Something unexpected, Malec, 3153 words, T rated.
A birthday gift to a wonderful @enkelimagnus - inspired by her fic, Six of Swords
The bookstore was usually quiet and calm - it was one of those âhole in the worldâ type of places - but people who would come there, came with purpose. Teenagers who only looked for school novels rarely visited the Reading Nook, but it still was a favourite place of many book lovers. They had many different sections, that were organised in an unusual way. Categories, such as âdragonsâ, ânot-so-happy endingsâ, âlgbt historyâ, âanimal charactersâ, âsecond life of a good bookâ and âreadersâ choiceâ provided a different approach to finding a suitable book, and many people found it helpful. If anyone was lost, as to where look for a book they might enjoy, they could always ask a person sitting behind the counter.
Magnus loved working there. The smells of old and new books, mixed with a pot of coffee or tea always brewing in the back room, had become familiar and brought him comfort. During slower days, he could take out his painting supplies, and work on yet another deck of tarot cards to sell. Once in a while, when he wasnât particularly inspired to paint, and no customer needed his attention, he would choose a book that had the most interesting description, and read - sometimes for hours to end. He also had a green light from the owner - who had rarely visited the place, due to his old age - to re-organise book categories, and the front display as he pleased. Magnus always made sure that something interesting and colorful was visible from the street, so more curious customers would come in. Just last week, he had finished yet another display on Harry Potter, as was his tradition for September.
The place was too small to host any meetings or book clubs, but it had a loveseat squeezed in between the window and an old, wooden bookcase. From time to time, a person or a couple would occupy it, reading or chatting quietly. Magnus had been a witness to people smiling like idiots, or shedding a few tears over a particularly good book. Sometimes, a customer might strike up a conversation with him - it usually happened when a person was looking for a book on a specific topic, but had no idea what to choose. Just last week, a teenager had come in, looking for a book on queer figures throughout history. Although, they had a section for that, they had had hard time finding a book that would be the best, and not cost crazy amount of money. Shyly, they had asked Magnus for advice, and the two had talked for over an hour - Magnus had shared his experience, as a bi man of color, and Remi had taught him about the local trans community in return. Magnus had pointed out a few books that might be helpful for Remiâs school paper, and suggested they would come and read them here, for free. He had brought in a chair from the back room, placed it next to the counter, and offered to share the space, so Remi could take notes on their laptop. After finishing their essay, Remi had sent it to Magnus, and had promised to share what grade they got on it. The encounter still warmed Magnusâ heart, every time he thought about it.
A man had entered the bookstore an hour ago. Magnus had greeted him but had kept to himself, seeing the determined look on his face. He had clearly known why he had come here. But, as the minutes had passed, and the man had kept browsing, he had started to look more and more lost.
Carefully, Magnus had placed his brush in the cup, then approached the man.
âCan I help you with anything?â Magnus asked.
âNo, Iâm afraid you canât.â The stranger looked sad. Maybe he had been looking for a specific book, but it hadnât been there? It had happened before.
âIf you are after a specific title, I can see if I could order it for you?â Magnus suggested. It might take a few days, for the book to arrive, but at least the man would get it. The warehouse they got all their titles from was very well-stocked, and Magnus knew an additional bookstore owner or two, in case the book would turn out to be exceptionally rare.
Magnus got a smile in return, but one that didnât reach strangerâs eyes. âThank you, but Iâm not looking for a specific book. Iâm no longer sure, if Iâm looking for a book at all.â There was a deep frown on manâs face, and he was hunched forward, looking tired. From up close, Magnus could see the dark circles under his eyes. For some reason, he didnât want to let the man walk out right away.
âHow about I make you something warm to drink, and you tell me more about what brought you here? Iâm sure we can figure something out.â Magnus suggested. The other man hesitated, but eventually nodded, and took the chair that had been occupied by Remi last week. âTea or coffee?â Magnus asked.
âTea, please.â The man replied. Magnus had left him by the counter, and went to the back room, to boil some water. He took two mismatched mugs, and added a spoonful of his favourite green tea to each, then waiter for the water to be ready.
Not long after, he had emerged with two steaming mugs. âBe careful!â He warned his companion, as he placed a mug in front of him.âItâs still too hot to drink. And you may want to wait until the leaves will sink to the bottom.â The man nodded again, thanking him silently for the beverage.
âMagnus.â Magnus offered his name, as he sat down. He thought it was a polite thing to do, and a good conversation starter.
âAlec. Alexander.â his companion replied, watching the steam curl over the rim of his mug.
âAlexander. What brought you here?â Magnus asked, and leaned back in his chair. He wanted to give the other more space to breath and think, since he looked to be troubled by his thoughts. Something important must have had convinced him to come.
âIâm an art student.â Alec said after a moment. The frown was still on his face, as if it was a permanent fixture to his features. âWe have an assignment. To create something using materials, that had already been used. Many people go for plastic bottles, or wine corks. T-shirts, pants... My friend is actually using her old pencils and crayons.â His sister, Clary, had suggested to break a few ceramics, but he wasnât feeling that.
He called Clary his younger sister, but, in reality, they werenât blood related. They had become inseparable, though, from the moment Luke and Maryse had first introduced them to one another, and grew up together under one roof, sharing a wall.
She had followed into his footsteps, claiming it had been him and not her biological mother who had inspired her to pursue art, and applied to the same art school one year after him. They both lived separately - Clary had a studio apartment, while Alec lived in a three-bedroom flat, with Claryâs girlfriend. It was the most bizarre combination, but the two had only been together for a few months. Maia spent most of her time at Claryâs, which gave Alec plenty of alone time, to work on his projects in the spare room. But he had been planning to ask Clary and Maia, whether or not they would want to switch apartments - they had been going pretty steady, even in such short amount of time, and Alec didnât mind living alone, as long as he would have space to work. And he knew that Claryâs studio apartment was good for that.
It warmed his heart to see his little sister and his roommate so happy and in love, and he would do anything to support their relationship. In his eyes, those two were true relationship goals, alongside mom and his step-dad.
âI thought about using books.â Alec continued. âWanted to cut out the letters, then layer the pages to show how our words turn into incomprehensible gibberish. How being unable to talk is the disease that kills our relationships with other people slowly, and then kills us from inside, when we are unable to express our needs and wants. We become numb, bland and detached from the world, going for the cheap thrills that promise us to fill the void inside, one we are unable to describe.â During his little speech, Alec had begun to gesture widely, and Magnus had found it adorable. What the other man was saying wasnât anything new to him - he had understood his thoughts and concerns fully. Many writers had written about similar things. Yet, Magnus liked the idea to use this as a message behind a new piece of art - it was an old lesson, but one worth teaching again. âOr just stick to the first part, I guess. Just the gibberish.â
âAnd you didnât find any of the books suitable?â Magnus asked, after carefully taking a sip of his tea. It could use a moment of two longer to brew, so he put the mug down.
âI guess I wasnât going for any specific book. Just books in general.â Alec shrugged. âButâŚâ he started, then grew quiet. They both just sat there, in silence that wasnât uncomfortable, drinking the tea slowly.
Magnus was about to ask whether Alec would enjoy a homemade cookie, when the other spoke again. âI just canât bring myself to destroy any of those books. Neither new, nor old. Thereâs just...so much love. Itâs clear someone is taking care of them.â Their eyes finally met over the counter, and Magnus was struck by the sincerity and rawness in Alecâs eyes. Here sat a man, who was unable to destroy a thing, that had been an object of someoneâs love. It was so pure and honest, that Magnus didnât know what to say.
âI know it sounds stupid.â Alec said, and broke the eye contact. âBut I just...canât. Maybe if I psych myself up. But not today.â
Magnus reached over the counter, and placed his hand on Alecâs forearm in - what he hoped was - a comforting gesture.
âThere is nothing bad about it. You shouldnât be ashamed of not wanting to destroy something.â Magnus told Alec, and the other man met his gaze again. âSome of those books had lived wonderful lives, and have an additional story to tell. And some had been printed less than 6 months ago. But, they have all been carefully selected, so they would have something to offer to their future reader. I actually think itâs beautiful that you can see that.â
âItâs not only that. It is clear to me how someone had been taking care of them. How much love has been put into keeping them in a good shape, so they can be read by someone one day. I assume you were one of those people.â Alec added. The frown he had been sporting, had somehow smoothed during their conversation. âThey are all carefully arranged, and there is no speck of dust on them.â
Magnus could feel himself smile widely, at the praise. No one had ever given him a similar compliment, but it had touched him deeply. âThank you. I do love to work here.â
Alecâs eyes traveled from Magnusâ face, to the surface of the counter, and his eyes had finally fallen upon the art supplies. âAre you an artist as well? May I see it?â He pointed towards the tarot card. Alec understood that the projects, and the process of creation, could be very intimate and personal, so he had wanted to ask before looking at Magnusâ art.
âOf course.â They both stood up from their chairs, to walk up to the opposite end of the counter. Alec leaned down, to have a closer look at the detailed painting. âWhat is it?â The small painting reminded him vaguely of something, but he had no idea what it was. Besides, this was Magnusâ project - he probably knew the best. Probably, since the results could be tricky, and sometimes things created in the process made no sense to the artists themselves.
âItâs a tarot card. The Moon.â The bright gold of the Moon was a stark contrast against the dark hues of blue and purple. Alec could vaguely make out more shapes in the dark background - two high towers, two dogs, and a lobster. âThis is my take on it, but I wanted to stay within the original design. Can you see a path in the middle?â Alecâs eyes were drawn to a thin line, and he nodded, hoping that he had found the right element. âThis is the path that we walk. The dog and the wolf.â Magnus pointed out to two figures, that Alec had previously mistaken for two dogs. âsymbolise our animalistic nature. One is tame and civilised, like a dog, and one is wild and feral, like a wolf. The two towers in the backgroundâ They were dark, barely floodlit by the Moon. ârepresent the forces of good and evil. They look exactly the same, to show how difficult it can be to distinguish between those two, in our everyday life. We walk a difficult path.â Magnus traced the middle line with his finger. âbetween wild and tame, between good and evil, between conscious and unconscious. The pond represents a subconscious mind, and the crawfishâ Magnus pointed out the lobster-like animal. âis the early stages of consciousness. The Moon, on the other hand, is the symbol of unconsciousness. This card is the essence of dual nature, and rules the astrological Pisces. Sorry, Iâm probably rambling.â Magnus said, blushing slightly.
âNo! No, youâre not.â Alec replied. âThis is really interesting. I had never seen a tarot card in my life.â Alec admitted. âI know nothing about them. But itâs beautiful. All the detailed work, and the meaning behind it...itâs beautiful.â
Magnus blinked, surprised. âMost people would find it weird or tacky. Tarot readings, magic things and such.â He rolled his eyes at his own words, but deep down he remembered well how much the reality could hurt. âYou are a one big surprise, Alexander.â
âA good one, I hope.â Came a quiet reply.
Magnus just rounded the counter, and reached for Alecâs hand, to pull him somewhere. âI may have a few things that could interest you.â He led them to a narrow hallway, that had bookshelves on both sides. There was barely any space for the two of them to fit, without touching each other. Magnus kept whispering under his nose, quiet enough for Alec to be unable to hear, as he scanned the tall bookshelf.
Eventually, Magnus stood up on his toes to be able to reach a thick volume. âHere.â He dusted off the cover, just in case, then handed the book to Alec. It felt heavy, and the only decoration on the red cover were thick, black letters.
âTo my Alice. On how to find yourself.â Alec read the title aloud, then looked up from the book.
âI know, itâs very unusual.â Magnus glanced at the cover again. âIt had been brought here, a few years ago, by a person who had found it in their attic. He had no idea who Alice was, and the author isnât mentioned anywhere, but it looks to be a collection of letters, written on a typewriter. I know the volume isnât exactly college-student friendly. Especially when you are busy. But I have read a few letters, and I seriously recommend them. Maybe itâs not a conventional way to deal with artist block, but I really hope it can help you.â
Alec just looked at him, silent.
âI could just find some books on sculpture or photography for you? Or about the zero waste movement?â Maybe he had taken it too far. He had called whatever state Alec had been in an âartist blockâ, and suggested he read what looked to be an old coaching book. Great. But he had thought they had something...deeper going between them. Apparently, he had been the only one who had felt it. âLook, Iâm sorry if I overstepped some boundariesâŚâ
âNo.â Alec cut in, his voice barely above the whisper. âThis is a great suggestion. I hope it can truly get me unstuck.â
And they just stood there, for what felt like eternity, eyes locked together. One artist bearing their soul to the other. It was always a magical moment, full of vulnerability and trust, but this time, it felt like something more. A âThank you for understanding.â, on both sides. âThank you for no laughing at me.â
Neither of them had realised, when they had gotten closer, but suddenly their faces were only inches apart.
Alec was the one to break the silence.
Magnus searched his face for something, anything - he wanted to say yes, but didnât know id they wanted the same thing. For him, one kiss wouldnât be enough. He wanted to get to know Alec better, to go out with him, find out his favorite sitcom, and his stance on dog versus cat. He wanted to learn, and learn, until there will be no new informations.
âOr I could take you out first? If this is what you want, that is. You may say no to both things. Sorry.â Alec was already backing away from him, and Magnus couldnât afford to lose that opportunity.
âYes, kiss me. And I know a perfect place for the first date.â
Alecâs blinding smile was the last thing Magnus had seen before closing his eyes. The other man kissed the same way he had interacted with Magnus - at first, shy. Just a brush of lips. Then another, and another, until their lips stayed pressed together. Neither of them knew who had started moving their lips again, but they kept kissing, not being able to pull apart. Magnus could feel Alecâs teeth grazing his bottom lip, before the man grabbed onto his vest, and made a move to push him back against the bookshelf.
Before Magnusâ back could collide with anything, Alec broke the kiss. Magnus was very aware of the wall of books behind him, and wished Alec could finish what he had started - an image of being pressed against a bookshelf, with Alec pinning his body there while they kissed, wasnât exactly an unpleasant one. But he understood it was neither time nor place for such things.
Magnus leaned in, to steal one more kiss, before he covered Alecâs hands with his own. âYour tea should still be warm. Want to finish our drinks, before we exchange numbers?â
Magnus didnât believe Alecâ smile could get any wider, but here he was, proving him wrong. âIâd love to.â
