I decided to take a hard look at every part of my life and see if it really made me happy, and throw away the things that didn’t. Staying in a dead marriage? Out, obviously. Family itself? That’s different, I can still keep that. Being—or, well, not even realizing I was in the closet? Out, literally. My job? I thought I needed money and a career to be happy because that was what I was supposed to think, but it made me miserable. I can do just fine with less. Better, actually.”

I can do just fine with less.

Maybe Ed could, too. And not overwork himself to death over getting the next promotion, and then the next. He didn’t even have anyone to share it with, so what was the point?

When it was quiet after lunch rush, Ed saw Stede put a leash on Arthur, talking sweet nonsense to him all the while.

“Going for a walk?”

“Yeah, wanna come?”

Izzy did not appreciate being forced to spend some of his walk-time with Stede nearby, but he would have to deal. Ed felt alive, watching Stede’s profile while he talked, seeing hazel eyes widen when Ed made a crude remark, hearing the warm laugh that followed. Only when they returned to the café did Ed notice that the sign outside had changed from “Dogs welcome :)” to “All pets welcome :)”.

“Oh yeah, a guy came in with a bird. A seagull. Very well behaved. So I had to change the sign.”

Lunatic, Ed thought.

─ ❖ ─

Ed finally felt a little more in control, a little more determined. With his job, with the whole Stede-situation.

Until he stepped inside on the day the book price was at $7.

Stede’s shirt was… low-cut. At least four buttons popped open, sleaves rolled up to expose his forearms. No undershirt, clearly. What the hell. Had he just decided to show up to work practically tits-out? Or maybe it was only Ed’s over-starved and under-stimulated mind that immediately jumped to all the dirty thoughts that Lucius had all but permitted him to have (at least Ed could blame him somewhat, if he really stretched it).

The worst thing is that Stede caught him staring.

“Is something wrong? Did I spill on my shirt?” Stede looked down his front and Ed quickly averted his gaze.

“Uh no, it’s—uh, isn’t that a new nametag?” By some kind of saving grace, Ed noticed that Stede’s nametag now spelled his name correctly.

“Yes! It just came in this morning. Ran to show Lucius, but bumped into him and spilled his morning coffee all over the both of us. Luckily, I always have a few extra shirts lying around.”

Ed was only now noticing Lucius wearing a matching shirt, but properly buttoned up and with the sleeves rolled down. When Lucius caught his gaze, he mouthed an exaggerated ask him out from where he was watering plants in the windowsills. Luckily, Stede was focused on the register.

“So, uhm—is that children’s book still here?” Ed tried to sound casual.

“Yes! I mean, I think so,” Stede said, and Ed nodded with a hum. Just then, the bell over the door rang, and a family of five crowded into the room.

“I’ll bring it to you, Ed.” Stede made a hand movement toward Ed’s usual spot, and Ed walked over to sit down. Ed looked around and saw Lucius wave discreetly at him, then mouthing and miming a so? to which Ed could only shrug, earning him a very exasperated look.

─ ❖ ─

At $6, half the books were gone. Ed was wondering two things to himself: one, why he had become so attached to the idea of owning an old, worn copy of Frog and Toad Together. And two, why he didn’t just buy it, cheap as it was at this point.

There was a secret third thing that Ed didn’t allow to fully take shape in his mind: why he hadn’t asked out Stede Bonnet the first day he saw him. But that one he could push away with the excuse that he was too busy, that his life didn’t leave time for dating or relationships, at least not enough for it to be fair to the other person.

Well, this excuse was crumbling, or would be very soon. He had sat down his superiors to discuss the terms of his employment. He wanted to work half-time. He wanted fewer clients. He wanted his office hours respected. It had gone surprisingly well, and the piece of white chocolate cheesecake he was now eating felt well-deserved. He was itching to tell Stede about it.

He felt like it was all the things were connected, somehow.

Stede took his break sitting across from Ed, bringing him a cappuccino on the house. Arthur came along to bother Izzy by looking at him. Izzy was once again in his bag, which he seemed surprisingly content with most of the time. Ed ruffled Arthur’s fluffy fur and scratched him behind the ears while Stede was so, so excited about Ed’s news that Ed felt like his heart was about to burst. The warm light from the chandeliers danced in Stede’s golden curls, his hazel eyes were intent on Ed, and why, why couldn’t he do it?

Why didn’t Stede?

─ ❖ ─

$5 was a very reasonable price for a used book, right?

Just a small one. One with a faded illustration of a frog and a toad on a tandem bike on the cover. One that had lived in Stede’s house, in his life. A little part of him.

Except that book was now in a stranger’s hands. Along with a stack of others, seemingly all for children, second in line from the register, behind which Stede stood. Devastatingly handsome, shirt sleeves rolled up again. It was decidedly unfair, all of it.

Ed stared daggers at the stranger, smiling all pleasantly, not knowing they were about to do something unforgivable and steal the book he was buying any day now. He crossed his arms and looked away, out of the window and to the rainy street, feeling the heat from the fireplace gently lapping at the back of his neck, exposed today as he had put his hair up in a bun. Only when a glint of gold flashed in the periphery of his vision did he whip his head around to see Stede heading to the bookshelves. Stede paused at the movement, lifting the book up to show him the bicycling amphibians. Something broke free in Ed’s chest.

“Changed their mind,” Stede explained, then reached up to put the book back.

“Why?” Ed asked, not distracted by the way Stede’s calves looked when he stepped onto his toes like that.

Stede just shrugged, and then, wonderfully, lightly touched Ed’s shoulder as he walked past.

─ ❖ ─

Ed was happy for Stede that the book sale was going so well. The stock was rapidly disappearing, and even though it was unlikely that all the books would sell, they were heading towards a solid 90% or so. It accelerated as the price reached $4, then $3.

Ed was not that happy for himself, though. It was getting harder and harder to hide his book from other customers, and he couldn’t loom over it all day, even with his reduced hours. He also had to deal with Lucius sending him pointed looks and eyerolls. But now, Ed felt almost paralyzed with inaction. He really should have done it sooner; now he was in so deep that it petrified him.

“What are you going to do after tomorrow?” Ed asked Stede, when the price was at $2 and Stede had joined him with a sandwich for dinner.

“You mean—after work?” Stede perked up without even finishing his mouthful first. That was not like him.

“I meant—about the book sale,” Ed said, regretting it immediately. Just typical of him to miss the perfect opener. Izzy was snoring at his feet, Arthur sitting up and staring intensely at the ham sandwich on Stede’s plate with that constant, open-mouthed grin.

“Oh.” Was that disappointment? “Well, I was thinking we could start it over. I got some donations, and the library—you know, around the corner?—they said they would collect some books for us as well. And I still have more.”

“So what, start at twenty dollars again?”

“M-hm.” Stede took another bite of his sandwich.

Before Ed left that day, he ensured that Frog and Toad Together was tucked safely up against the back of the shelf with a line of the most boring books Ed could find in front of it. It felt like cheating, hiding it like this, but he wanted to be sure.

─ ❖ ─

Today was the day.

He would buy that fucking book and then he would ask Stede Bonnet out. And if Stede said no, then at least Ed had played it to the end.

He wanted to be there when they opened at 10 a.m. It was Saturday.

Stede wasn’t there.

The door shut with the familiar thump behind him as he looked around, dumbfounded, seeing the place empty except for Lucius behind the counter. And Lucius looked like he was in a very bad mood. It was so silent, too silent, absent of the happy bark of a big, white dog and the warm greeting (Ed!) in a familiar accent.

“Lucius, why—where’s—?”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Lucius said, holding up a hand and glaring at him with a dishtowel slung over his shoulder. “Not letting any more middle-aged men snap at me today.”

“What are you—”

“Nope. The two of you are figuring this out on your own. I’m only doing my job from now on.” Lucius turned demonstratively away to clean the coffee machine, and Ed stood at a loss for words. Remembering why he was there, he went to the book corner.

It was gone.

Ed’s hand scraped against the back of the shelf, empty. He went through the sparse selection of books that was left—nothing. His stomach dropped.

So it wasn’t meant to be. This had to be a sign. He had waited too long, and now it was too late. Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry at all.

As he turned back towards the door, it burst open, and he was knocked over by a barking cloud of fur. Izzy skid across the floor to hide somewhere when Ed dropped the leash, yapping sharply while Ed’s face received a happy lick to his forehead, Arthur’s paws planted heavily on his chest.

“Edward!”

Stede was breathless, panting and sweaty as he freed one hand from where he was clutching something to his chest, reaching it out to help Ed up from the floor. Arthur kept jumping up and down next to him while he just stared open-mouthed.

“Ed, you alright? Arthur, we discussed this!” Stede turned to chastise the dog, who was decidedly unconcerned and only had eyes for Ed. But he didn’t let go of Ed’s arm. Relief at seeing Stede spread across his chest—maybe he could still—

Then his eyes fell on what Stede was holding.

A copy of Frog and Toad Together, looking brand new and shiny. Ed wordlessly reached out to take it, pausing Stede mid-reprimand.

“Oh, right, I—yeah.” Stede seemed on edge as Ed examined the clear film wrapping the book, unbroken.

“I had to—Lucius sold the other one,” he finally explained, and then it was as if the dam had broken. “Last night, I was out for ten minutes, and when I came back it was gone, and the bookstore opens at 10, I didn’t know you’d come this early, I—”

“Why?” Ed asked, feeling wobbly and warm at the corners of his eyes, vaguely aware that Arthur had gone to try and pry Izzy out from under a sofa.

Stede chewed his lower lip before answering.

“This is going to sound stupid,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. A pointed huff sounded from behind the coffee machine, but they both ignored it.

“You seemed to like it, my old copy, but you never bought it, so I wasn’t sure. But I thought—I thought I’d give it to you when you came by today. Maybe put a card with my number in it. I know it’s stupid—”

Ed broke him off by pulling him into a kiss. The surprised sound Stede made as their lips met had his mind spinning, but Stede soon sank into it, kissing him back and bringing his arms around him.

“Could you take that somewhere else? I’m still pissed at both of you.” Ed had nearly forgotten that they were still in the middle of the coffee shop when Lucius’s voice dragged him out of it. He and Stede broke apart, the most beautiful, radiant, flustered smile on Stede’s lips, that was all too soon replaced by a frown.

“You’re pissed? You sold my book!” Stede turned, hand lingering at Ed’s waist.

“It’s my fucking job!”

“Let’s talk in your office,” Ed said softly, nudging his hand. Stede sighed and stared daggers at Lucius, but all surliness left him when he looked back at Ed.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

A snarl crept out from under the sofa where Izzy was still cowering.

“I don’t think he likes me, though,” Stede said, gesturing at the source of the sound.

“Well, I do, so he’ll just have to deal. Come on, I’m done waiting to kiss you.”