Words: 1.5k (multichap, iāll 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. Itās 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. Heās always loved books, and heās always dreamed of working at a library. It just isnāt 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 āwow-I-work-at-a-library-and-this-is-straight-out-of-a-romance-novelā 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 donāt see him.
Pope, unfortunately, is not a very lucky person.
Heās 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 takeās JJās 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.
āHey, P,ā JJ smiles- all teeth, no eyes. Fake for the sake of charm. āI didnāt know you work here.ā
Pope grimaces. āEnough with the nicknames, please.ā
āIsnāt Pope already a nickname?ā 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 otherās blood cold.
āNo feet on the table,ā Pope almost-sneers, swiping at the blondās boots. āYou arenāt even reading anything. Why are you here?ā
JJ holds a hand to his heart. āIām totally reading.ā He reaches across the table, picking up an old-looking textbook for their history class. āStudying, actually. Why donāt you join me?ā
Pope narrows his eyes. āSeriously? Bye, JJ.ā
āWait!ā the blond calls as Pope turns. āI need help studying, okay? I came here for some quiet, but I canāt concentrate. I just- Iām gonna fail midterms if I donāt get this done. Iām already behind in, like, a bajillion classes. Please, man.ā
Pope pauses. āIf you wanna pass, you should stop fucking around in class. I see you with John B in the back. Youāre super annoying, by the way. Some of us are here to, like, get college degrees, so we can get jobs. Weāre not all trust-fund sons here on Daddyās money.ā
āIām not rich, if thatās what youāre implying,ā JJ scoffs, looking almost offended.
Pope shakes his head. āNo way you got here on a scholarship.ā
āOkay, I wonāt take any offence from that,ā JJ says. āYou make a fair point. The dean paid for my tuition. A special, 100% discount. Just for me.ā
Pope furrows his eyebrows. āWhat, did you blackmail her? Did you sell her meth or something?ā
āSheās my mom, dude. Chill,ā JJ laughs.
Pope tries to ignore the way his stomach flutters when JJ laughs. āSo you are rich,ā he deadpans.
JJ rolls his eyes. āNah, 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.ā
Pope canāt help the way that piques his interest. āReally? I grew up on the coast there, I visited the Outer Banks a few times.ā He shuffles his feet, his posture relaxing by the tiniest degree. āHow is your mom the dean here, though? Sheās been at this school, for, like, decades.ā
āFifteen years, actually,ā JJ corrects, pointing a finger. āCan you help me study now? Iāll 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?ā
āA mortician,ā Pope replies. āIām really into forensic scien-ā
āA mortician?ā JJ interrupts, a laugh strung along with his words. āWhat the fuck? Thatās the grossest shit ever. I thought morticians were people who just, like, failed at being real-people doctors.ā
Pope grits his teeth. āDead people are real people. Itās a respectable and interesting science. You probably wanna be a MacDonaldās worker or something, anyway.ā
āA MacDonaldās worker?ā JJ scoffs, holding a hand to his chest āPope, Iām offended! Am I not currently attending this prestigious university? The very same one that you attend?ā
Pope raises his eyebrows, his head tilting downwards. āYeah, but my mom isnāt the dean. I think we got in for vastly different reasons.ā
āVastly different- Pope! Why must you injure me so? My pride, itās just⦠falling apart, at your very feet!ā JJ exclaims, throwing his head back and rocking in his chair. He pauses, palm resting upwards on his forehead in a dramatic pose. āWill you pick it up for me? Itās just- itās right over there. I donāt think I could manage.ā He motions to the floor, where the sun highlights a soft rainfall of dust.
Pope scowls. āFuck you, JJ. You can study by yourself.ā He turns on his heel, his blood pumping unsteadily in his ears.
He hears a clatter behind him. āWait, Pope! Shit, one second-ā thereās another few crashes, sounds Pope doesnāt want to dignify with his eyes. āPope, man, come on. Do me a favour.ā JJ pauses, the library falling silent for one small, sweet moment. āPlease?ā
Pope presses his palms to his eyes and exhales sharply before turning around. āWhy should I help you? Youāre annoying, youāre rude, you donāt care about school-ā he looks past JJās shoulder, where his chair is tipped over next to a pile of fallen books. ā-and youāve made a mess in my library, that I have to clean up.ā
āIāll clean that up. I promise.ā 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. āWhy do you even need help?ā
JJ stares for a moment, eyes trailing along the shelf behind Popeās head, as if avoiding his gaze. āIām dyslexic.ā
Pope nearly laughs. āSo? Dysexic people can read. And study. I donāt see the problem.ā
āYeah, but I didnāt-ā JJ pauses, motioning vaguely with his hand. āI didnāt, like, learn how to.ā
Pope tilts his head. Heās trying his best to look condescending, but heās afraid heās failing miserably. āYour mother is the dean. The college has plenty of resources that can help you more than I can. Your old schools should have, too.ā
āMy old schools?ā JJ repeats, eyebrows raised. āPope, bro, you should know me well enough to know I never went there. And my mom doesnāt know, so I canāt use the āresourcesā she apparently has anyway.ā
Pope scoffs. āYour mom, the dean, doesnāt know that youāre dyslexic? Are you seriously making a learning disorder up just to annoy me?ā
āI am not!ā JJ exclaims, brow furrowing. A few strands of hair fall in front of his eyes, making Popeās mouth go dry. āI was diagnosed in, like, the third grade. But my mom doesnāt know. And she canāt know.ā
āWhy not?ā Pope asks. His voice catches, and heās ready to drop dead if he doesnāt compose himself.
JJ waves his hand. āIt doesnāt matter. But I have to pass if I wanna stay here. Can you just- help me out? Just this once?ā He interlocks his fingers, twisting them uncomfortably, his purple knuckles flexing as his fingers twist. āI wonāt bother you again. I promise.ā
Pope considers running away for a moment. Just- running away. Turning on his heel and abandoning his responsibilities. But heās getting paid minimum wage to be here, in this too-loud, too-messy, too-annoying library, and heās worked hard for it. To be at this school, to be in this very building.
And JJ, the apparent son of the dean, wouldnāt be a bad person to get behind. Perhaps heās 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 heās the son of the dean, and Pope wouldnāt mind being on her good side.
āWill you put in a good word for me? To your mom?ā he asks. He may as well take advantage of the opportunity.
JJ seems taken aback. āYeah! Yeah, of course, of course. Iāll tell her all about you, put a good word in. And youāll help me?ā
Pope sighs. He clenches his teeth, jaw working as he hesitates to reply. After a considerable silence, he speaks. āFine. But- donāt be annoying, okay? And stop rocking in your chair, youāll break it.ā
JJ grins, eyes sparkling, and runs a hand through his hair. āGreat, man. I have my history book with me now, but if youāre still working I can, like, chill out. Or whatever.ā He smiles, properly this time, like heās been saving it until now.
Pope is definitely going to regret this.