Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Stede sighed, stuffing the phone back into his pocket as he shouldered in the front door of his shop. He’d had a feeling when he woke up this morning that something was off, a niggling in the back of his brain that something was on the horizon. It was never anything good when Father reached out, only condescension and demands couched as requests and non-disguised disappointment.

“Oh come on, my display is not that bad.”

Lucius pouted next to the table he’d set up full of romance novels with semi-nude men on the covers, captioned ‘Have You Seen My Shirt?’ Stede had forgotten he’d delegated the new month’s display to Lucius. Perhaps not his wisest decision.

“Where did you even find these?” Stede frowned. “This hasn’t been the cover art style for ages. These books must be at least ten years old.”

“Yeah.” Lucius rolled his eyes. “I’m helping you clear out some of the truly atrocious backlist titles you’ve got piled in that weird storage closet. People will laugh, instagram it, and that'll send more folks over to the shop. Win win.”

Five years ago his father had finally accepted that Stede was simply no use to Bonnet Wine Group, despite the decades “wasted” on him (due to a quirk in genetics, Stede’s palate was quite sensitive and as such, he didn’t enjoy the taste of alcohol. Ironically, he’d most likely inherited this from his father’s side of the family. Edward Bonnet did not find this funny.) Stede had used his newfound freedom to purchase a secondhand bookstore in his hometown of Auckland. Mr. Martin was ready to retire “properly,” as he’d put it, and gave Stede a fairly good deal for the shop and all its stock.

The problem was that Mr. Martin hadn’t been so choosy when taking those secondhand book donations and Stede found himself with a cute little shop filled floor to ceiling with manuals for old appliances, guidemaps that were twenty years out of date, and so many copies of 50 Shades of Grey. It was a disaster.

Stede had told the staff they were welcome to stay on but only one took him up on it, an Andrew French, or Frenchie, who mostly hung around in the back and strummed a guitar in the way someone at a party would, with false modesty and a clear desire for someone to ask him about it. Which was fine, Stede supposed, but he needed a little bit more help than that. Which is where John Feeney, Frenchie’s roommate, Ajani Roach, who’d followed him from the local coffee shop, and Lucius Spriggs, the only person who turned up after he placed a help wanted ad on the local university’s job search page, came in.

John was lovely, a kind man, fond of knitting, and generally pretty helpful around the place. He knew his craft books and was happy to help move and unpack boxes as long as he could spend the rest of his shift chilling in the back and working on whatever project was currently up, half the time distracting Frenchie from his nonsense in a two for one deal.

Ajani Roach, or just Roach as he preferred, used to be the barista at the coffee shop Stede stopped by on his way into his terrible job in the mornings. When he’d mentioned that he was leaving his job and buying a bookstore that had a cafe attached, Roach had made it clear he was interested in moving on from his current gig into something that gave him a little more freedom, something Stede could easily offer. Now the shop always had great coffee and whatever Roach had decided to whip up that morning. Currently he was on a soup kick which everyone was greatly enjoying.

Lucius was a whole other story. A graduate student in communications and marketing that somehow seemed to never do a bit of research or work, Lucius basically lived at The Open Book now, when he wasn’t busy lazing about either his boyfriend Pete’s apartment or Stede’s flat around the corner from the shop. He was smart, chatty, and told Stede a few days after he’d hired him that Stede was ‘so pathetic’ that Lucius was making him his new ‘project’. It had felt bad at the time, of course it had, but it seemed to have inspired a kind of loyalty in the younger man unlike anything Stede had ever known.

In all honesty Stede had never had a lot of friends. He was friendly with people, sure, but folks hanging around with him because they genuinely wanted to be there? Not so much. So having a little crew of misfits surrounding him, laughing with (and occasionally at) him was something new and wonderful.

Wonderful was most certainly not whatever his father wanted to talk about.

“Earth to Stede. What’s going on in that noggin?”

Stede blinked and looked up to see Lucius looking at him curiously, never a promising sign. He must have been zoning out worse than usual.

“Nothing, nothing. Do you know if John’s unpacked the S and S box that came today? There was a special order in there I wanted to grab.”

Though they were mostly secondhand, Stede made sure to order a small amount of frontlist items and special orders every month, both to have an excuse for more events (Stede loved an event) and to indulge adding more things to his own personal library. It also helped fill in the gaps from the amount of constant weeding of not exactly flying off the shelves donations he’d inherited from Mr. Martin. They were getting close to seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, however. Soon, The Open Book would be as close as possible to Stede’s vision.

“Can I get some help in here?!”

Within a few moments, the entire staff of The Open Book surrounded the small kitchen, Frenchie opening the door to the back patio to let the smoke drift out. Roach, splattered and miserable, frowned down at what was once the espresso machine.

“Stede, you need to buy me another espresso machine. This one is cursed.”

Stede frowned. “I don’t think it’s cursed. Maybe broken? I could take it to the shop down the street, maybe they could—”

“Cursed,” Frenchie agreed from the doorway. “Definitely. No one should be drinking anything out of that until we can get it blessed.”

“And fixed,” John added.

“Or you can just buy a new one,” Lucius smirked from where he leaned on the counter, arms crossed in that jaunty way of his that said he knew so much more than you. “Pete’s got a part time down at The Warehouse, bet he could get you a deal.”

“Yes, fine,” Stede sighed, not ready to fight over it. “You lot figure out what you want. Under two hundred, alright? We may sell coffee but this isn’t a coffee shop.”

Roach put a hand to his chest, affronted.

“Now, who has seen the S and S box?” Stede turned to John. “Have you unpacked it yet?”

“Just opened it before I heard Roach squawking,” John shrugged. “Should be sitting on the counter in the unpacking closet.”

“Thank you,” Stede nodded. “Now, can we get back to opening the store? Please?”

The four mumbled but nodded, Lucius headed to the front while John and Frenchie helped Roach clean up the spot upon which once rested an espresso machine. With a shake of his head, Stede made his way to the unpacking closet.

It wasn’t exactly a closet per say, more a little nook they’d strung a curtain in front of so whoever was unpacking (which, nine times out of ten, was John) had a bit of privacy while sorting each day or week’s delivery of new books. It was perhaps a bit small for the man who spent the most time in it but John preferred to be out of the public eye when doing this bit and it was a cozy nook. Stede stepped inside and pulled the curtain closed behind him.

Just like John had said, the box sat open but still fully packed on the counter. Stacks of books from the Penguin and Harper boxes were piled high on the back counter, waiting for their Simon and Schuster brethren. Stede leaned forward, pushing the box’s flaps aside and shuffling the books around until he could find what he was looking for.

He tried not to advertise it but Stede was a sucker for a good rom com. The slow dance of two people growing closer, falling for each other. The supportive friends. The way the leads usually began to deal with their own issues while learning to rely on the other for help. The rocky road to a happy ending, every time. Sure, other books could explore the depths of human emotion, could create brand new worlds and adventures and fantasies for the ages, but at the end of the day, nothing beat three hundred pages of falling in love.

With a sigh, he tucked the book under his arm and made his way back to the front counter, loath to leave Lucius on his own for too long.

“What’ve you got there?” Lucius asked, eyebrow raised as he watched Stede stash the book in his cubby hole behind the register.

“Special order for Mrs. Abbot,” Stede lied easily, as he had done with every book he’d ordered over the past four years. “I’ll have to call her and let her know it’s in.”

“Right,” Lucius rolled his eyes and sank into one of the big cozy armchairs by the front window. “You know, for someone who doesn’t exist, Mrs. Abbot sure does get a lot of reading done.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Stede ignored him, turning on their point of sale iPad as he pulled up the inventory software on the computer next to the register. “Before you curl up, could you at least unlock the front door?”

“You’re a stern taskmaster, Bonnet.” Lucius raised himself up with a dramatic sigh like he was a hundred years old and not the youngest person in the shop, making his way over to the front door where he turned the lock. Opening the door and poking his head out, he must have determined the weather was warm enough because he propped the door open as he flipped the sign.

The day passed slowly, though, as it was a Thursday just after the holidays, Stede hadn’t been expecting a rush or anything. John and Frenchie were putzing around in the back, in theory putting away some cookbooks but in reality, knitting and brainstorming lyrics. Roach had closed slightly early so he could run down to the shops and investigate espresso machine choices. Stede anticipated paying slightly more than he wanted for whatever the man chose but honestly, it was fine. Sometimes it was more about the illusion of power. Lucius was curled up in one of the chairs, playing on his phone and chirping at Stede every once in a while while Stede read the latest Publisher’s Weekly reviews on the computer.

It would be a cozy afternoon if his phone wasn’t still burning a hole in his pocket. Every hour or so, he felt it buzz, the phantom of his father’s presence slowly pressing down on his shoulders. He knew he couldn’t avoid him forever; he’d probably finally call him after they closed. If there was one thing his father could respect, it was the excuse of a hard day’s work. Sure, maybe this little bookshop wasn’t his father’s idea of success but it was one of the few feet he could stand on with him.

“You okay up there, Cap?” Lucius asked from the chair, looking at him over the top of his phone. “That was quite the sigh.”

“Just someone giving the new Patterson a five star review,” Stede lied, not wanting to explain everything to Lucius. The boy was perceptive enough on his own, he didn’t need a deeper look into Stede’s many personal failings. “I thought these trade reviews were better than that.”

Lucius frowned, his brow slightly furrowed as he gave Stede the once over. Stede did his best to look inconspicuous which might have been more hurt than help. Ultimately, Lucius just shrugged.

“Whatever you say. But you know you can talk to me about stuff if you want, right?”

Now it was Stede’s turn to frown. “Lucius, I’m your boss.”

“Well, yeah. Technically.” Lucius rolled his eyes. “But, I dunno, you’re more like my weird dad?” A pause. “Yeah, no, pretend I didn’t say that.”

Stede laughed, surprised at how pleased he was feeling at Lucius’s non-admission.

“Anyway,” Lucius continued, ignoring Stede, “the point is that I,” he fake gagged, “care about you and if you ever need genius advice from the smartest person in this place, well, I’m right here.”

Lucius looked incredibly uncomfortable after that remark, eyes darting everywhere but Stede’s face, and Stede couldn’t help the incredible wave of affection he felt for him, for all the staff of The Open Book. He still wasn’t used to this friends thing, learning on the go in his mid-thirties a rough prospect, but he was doing his best.

“Thank you, Lucius,” he said and he meant it. “I’m alright right now but I’ll keep that in mind.”

Lucius hummed, an acknowledgement without having to continue the moment, the apples of his cheeks flushed bright pink. Stede simply chuckled and went back to his computer, successfully distracted for the rest of the afternoon.

If there was one thing The Open Book staff was good at, it was closing. Stede tried to run a tight ship and that meant making sure no one had to stay later than they absolutely needed to. Someone always started sweeping around 5:45, Roach usually closed up shop around 5:30 to give himself time to clean up, and when it came time to properly close everything, usually the only thing left to do was balance the till. Stede didn’t mind staying since he lived so close and the others were always happy to wave him goodbye as they filed out and went off to enjoy their actual lives. It usually took between ten and thirty minutes to balance the register, depending on how many mistakes they’d made throughout the day, though they’d become less common.

And then Stede took himself home.

His typical evenings consisted of stopping at the little corner grocery between the shop and his flat, grabbing a few things to throw together for dinner, and then an evening of reading, television, or even sometimes, if he was feeling a bit daring, video games. He’d discovered visual novels two years ago and the idea of playing a video game that was basically reading appealed to him so much that he’d spent the past year or so making his way through as many as he could. He was especially fond of the ones where you had to solve the mystery by playing through several times, gaining clues by dating different people.

If a stranger had walked into Stede’s apartment, filled to the brim with books (though mostly romance novels) and games (though mostly romance visual novels), they’d probably get the impression that Stede was a hopeless romantic. And they wouldn’t be wrong. Stede would happily disappear into a rom com, a mystery where the two leads fell in love as they unraveled the case, a science fiction story that had world building and the dangers of technology and two people falling in love while figuring out how to deal with their situation. There was truly nothing better.

Walking into his apartment that evening, he happily placed his new book on the end table of his couch, excited to start it after he ate a quick dinner. It didn’t look too long; he’d probably have it finished by tomorrow. He hurried into his small kitchen, making a quick sandwich and grabbing some crisps, not feeling like making anything more elaborate. Honestly, he rarely felt like making anything that took more than twenty minutes. There just never seemed much of a point. It was just him, after all.

Plating his dinner up, he walked it into his living room, deciding what he wanted to watch as he ate. Maybe there was a new episode of Taskmaster?

Before he could pull up the search on his computer, however, that dreaded phone buzzed from next to him. Had he really managed to forget he had to call his father? With a sigh, he picked up the phone.

He’d put it off long enough, he supposed. Better to get it over with. As he thumbed through his phone, pulling up his father’s number, he idly wondered what this was about. Edward Bonnet rarely contacted his only son, especially after he’d left the company. He was a disappointment, better to be swept under the rug than acknowledged. As the phone rang, he figured he probably had to sign something. He was sure there were still a few accounts that were in his name. Something about liabilities. He didn’t mind as long as he was mostly left alone.

“Took you long enough,” his father answered, icy disinterest lacing his voice from the jump. Lovely. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you since this morning.”

“I was at my shop, Father.” He hated that, despite everything, the very sound of his father’s voice immediately made him feel like a little boy again, craving and terrified of his attention in equal measure. “This was the first I could get away.”

“Yes, I’m sure your little bookstore was incredibly busy.” The disdain dripped from his words. Stede couldn’t help a little flinch. “No matter. I was calling to tell you I need you to keep March 30th free.”

Stede frowned. What on earth?

“Yes, that should be fine.” He used his shoulder to hold the phone against his ear as he pulled his paper planner out of his shoulder bag, flipping to March which, of course, was wide open. “What am I keeping the day open for?”

Edward Bonnet didn’t even pause.

“Your wedding.”