Work Text:
It’s 9:30 pm and David settles in for a long study session. He arranges everything just so on the desk he’s seated behind. He takes his laptop out from his black leather messenger bag and puts it directly in front of him. He sets his extra large caramel macchiato, skim, two sweeteners to the right of his laptop, but not too close in case of a spill. The barista even got the sprinkle of cocoa powder just right tonight. Thank god for that. Next is the black leather-bound notebook off to the left and proper black gel ink pen right beside it. He pulls his chair forward and tucks his legs under the desk, planting his feet on the ground. Ergonomics are an important consideration for him too, especially considering how long he’s probably going to be sitting in the same spot.
The second floor of Robarts Library has a relatively new study area and that’s where he’s staked his claim to this particular section of a large communal desk. There’s space beyond the sizable wooden desk for others to study in more individual spots, but he much prefers being able to spread out all of his stuff as much as he needs, despite the possibility that others may also share the desk. The chairs are quite far apart from one another, so no one can really encroach in his personal space too much. Just the way he likes it.
David’s art history midterm is tomorrow, so it’s crucial that he gets his notes in order for that and he has a paper due for ‘Contemporary Art Movements: Art, Nature and the Logic of the Aesthetic’ by Friday so he has a ridiculously long list of work he needs to get done here. He needs to focus. He puts in his AirPods, starts his Ultimate Study Playlist and looks at the clock on his screen. It’s 9:58 pm and he hasn’t done anything other than setup his stuff. Shit. Okay, time to focus for real.
Surprisingly, he actually manages to concentrate on his work after that, completing his notes for the exam and getting more than half of his paper written. It’s taken a chocolate hazelnut croissant, the entire extra large caramel macchiato (and two trips to the bathroom), but he’s achieved a significant amount of what he wanted to accomplish tonight. He looks at the time again, which blinks back ‘2:42 am’ at him. Shit. He’s completely lost track of time.
He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands as the tiredness sets in considering he now knows how late it is. He really needs to get home and get some sleep before the midterm at 11. David finds his vision a bit blurry and he hurriedly moves to save his work and shut down his laptop. As he does, he misclicks and hits the X in the top right corner. The window containing all 17 pages of his paper closes down and the laptop screen turns black. No. Absolutely not. There’s no way that just happened.
“FUCK!!!!” David yells, assuming he’s alone.
Apparently he has assumed wrong, because a guy dressed in a cobalt blue henley and dark wash jeans strolls up to him, looking unusually awake considering the lateness of the hour. “Hey,” he says from right beside him. David looks around and sees the rest of the study area is completely empty. As he turns back, he finds himself at eye-level with the man’s crotch, facing only a hideous brown braided belt neatly tucked into the belt loops of his jeans and promptly looks away, feeling a bit awkward.
The man chuckles a bit too loudly and the sound reverberates off the walls a little. “Did you think I was talking to someone else?”
David is careful to try and look at the man’s face this time. “Uh, nope. I guess not.”
“Is something wrong?” the guy asks with an earnest look of concern on his face.
“No...I mean, yes…” David can’t seem to keep his hands from flailing all over the place and given the close proximity, he’s honestly worried he might smack the other man’s sturdy thighs by accident. Not that he was looking. “Ugh, everything’s fine. It’s fine.”
The look of concern on the man’s moonish face has now been replaced by a wry grin. “You don’t seem particularly confident in that. Final answer?” Apparently he wasn’t as good at hiding it as he thought. Damn.
“Who are you anyways, the host of Who Wants to be a Millionaire?” David retorts.
The guy smirks, looking cocky as he responds, “Yes, I’m a game show host, just hanging out in the university library all night long, waiting for unsuspecting students to trick into answering useless trivia on camera.”
David can’t help but roll his eyes. “That actually isn’t the worst premise for a game show I’ve heard.”
“I’ll let the producers know. So why did you yell profanities to the entire second floor earlier?”
“Well, it wasn’t really to the entire second floor, no one was here.”
“I was here.”
David’s just about had enough of this guy and his attempts at witty remarks.
“Apparently. But I assumed I was alone.”
“You know what they say about assumptions…”
David refuses to let this ridiculous man finish this ridiculous saying. He tips his head back and shakes out his hands, interrupting him before he can get the words out. “Nope. Nope, nope, nope.”
The guy laughs and David finds he doesn’t completely hate it. “Fine. You win. So what’s wrong?”
David does like to win and the guy clad in mid-range denim standing in front of him does seem to genuinely care about the answer so he decides to answer candidly.
“I was working on a big paper and I lost track of time and then clicked the X by accident and I think I lost the entire thing. Seventeen pages down the drain. And I have a midterm this morning which means I won’t be getting any sleep at this rate and I won’t have the time to rewrite the entire paper before the due date and I’m totally, completely screwed.” And in his typical fashion, the candid confession has turned into a full-on spiral.
Before he can say anything more, the man has already sat down in the chair beside him, inching a bit closer. He spins David’s laptop around to face him and has his thick fingers perched above the keyboard. Who the fuck does this guy think he is, touching his new MacBook anyways?
As if he was reading his mind, the next words out of the man’s plush lips are, “Don’t worry. I’m on the library’s IT team. I get paid to help other students with their tech issues. You may have seen our booth at the back of the fourth floor?” David shrugs. He had no idea the library offered tech assistance to students, but he’ll definitely be remembering that now.
The helpful tech guy stops tapping on the keys for a moment and swivels back to face him. “I’m Patrick, by the way.”
David sputters a bit as he introduces himself in return. “Uh...hi...David. I mean, I’m David.”
Patrick turns back to the computer, ignoring the little slip up. “Well, David, we normally close at 9 pm. 3 am is a bit outside of our normal working hours but I can make an exception this one time.” He swears he sees Patrick’s eyes flicker to his face quickly and back at the screen as he quips.
David tries to follow the various keystrokes and clicks that he’s doing on the screen, but he’s really having a hard time concentrating on anything other than the toned forearms in front of him, now that Patrick has rolled up his sleeves to his elbows.
He reclines back in his chair, gawking at Patrick in a way that he hopefully doesn’t notice, wondering if he is just groggy from being overtired or if Patrick is just really fucking sexy.
“Is this it?” Patrick’s soft voice breaks him out of his middle-of-the-night daydreaming. David tries to focus on the document Patrick’s pulled up on the screen.
HOLY. SHIT.
“What?” And apparently he’s said that out loud.
“You did it.” David whispers, remembering for a hot second that he’s in the middle of a library. But he immediately stops caring and yells, “You fucking did it!” He points at the screen. “My paper! You found it! You brought it back!!!”
“Yes David, I recovered your file,” the little shit says in the dorkiest yet snarkiest voice ever. He still doesn’t hate it. “And don’t worry, this one’s on the house.” Patrick makes an atrocious attempt at winking. David cannot believe he actually might like this guy?
“Well, aren’t you generous?” David tucks his own smirk well into his cheek. “Seriously though, thank you, Patrick. You saved my life. I owe you one.” That’s about his maximum sincerity level, so he hopes Patrick appreciates it.
Patrick’s confidence now seems to be replaced with bashfulness, as he dips his head down a little, looking up at David with a shy hint of a smile. “Actually well...I’ll take your number in exchange for that...if that’s okay with you?”
David can’t help but feel delighted in this moment. He makes grabby hands in Patrick’s direction. “Sure. Give me your phone.” Patrick passes it over, beaming.
He takes the opportunity to add his number as a contact in the phone under ‘David Rose’, knowing full well that would allow Patrick to Google him if he felt so inclined. Something about this charismatic, self-assured man intrigues him and for some frustrating reason, also makes him trust him.
David hands back the phone, taking the opportunity to rest his hand atop Patrick’s thigh as he does. It’s even stronger and more muscular than he would have guessed. He takes a risk, giving it a light squeeze as he makes eye contact, smiling at Patrick, and it pays off. Patrick’s eyes flash back with a twinkle and his face illuminates with happiness. A sight that is well worth the lack of sleep David is going to be feeling after all of the adrenaline wears off. He can always sleep in tomorrow, at least until after 10am.