Work Text:
Ed loved his local library for a lot of reasons, but he had to admit that being able to access his guilty pleasure on the down low was his favorite. What was his guilty pleasure, you might ask? Romance novels. Torrid, salacious, historically inaccurate, consensually dubious romance novels.
Arranged marriage? Sign him up. An entire series of brothers or sisters each finding their alleged soulmate? Absolutely. A marriage of convenience between lifelong friends that blossoms into something more? Ed was there with bells on.
The day Ed learned most libraries had a digital catalog was the day he marched down to the quaint little library a block from the beach with his ID and a piece of mail in hand. It was the first time he’d had a library card since elementary school, and the library had come a long way since then.
Ed went from reading a handful of books a year to a handful of books a week.
Most of the time he didn’t even have to set foot in the library to get his fix, but sometimes he just couldn’t wait. Requesting a book to find out there were four-hundred-and-eighty-two people ahead of you was a bit daunting, so he'd add his name to the list for a physical copy and wait to see which one came up first.
In this instance, Ed woke to a text message letting him know his hold was available and waiting for him, and if he didn’t have that mass-market paperback in his hands before his noon appointment at work, he was going to lose his mind
He’d been waiting to read the sequel to Soulmates at Sea for over a year. It was already rare enough to find queer romance novels that didn’t feel like bad fanfiction with lazy alterations to avoid a copyright lawsuit. Now, Love in a Lighthouse was waiting for him, and it was the exact motivation Ed needed to get up without snoozing his alarm fifty-seven times.
Ed rolled out of bed and into his ‘uniform’, as he thought of it. There weren’t actually any uniforms required for the tattoo shop, that would be fucking stupid, but it wouldn’t be a stretch to come to that conclusion when you walked into the shop to find a sea of black clothes and silver hardware as far as the eye could see.
He tucked his artfully ripped black jeans into his boot and pulled on an old shirt from a Prince Concert. Ed had ended up taking in the entire concert from a bathroom stall while he hooked up with someone he’d met in the merch line. He chuckled at the memories as he pulled on a leather jacket to obscure the hints of his stomach showing thanks to the time he took a pair of scissors to the hem after accidentally getting bleach on it while cleaning the shop. It wasn’t that anyone had ever made him feel inappropriately dressed, but showing his stomach in the library felt disrespectful somehow?
Whatever, he wasn’t in the mood to examine his sense of propriety when there was a romance novel waiting for him.
Ed pulled out of his drive and turned his bike toward his little library with enough time to read a few chapters at the nearby coffee shop before his first appointment. Pulling into the parking lot, Ed remembered his surprise at how unpretentious the library was. It was nothing like his vague memories of intimidating stacks of academic books and the equally intimidating staff, doling out hissed orders to keep it down while they judged his mom for her well-worn scrubs—but maybe his childhood library just sucked.
This place was brightly lit with big, blocky seating that looked like giant doll furniture. There were a handful of old computers usually occupied by job searchers and octogenarians checking their email. There was a cute kids' section with a wacky rug and some bean bag chairs, and though Ed rarely found himself browsing the shelves, the times he had were pleasant and welcoming.
There had never been a negative comment on what he checked out, and no one looked twice at his long hair or tattoos. In fact, Ed was sure he’d seen a few members of staff at the shop getting book-related tattoos but he couldn’t be sure since he’d been actively inking someone at the time and had other things to focus on.
Ed made his way toward the little section of shelves that housed the held items when he spotted a new face behind the desk. A pretty face. And hel-lo, a pretty everything else as well. The new blond librarian stepped from behind the empty desk to shelve some books in the Large Print section, giving Ed a nice view of toned legs and a grabbable ass. The short sleeves of his polo showed off a decent set of arms that had to come from lifting more than a hefty stack of paperbacks.
Sweater vests usually didn’t do it for Ed, but paired with the glasses? The curls? The trousers? It was working for him. Ed hesitated for the briefest of seconds before grabbing the book that had a peelable sticker with his last name printed down the side. He opted to use the automated checkout, not trusting himself to not blurt some cheesy pickup line.
Ed decided to wait until his next visit, after he’d steeled himself against Blondie’s charms. It worked out, since in the thirty seconds since Ed looked away four people appeared at the desk to demand help from the now-frazzled librarian.
Receipt in hand, Ed secured the book in the small trunk of his motorcycle and headed to the coffee shop to treat himself to breakfast and a few chapters of romance between a gentleman and a pirate turned lighthouse-keepers.
Within ten minutes, Ed had a piece of pound cake, a caramel frappé, and he was ready to bury his nose in his new book. His reading was interrupted before it even started when he noticed a gap in the pages toward the middle of the book.
Someone forgot their bookmark, Ed thought in delight. To date, Ed had never purchased a single bookmark. He had a collection sitting on the tiny shelves of his nightstand for the few books he kept in his room, hidden away from the ones he didn’t mind displaying in the living room.
He had a nice little ragtag collection of eclectic bookmarks. A handful were religious and inspirational quotes scrawled across pretty scenery, though, on second thought, those might have been left between the pages of his tawdry romances on purpose. There was a Calvin and Hobbes comic that had been cut from the newspaper and laminated as well as an official Snoopy one, cheerful little Woodstocks dancing along the length of said bookmark. There were a few superheroes and Jane Austen quotes and one incredibly memorable Fabio bookmark, complete with majestic windswept hair and bared chest, and finally a few animal ones as well.
His favorites were the shark ones he’d found, both found completely independent of one another. One was for a lemon shark, which honestly just made Ed hungry for some good, lemony seafood, and the other was a bonnethead shark. He was torn between finding that particular shark adorable, thanks to the name and being the cute version of the hammerhead, or hilarious, thanks to the fact that it kinda looked like a dick.
Especially after a drink or two.
Ed grinned to himself, eager to see what he was about to add to his collection.
He opened the book to discover much more than a single bookmark waiting for him. There were three long sprigs of dried-and-pressed lavender alongside a polaroid of a raggedy teddy bear undergoing some kind of medical procedure. A piece of paper was wrapped around something that felt like a gift card, and Ed unwrapped the paper to see what he would be treating himself to later. Instead of a gift card, he found an ID for the local university. Wait, he thought incredulously. Is that…?
It was. The ID in the book belonged to the hunky new librarian. Ed chuckled in disbelief, unable to help but feel like this was the start of more than one contemporary romance. Stede Bonnet the name read. Stede. That’s different.
Ed liked different.
Wait, he thought again, flipping the card over to look at the name. Stede Bonnet. Like his shark bookmark. How frickin’ trippy was that?
He moved on to the note, or a list of groceries to be more precise, and it only made Ed even more intrigued by the new face in his neck of the woods.
miniature cauldron(s)—check availability
marmalade—not Ricky’s Princely jams!!
fraudulent citrus suspected honey & honey wand (???)
one (1) green apple (small)
one (1) pear (small)
assorted miniature gourds
12 10 oz prosciutto, skinny slices
6 oz of mozzarella—not burrata! It! Is! Wet! Inside!
small sunrise sourdough
swe dry sweet red wine
oblong silver tray
two (2) taper candles
one (1) pillar candle
assorted tealights
one (1) cinnamon broom; only genuine, no cassia—check label
potted rosemary, under twelve inches
It looked like the man was assembling a charcuterie board or perhaps engaging in witchcraft, and either way, Ed was down.
He almost couldn’t believe his luck, having a whole ass legitimate reason to approach the guy after what was basically a chance sighting. Ed chuckled to himself as he pulled out his phone. Would it be weird to look the guy up? Or weirder to approach him at work?
There was a good chance he wouldn’t even be able to find Stede on social media. The odds of him using his name were about fifty-fifty, but it was worth a shot. Shrugging, Ed tapped out Stede Bonnet in Instagram’s search bar and immediately got a hit for a Mary Bonnet.
Fuck. Ed hadn’t even considered the possibility he might be married. Maybe it’s a sister? his mind supplied hopefully, regardless of the lack of familial resemblance.
He clicked the profile and his optimism rose when he saw the second picture on this Mary’s grid was of her kissing a man who was definitely not Stede. A few more scrolls and Ed realized Mary was Stede’s amicable ex, and the slew of pictures of her and what Ed imagined were little Bonnets cheering Stede on at Pride told him their split bode well for him.
Eventually, Ed found a tagged picture of his leggy blond quarry. Stede’s Insta wasn’t private, and it was often updated, but Ed had an eye for small businesses. He was willing to bet Mary was slowly transitioning her personal page to a professional page for the impressive art he’d seen, and featuring less personal posts and tags was a part of the process until you found your niche.
Stede’s IG, however, was endearingly personal. Books&Bonnets showed pictures of Stede getting what appeared to be a third degree if the caption was to be believed, as well as tons of personal little glimpses of his life. Goofy pictures with his kids, books and journals and flowers and aesthetic drinks galore, and yeah, a lot of charcuterie boards.
Ed’s finger hesitated over the message icon as he debated whether or not to reach out to return his ID instead of just returning it to the desk when he brought the book back.
Fuck it.
Kraken Ink:
This is probably really weird, but I think you left an ID in the book I checked out
Kraken.Ink🐙:
Couple other things too
There. Totally normal.
Ed set his phone down and picked up his book again only to remember his account didn’t have his name in the handle.
Kraken Ink: Uh, my name is Ed, btw. Sorry, realized my account didn’t have my name in the handle.
Okay, perfect. Identity clarified. Moving on.
He picked up his book again and assumed he’d have a hard time getting back into things, given how his leg had started to bounce in anticipation. But Ed had been waiting a long damn time for this book, and he was more than invested in the story unfolding.
Ed nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone vibrated on the table about five minutes later, just a single short buzz used for app notifications. His lips twitched in a grin when he saw the Instagram icon and he quickly swiped his phone open.
Books&Bonnets: Oh goodness. I just remembered the last book I borrowed. How embarrassing… 😅
Ed grinned, snickering, and a bit too loudly for the coffee shop’s other customers if the looks they gave him were any indication.
Kraken.Ink🐙: Mate, you realize that means I *currently* have the same book checked out, right?
Ed meant to set his phone down and enjoy his book, he really did, but as soon as he did he saw the three little dots indicating Stede was messaging him back.
Books&Bonnets:
Yes, but for you it’s charming. For me, it’s mortifying.
Kraken.Ink🐙:
How do you figure?
Books&Bonnets:
Because you are (apparently) a stylish, handsome tattoo artist who can afford to have a “quirky” habit. I’m a cardigan-clad librarian with more quirks than sense. You can pull it off
Ed huffed out a silent laugh. There’s a lot I’d like to pull off of him, starting with his pants. He let himself picture the way Stede’s thighs had filled out his trousers as more messages popped up on the screen.
Books&Bonnets:
Handsome and stylish in an objective way. Not an internet creep way
Books&Bonnets:
That wasn’t very convincing was it?
Books&Bonnets:
Sorry, I’m not good at communicating via message
Books&Bonnets:
Or at all, really.
Kraken.Ink🐙:
You’re definitely handsome enough to have a quirky hobby or five.
Kraken.Ink🐙:
And I *do* mean that in an internet creep kinda way.
Whelp. There it was. So much for not immediately saying something cheesy in person when he went ahead and did it in a way that could be screenshot and shared. Nice moves, Teach. Real smooth.
Books&Bonnets: Oh!
Books&Bonnets: Well thank you.
Kraken.Ink🐙: Are you this polite to all the internet creeps that come your way?
Books&Bonnets: Only the nice ones
Books&Bonnets: So just you. Internet creeps might find they get a little further if they led with a greeting rather than a picture of their unmentionables
Oof. The dangers of social media. Ed was glad for all that social media had done in terms of keeping people connected and boosting small businesses, but random dick pics were not one of the many blessings of online socialization.
Before Ed could offer his condolences (or have his body taken over by some early twenty-something and offer to send Stede a picture of his own unmentionables), Stede messaged back.
Books&Bonnets:
It might be a bad idea to disclose where I work to strangers on the internet, but I work at one of the local libraries.
Books&Bonnets:
The one near the beach
I know, Ed thought. God, could I be any weirder?
Kraken.Ink🐙:
That’s actually where I just checked this out from
Books&Bonnets:
Small world!
Books&Bonnets:
We must have just missed one another
Books&Bonnets:
But no need to go out of your way! You can just turn it in to the desk when you return the book
Books&Bonnets:
A very good book, by the way. It was more than worth the wait
Books&Bonnets:
Though for all I know you could be one of the fiends that reads a series out of order
Ed bit his lip to stifle the bark of laughter that wanted to leave his lips and spare himself the glares of angry coffee house patrons as another volley of messages came through.
Books&Bonnets:
I’m *so sorry*
Books&Bonnets:
I just read that back and I heard how unforgivably rude it sounded
Books&Bonnets:
And after you were nice enough to message me about my ID
Kraken.Ink🐙:
Not just your ID
Kraken.Ink🐙:
There’s a picture of two kids operating on a stuffed animal
Kraken.Ink🐙:
Some yummy pressed lavender and a recipe for witchcraft too
Books&Bonnets:
Witchcraft???
Ed sent a picture of forgotten detritus and watched the little ellipses in the bottom corner start and stop over and over again, shaking with suppressed mirth. He imagined the cute librarian frantically tapping at his phone, his face flushed and eyes comically wide with embarrassment as he read Ed’s messages, and the resulting responses didn’t disappoint.
Books&Bonnets: omg that is so embarrassing
Books&Bonnets: *MORE* embrarassing
Books&Bonnets: Is it less embarrassing if I tell you that was for a picnic?
Books&Bonnets: and not witchcraft
Books&Bonnets: Actually don’t answer that
Books&Bonnets: it’s definitely more embarrassing since the picnic was for myself
Books&Bonnets: i didn’t need to admit that
Kraken.Ink🐙: Bit disappointing tbh
Kraken.Ink🐙: I was kinda looking forward to learning witchcraft
Ed eagerly anticipated Stede’s response to his replies as he planned out potential cheesy segues to even cheesier pickup lines only to get a taste of actual disappointment when he was left on read. He scrolled back to the start of their exchange and saw that approximately ten minutes had passed. It was a little short for a fixed cooperate break, but maybe Stede had the good fortune not to be addicted to his phone like most everyone else.
That’s what Ed was going to tell himself, at least.
He didn’t know the man enough (at all) to get all down about being left on read, and this being the most engaged he’d been in a conversation in way too damn long was more a statement about probably all the proof he needed to dust off his therapist’s contact info to address his tendency to self-isolate and chase after the unattainable.
But Ed had to go to work before he could force himself to think about that. He finished his breakfast and packed away Love in a Lighthouse, accepting he wasn’t going to be getting any reading done with how thoroughly distracted he was by a few DMs.
Despite his first appointment of the day not being for another hour and a half, Ed headed to work to get an early start on some stencils, maybe add some shit to the flash sheets and mystery tattoos that people ate up. Hell, maybe he could add a little something to himself; he’d been feeling a little bland lately. Nothing like a spontaneous tattoo to reboot the system, y’know?
Ed holed himself in his closet-sized office and doodled his way through a flash sheet only for him to realize it was all witchy shit, some of the designs straight for Stede’s list.
Edward Teach. You pathetic creep.
He liked the sheet enough that he didn’t trash it but he held off on sending it to the printer. He’d save it for a little later in the season, when there was a chill in the air and spooky movies on TV and when maybe looking at it didn’t make him feel like such a loser.
A glance at the time showed barely forty minutes had passed. Ed groaned, bored out of his mind thanks to not letting himself think about the thing he wanted to his about. He reluctantly pulled out his phone to get lost in a revolving door of short-form content after slogging through his missed notifications.
Ed sat up a little straighter when he saw some of those messages were from Stede. Fuck, how did he miss that? Ed cursed his whim to log out of his socials on his drawing tablet to keep himself from getting distracted while sketching and quickly opened Instagram.
Books&Bonnets:
Looking at the list again, I’m disappointed in myself
Books&Bonnets:
If I’m going to buy out the candle stall at the farmers market I could at least have the decency to do a little witchcraft
Books&Bonnets:
though I wouldn’t have the faintest idea where to start
Ed grinned at the hints of personality coming through the latest set of messages as his mind started to whir with date-bait possibilities anew.
Kraken.Ink🐙: Good thing you work in a library, huh? 📚
Books&Bonnets: I don’t see how I can fit in witchcraft research alongside my romance novel reading and elaborate picnic planning.
Books&Bonnets: I simply don’t have the time 😔
Kraken.Ink🐙: You know, I could bring your ID and stuff to one of those fancy picnics
Kraken.Ink🐙: since you’re so short on time
More frantic ellipses stuttered in the corner of the message screen as Ed crossed his fingers.
Books&Bonnets: it would be rude for me to invite you to a picnic for one
Books&Bonnets: unless… you would be interested in joining me?
Books&Bonnets: *Would* you be interested in joining me?
Books&Bonnets: or am I embarrassing myself again? 😅
The little emoji just made him imagine what Stede’s face might look like when he was embarrassed. Was he a blusher? God, Ed hoped he so.
Kraken.Ink🐙:
Very interested mate, thanks for noticing
Books&Bonnets:
Well I don’t know how this works!!
Kraken.Ink🐙:
how what works?
Kraken.Ink🐙:
Sliding into someones dms?
Books&Bonnets:
Flirting!
Books&Bonnets:
wait
Books&Bonnets:
Are dms flirting????
Books&Bonnets:
I mean is someone ‘sliding into your dms’ always flirting???
Books&Bonnets:
not the indecent pics those are self explanatory
Ed couldn’t help the inelegant snorting giggle fit he broke into. He really couldn’t.
Kraken.Ink🐙: …generally, yeah
Kraken.Ink🐙: I mean, sometimes its business shit
Kraken.Ink🐙: but only if you have a business to be messaged about
Kraken.Ink🐙: Did I just play myself and make you realize you’re drowning in digital date options?
Books&Bonnets: Well not *drowning*….
Books&Bonnets: But a gentleman with a fondness for romance novels might like to know he’s not the toad he thought he was 😊
Scoffing, Ed pecked out a reply, well aware he was being baited and not giving a single damn.
Kraken.Ink🐙: toad my ass
Kraken.Ink🐙: Speaking of toads, I’m not above a little witchcraft to take out the competition 👀
Books&Bonnets: Ed! Love magic is unethical
Books&Bonnets: At least that’s what my 15 min internet rabbit hole says
Kraken.Ink🐙: Alls fair in love and war
Kraken.Ink🐙: and witchcraft. All’s fair in love and war and witchcraft 🩷⚔️🪄
Books&Bonnets: Ah. Right. I had forgotten about that last part 🙄
Kraken.Ink🐙: Happy to remind you
Kraken.Ink🐙: Now should I forget about that picnic offer in favor of someone else in your DMs?
Books&Bonnets: No no!
Books&Bonnets: DMs? What DMs??
Books&Bonnets: Picnic please!!
Books&Bonnets: Maybe at the old lighthouse? 😳
Kraken.Ink🐙: *Now* we’re speakin the same language. Sunday?
Books&Bonnets: Sunday!
Books&Bonnets: Damn I have to go back on the floor
Books&Bonnets: Send me a list of icks and allergies please!
Kraken.Ink🐙: ✍🏻 on it
He set his phone down with a jaw-cracking grin. He didn’t think he’d ever been over the instant gratification of being able to download and read the sequel to a book the second he finished the first, but he had a feeling he might be motivated to see the inside of his little beach library a whole lot more.
Ed picked up his tablet and started sketching without shame. A lighthouse, he decided. With a marmalade jar for the light.