Words: 1.5k (multichap, i’ll be posting the first chapter here and the rest on ao3)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Summary: library au. pope works at the library, and jj asks for help studying.
He does, really. It’s just- frustrating, sometimes. The stupid teenagers; the mountains of books the owner makes him stay behind to stack; that musty smell that makes him sneeze every three seconds. It can be okay, of course. He’s always loved books, and he’s always dreamed of working at a library. It just isn’t what he expected.
Between college, studying, and taking care of his dumbass roommate, he hardly has enough time for work. After the first week, the ‘wow-I-work-at-a-library-and-this-is-straight-out-of-a-romance-novel’ magic wore off, and was replaced with stress, dust, and piles of unsorted books. And, worst of all, other students from his school come in constantly, and all he can do is keep his head down and pray they don’t see him.
Pope, unfortunately, is not a very lucky person.
He’s just about ready to die when he hears his name get called by someone he definitely recognises. The blonde from his history class is sitting at a table in the corner, waving him over. Pope feels his stomach churn uncomfortably as he approaches, his hands growing sweaty as he take’s JJ’s appearance in. His eyelashes are highlighted by the sun, much like his hair, and his bruised knuckles are flexing as his fingers strum nervously against the table. Pope's mouth is dry. He fucking hates how attracted he is to this guy.
“Hey, P,” JJ smiles- all teeth, no eyes. Fake for the sake of charm. “I didn’t know you work here.”
Pope grimaces. “Enough with the nicknames, please.”
“Isn’t Pope already a nickname?” JJ grins, bringing a beaten up pen to his lips and leaning back in his chair. He lifts his foot up to the table to balance himself, the action striking the other’s blood cold.
“No feet on the table,” Pope almost-sneers, swiping at the blond’s boots. “You aren’t even reading anything. Why are you here?”
JJ holds a hand to his heart. “I’m totally reading.” He reaches across the table, picking up an old-looking textbook for their history class. “Studying, actually. Why don’t you join me?”
Pope narrows his eyes. “Seriously? Bye, JJ.”
“Wait!” the blond calls as Pope turns. “I need help studying, okay? I came here for some quiet, but I can’t concentrate. I just- I’m gonna fail midterms if I don’t get this done. I’m already behind in, like, a bajillion classes. Please, man.”
Pope pauses. “If you wanna pass, you should stop fucking around in class. I see you with John B in the back. You’re super annoying, by the way. Some of us are here to, like, get college degrees, so we can get jobs. We’re not all trust-fund sons here on Daddy’s money.”
“I’m not rich, if that’s what you’re implying,” JJ scoffs, looking almost offended.
Pope shakes his head. “No way you got here on a scholarship.”
“Okay, I won’t take any offence from that,” JJ says. “You make a fair point. The dean paid for my tuition. A special, 100% discount. Just for me.”
Pope furrows his eyebrows. “What, did you blackmail her? Did you sell her meth or something?”
“She’s my mom, dude. Chill,” JJ laughs.
Pope tries to ignore the way his stomach flutters when JJ laughs. “So you are rich,” he deadpans.
JJ rolls his eyes. “Nah, she just owes me. I grew up in North Carolina, in the Outer Banks. Right in the shitty part, like the lucky bastard I am.”
Pope can’t help the way that piques his interest. “Really? I grew up on the coast there, I visited the Outer Banks a few times.” He shuffles his feet, his posture relaxing by the tiniest degree. “How is your mom the dean here, though? She’s been at this school, for, like, decades.”
“Fifteen years, actually,” JJ corrects, pointing a finger. “Can you help me study now? I’ll put a good word in with my mom. Then you can, like, be at the top of all your classes and fulfil all your nerdy dreams. What do you even wanna be?”
“A mortician,” Pope replies. “I’m really into forensic scien-“
“A mortician?” JJ interrupts, a laugh strung along with his words. “What the fuck? That’s the grossest shit ever. I thought morticians were people who just, like, failed at being real-people doctors.”
Pope grits his teeth. “Dead people are real people. It’s a respectable and interesting science. You probably wanna be a MacDonald’s worker or something, anyway.”
“A MacDonald’s worker?” JJ scoffs, holding a hand to his chest “Pope, I’m offended! Am I not currently attending this prestigious university? The very same one that you attend?”
Pope raises his eyebrows, his head tilting downwards. “Yeah, but my mom isn’t the dean. I think we got in for vastly different reasons.”
“Vastly different- Pope! Why must you injure me so? My pride, it’s just… falling apart, at your very feet!” JJ exclaims, throwing his head back and rocking in his chair. He pauses, palm resting upwards on his forehead in a dramatic pose. “Will you pick it up for me? It’s just- it’s right over there. I don’t think I could manage.” He motions to the floor, where the sun highlights a soft rainfall of dust.
Pope scowls. “Fuck you, JJ. You can study by yourself.” He turns on his heel, his blood pumping unsteadily in his ears.
He hears a clatter behind him. “Wait, Pope! Shit, one second-” there’s another few crashes, sounds Pope doesn’t want to dignify with his eyes. “Pope, man, come on. Do me a favour.” JJ pauses, the library falling silent for one small, sweet moment. “Please?”
Pope presses his palms to his eyes and exhales sharply before turning around. “Why should I help you? You’re annoying, you’re rude, you don’t care about school-” he looks past JJ’s shoulder, where his chair is tipped over next to a pile of fallen books. “-and you’ve made a mess in my library, that I have to clean up.”
“I’ll clean that up. I promise.” As if to prove it, JJ takes a step back, without actually doing anything to fix the mess.
Pope blinks, unimpressed and growing more frustrated by the second. “Why do you even need help?”
JJ stares for a moment, eyes trailing along the shelf behind Pope’s head, as if avoiding his gaze. “I’m dyslexic.”
Pope nearly laughs. “So? Dysexic people can read. And study. I don’t see the problem.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t-” JJ pauses, motioning vaguely with his hand. “I didn’t, like, learn how to.”
Pope tilts his head. He’s trying his best to look condescending, but he’s afraid he’s failing miserably. “Your mother is the dean. The college has plenty of resources that can help you more than I can. Your old schools should have, too.”
“My old schools?” JJ repeats, eyebrows raised. “Pope, bro, you should know me well enough to know I never went there. And my mom doesn’t know, so I can’t use the ‘resources’ she apparently has anyway.”
Pope scoffs. “Your mom, the dean, doesn’t know that you’re dyslexic? Are you seriously making a learning disorder up just to annoy me?”
“I am not!” JJ exclaims, brow furrowing. A few strands of hair fall in front of his eyes, making Pope’s mouth go dry. “I was diagnosed in, like, the third grade. But my mom doesn’t know. And she can’t know.”
“Why not?” Pope asks. His voice catches, and he’s ready to drop dead if he doesn’t compose himself.
JJ waves his hand. “It doesn’t matter. But I have to pass if I wanna stay here. Can you just- help me out? Just this once?” He interlocks his fingers, twisting them uncomfortably, his purple knuckles flexing as his fingers twist. “I won’t bother you again. I promise.”
Pope considers running away for a moment. Just- running away. Turning on his heel and abandoning his responsibilities. But he’s getting paid minimum wage to be here, in this too-loud, too-messy, too-annoying library, and he’s worked hard for it. To be at this school, to be in this very building.
And JJ, the apparent son of the dean, wouldn’t be a bad person to get behind. Perhaps he’s annoying as he is blonde, and his eyes are prettier than they should be, and his stupid, worn-out boots make Pope want to stomp like a misbehaving child, but he’s the son of the dean, and Pope wouldn’t mind being on her good side.
“Will you put in a good word for me? To your mom?” he asks. He may as well take advantage of the opportunity.
JJ seems taken aback. “Yeah! Yeah, of course, of course. I’ll tell her all about you, put a good word in. And you’ll help me?”
Pope sighs. He clenches his teeth, jaw working as he hesitates to reply. After a considerable silence, he speaks. “Fine. But- don’t be annoying, okay? And stop rocking in your chair, you’ll break it.”
JJ grins, eyes sparkling, and runs a hand through his hair. “Great, man. I have my history book with me now, but if you’re still working I can, like, chill out. Or whatever.” He smiles, properly this time, like he’s been saving it until now.
Pope is definitely going to regret this.
