A Lesson In Romantics

The library is silent when Derek approaches the front desk. More so than usual. The sun has long set beyond the tinted glass windows and the clock on the wall is telling him it's just past ten. With a resigned sigh, Derek runs a hand through his hair. He figures he'll do one more walk-through, just to make sure there are no late-night stragglers still hanging around before he closes up.

Sure enough, at a table near the reference section, is a man. His head is down as he pores over the books spread out on the table before him. A pen in his hand taps anxiously against the page of a notebook before he scribbles something down, and then fumbles for a highlighter to mark it again.

"Hey," Derek calls when he's a few feet away. "We're closed."

The kid doesn't even move.

Derek reaches out, tapping on his shoulder. The stranger flails, gasps dramatically, and spins to gape at Derek with wide brown eyes. "Holy shit, dude," He exclaims, but like quietly. A whispered exclamation. He pulls his earphones out. "Give me a fucking heart-attack, why don't you?"

"Sorry," Derek mutters, but he's kind of not because now that the stranger is looking at him, this guy isn't really a kid. He looks young, maybe nineteen or twenty, but he's gorgeous. His eyes have gone back to a normal size, but his lips stay parted in a way that Derek can't stop staring at. He tries to avert his gaze and ends up staring at the moles on the guy's neck instead. Fuck. "Umm... We're closing," Derek says, and then silently applauds himself for forming words.

The stranger frowns. "Shit, already?" He checks the time and then runs a few fingers through his hair. "Yeah, okay. I'm sorry. I guess I lost track of time."

Derek tilts his head to look at the books strewn across the table while the other man starts closing them. There seems to be no order to the mess and that intrigues Derek. There's a book on Greek Mythology, another one that has fancy golden words that don't even look English adorning the front, and one that has a picture of an atom.

"Finals," The stranger explains, catching Derek's gaze. "They're not for another two weeks, but I'm trying to get as much studying done as possible between actual classwork and work and... stuff."

Derek can't help the way his brow furrows, not able to stop himself when he blurts out, "What kind of classes are you taking, dude?"

The kid chuckles. "The mythology's just a reference for my creative writing class," He says. "Then my Latin, and Physics. Next week, I'm focusing on my social studies, which is about as fun as it sounds, and business basics."

Derek doesn't mean to gape, but he never went to college; Just hearing all of the shit this kid is studying makes his head hurt. The kid laughs again and Derek realizes he really likes that sound. "Wow." And even Derek can tell that he sounds impressed.

The kid smirks as he finishes gathering his books. "I can put them back where I got them and then I'll be out of your hair," He says.

Derek, without thinking, reaches out to touch the stranger's wrist. Then, realizing what he did, jerks his hand back, flushing. Why is he so nervous? He clears his throat. "No, it's okay. I mean, I can put them away. It's my job anyway."

The other man shakes his head. "No, dude. It's no problem." But when he sees Derek isn't budging, he sighs. "Fine. But at least least let me help."

And Derek can't really say no to that.

Over the next few weeks, the man returns to the library every day. And each day that Derek works, he finds every reason he can to talk to him. He learns that the kid's name is Stiles. He's just shy of turning twenty and he's finishing up his first year of online college. "It's easier online," Stiles explains one time. "I can stay close to home and my dad, and it's easier to fit in online courses between work and stuff."