Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

David loves his job.  He loves the quiet little used bookstore on its quiet little street, loves their weird little kid regulars who are slowly tearing their way through every age-appropriate book they’ve got and their weird adult regulars doing the same. He loves his coworkers – Benny, who’s quiet, and Race, who’s very loud – and he loves the coffee shop down the street.

The coffee shop is small, independently owned, and never particularly busy at the times when David makes it over there. He keeps weird hours, though, since he’s usually the opener at the bookshop but that’s still later than their early morning rush (and before their late morning one). Everyone along this little street of small businesses comes to this coffee shop, so the baristas know David well, but so do the girls from the mom-and-pop hardware store on the corner and the guys from the bead store next door and Jack from the art store.

Jack is another reason David loves his job. They aren’t coworkers, obviously, but Delancey’s Art Supply faces Yesterday’s News and David and Jack can see each other through the front windows of their respective shops. When they’d first realized this, they’d started goofing off to make each other laugh, which turned into elaborate silent conversations across the street, supplemented by occasional normal human conversations at Caffeine Diem.

(Jack keeps Delancey’s afloat. He’s not the owner, but he is the only full timer they have who actually knows what he’s talking about and how to run anything. David doesn’t know much about art supplies himself, but he knows the other two full time employees well enough from personal experience and Jack’s stories to know that.)

“Are you done with your weird mating ritual yet? I need somebody tall to do the rest of the restock,” Benny says.

David startles, though he isn’t surprised when he turns around that Benny is perched on the counter watching him.

“I’ve done everything but the top shelves,” Benny continues, pointing toward a box of books with his foot. “You’re welcome.”

“What are you talking about?” says David.

“Books?” says Benny. He hops down, crossing to stand close to David and squint up at him. “Babydoll, we work in a bookstore.”

“No, when you asked about my ‘weird mating ritual,’” David says. He drags his fingers through his hair for lack of anything better to do with his hands.

Benny cocks his head to one side, considering. “David, I have no idea if you’re fucking with me or not.”

“I was just talking to Jack, from the art store,” replies David.

“Yeah,” Benny says. His eyes are narrowed, and he’s frowning like he’s trying to solve a puzzle that’s on David’s face. “Through two windows and across a street, using an elaborate made-up sign language that only the two of you know.”

“Right.”

Benny stares at him for a long moment, then nods firmly like he’s figured something out. “Right. Okay. Well, if you’re done with not flirting with Jack through two windows and across a street using the elaborate made-up sign language that only you two know, there are books for tall people that need shelving.”

David laughs and gets to work. He isn’t flirting with Jack on purpose, but – well, he can’t deny that he isn’t not flirting with Jack. He’s letting things happen as they’re going to happen, trying not to worry about it too much. He hasn’t always been good at that, not worrying, but he has been trying a lot of new things lately.

He’s lived here since finishing college, when he’d been a bit adrift and looking for something to do that didn’t make him feel like he was drowning. He’d happened on this suburb and its just-out-of-downtown district still populated with smaller businesses by complete chance, and found his bright, bold little house a mile and a half away by pure luck. David counts himself so lucky to have found this place and these people when he did. He doesn’t talk to his family much, between his parents disapproving of the giant breakdown and subsequent departure from his field of study and his siblings both being so different in age to him, but he’s content.

He's got his job which he loves, he’s got his funny little group of friends, and he’s got whatever is going on with Jack, and David is happy.

“I’ve just realized I don’t know any normal stuff about you,” Jack says later, after about twenty minutes of arguing over whether orange is a normal favorite color to have. “Like, we talk all the time but I don’t even know if you have any siblings.”

“Two,” David says with a little laugh. “I have two, but we don’t talk. Sarah is six years older and Les is seven-ish years younger, so we’re – none of us are close. Do you? Have siblings, I mean?”

Jack shrugs. “Nah, I’m an only. But I’m smack in the middle of the pack for a generation of, like, 24 cousins.”

“24?” David echoes. “You have 24 first cousins?”

“I have twenty-three first cousins,” Jack corrects, amused. “I count toward the total, you know. But yeah, my dad’s one of six, and everyone else had way more kids than my parents.”

“Wow,” says David.

“Yeah, Spot’s one of five,” Jack replies. “You know her and Hotshot, obviously, but they’ve got three more baby sisters back home. And Aisling – she’s the babiest, she’s only like fifteen or something – she’s not even the youngest cousin, although she’s close."

“I don’t think I realized that you and Spot were cousins,” David says. Spot and her (oldest, apparently) sister run the hardware store with an iron fist. “You don’t look much alike.”

“She takes after her dad, I think,” says Jack. He shrugs. “She and the girls are probably the closest I have to siblings. Her mom and my dad are close.”

“Thanks for telling me,” David says, and he knows that it’s a weird response but he means it, is the thing. “It’s nice to learn some – what’d you call it? Normal stuff about you.”

Jack laughs. “You, too. What is it even like to have siblings that far apart from you in age?”

“Sarah never wanted too much to do with me when we were kids, and I didn’t really understand why until Les started getting older,” David says. He chuckles a little. “It’s like – we were too far apart to be friends. So I love them, but I genuinely don’t really know either of them as people. The last time I saw Les he really wasn’t much of a real person yet, in a way I could relate to.”

“Seven years younger, you said?” says Jack. “So he’s, like, 22? 23?”

“23, until November,” David replies. “But we haven’t really talked since he was, like, fifteen. I stopped going home midway through college, and we don’t keep in touch much.”

“And now you’ve got Racer and Benny, who may not be siblings but they’re definitely nuisances,” Jack says, clearly trying to lighten things back up a bit, “which is basically the same thing.”

David laughs. “They’re definitely that.”

Jack grins, the same way he does every time he makes David laugh. It’s wide and charming and almost hopeful, which is one of those things that makes David think maybe he’s got a chance with this guy. That smile always sends a flutter through David. He’s not sure when the right time to make a move will be, but he’s got a good feeling it might be soon.

Later, when he’s at home and on his phone despite the book that he’s been dying to read sitting two feet away from him on the coffee table, someone rings his doorbell.

It’s late for deliveries or visitors but not unreasonably so – only about 7:30, when he glances at the time – but he isn’t expecting anything. Isn’t expecting anyone.

He can see through the glass at the side of the door that there’s another car in his driveway, and he doesn’t recognize it. He can’t see the person who rang through the side window.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting when he opened the door, but it definitely wasn’t this.

David hasn’t seen Les in a few years, between him not talking to their parents and Les being a bit off the grid, but he is utterly unmistakable. He’s taller than the last time David saw him, at least of a height with David if not a little taller, and he’s grown into that height – his shoulders are broader, his jawline is a little more defined, he’s got some muscle to his arms. His hair is longer than it used to be, and he’s got a few days of scruff on his cheeks.

He's also holding a baby.

“Les?” David says, stunned, because what else is he supposed to say?

“David,” Les replies. He looks relieved – that David had answered the door, maybe, or that he’d found the right house, or something else David can’t parse?

“What are you doing here?” David blurts. It comes out blunter than he’d have liked, but he’s feeling a little off balance. Just this afternoon he was explaining to Jack that he and Les don’t really talk, and yet –

“I need – we needed a place to land for a little while,” Les says. He glances down at the sleeping baby cradled in his arms. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

David looks at his baby brother for a moment, really stopping to take him in. Les looks deeply, deeply tired, and worn out in a way that David has never seen on him. He doesn’t know why, after all this time, David would be his choice to run to, over their parents or over his friends, doesn’t know where this baby came from or who they are to Les, but he knows this:

“This was the right place.” He steps aside, letting Les and the baby into the house. “Do you have any bags or anything?”

“In the car,” Les says, nodding toward the unfamiliar vehicle parked alongside David’s. “I can get them in a bit, though.”

“Just unlock it, I can grab them for you,” says David. “Go sit down, you look like you’re about to fall over.”

“If you’re sure,” Les says slowly.

“I am.”

Les fishes his keys out of his pocket with the hand not primarily supporting the baby and clicks the button. “There’s two suitcases and a travel crib in the trunk. It’s all kinda wedged in, so if you have trouble don’t hurt yourself, I’ll come and undo my own handiwork if I have to.”

“Sit,” David repeats, waving toward his living room.

There are, in fact, two mismatched suitcases and a pack-and-play in the trunk of Les’s car. David didn’t even know that Les owned a car. One of the suitcases – the smaller one – David recognizes as being from their parents’ house, but the larger one is unfamiliar to him. It looks newer, Les must have bought it himself. The packing situation isn’t as dire as Les suggested it was, either, so it’s not that hard to get them all out and ferried just inside the front door.

Les is not sitting, when David reaches the living room, but instead pacing back and forth up and down the room making little shushing noises at the baby.

“I know you said to sit, but she just woke up again,” Les says, as if he’s read David’s mind. “Unless you’d like to walk her?”

“Sure,” says David. He doesn’t have a super strong sense of how to gauge baby ages, but he knows that this one is quite young. She can’t be more than two or three months old, if only based on David’s memory of how long it’s been since Nora Higgins was this small. “Les, who –“

“David, meet Harper,” Les says, carefully transferring the baby into his arms, “your niece.”

Chapter Text

David stares down at the baby in his arms. “Les. I am going to ask you this question one time, and if you don’t want to answer me, I swear that I’ll accept that. How did you end up with a baby?”

“The traditional way,” Les says, not meeting David’s eye. “She’s actually mine, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.”

“Okay,” says David. “One other question. Harper?”

Les huffs a little laugh.

“It’s fine,” David says quickly. “Just not what I would’ve expected you to pick.”

“I didn’t,” Les replies, amused.

“Oh,” says David. He looks at Les with a furrowed brow. “Alright, one more. Again, feel free to tell me to fuck off, but – are you two alright? Like, safe? Do I need to worry about Harper’s mom showing up at our door looking for you?”

“No, we’re – we’re safe, we’re fine,” Les says. “She’s definitely not showing back up in our lives any time soon. I just – could not keep doing what I was doing, living where I was living. But I had no plan to speak of, so it was you, Sarah, or our parents and – well. That was a no-brainer, really.”

“I’ve got –“

“David, I swear to God, if you say one more question again –“

“Fine,” says David. Harper makes a little discontented noise, and David finally picks up Les’s pacing from before. “How old is she?”

“Ten weeks,” Les answers easily. “That’s about two and a half months.”

“I’m aware,” David says. “My friends have a six-month-old, and Race was counting her age in weeks until like a month ago, even though that is insane.”

“Back up,” says Les. “You have a friend named Race? And you had the audacity to take issue with my baby being named Harper?”

“It’s a nickname,” says David.

“Right,” says Les. “So Race has a six month old.”

“With his partner, Spot.”

“You are messing with me.”

“I’m not, I swear,” David says, but he can’t help smiling. “You can come to the store tomorrow and meet Race if you want to, for proof.”

“Maybe I will,” Les says. He finally sits down, flopping heavily onto the couch. “David, how long are you willing to let me sleep on your couch while I get my life together? I need to make a plan and get a new job and find childcare, and I don’t even – I don’t even know where to start.”

“Well, first of all, I have a guest room,” David replies. “So you’re not sleeping on the couch at all, okay? And second of all, you and Harper are welcome here as long as you need to be. We’ll work it out.”

“You don’t have to promise that,” Les says. He looks tired. “I know that I’m asking a lot, showing up at your door with my baby, you don’t have to –“

“Les,” David cuts in. He pauses his walking to fix his brother with a serious look, but Harper fusses again and he resumes the motion. “When you found yourself needing a place to go, you came to me. Which means that somewhere in your head, you knew that I would have your back.”

“Well, I hoped,” says Les. “But we’ve never really been close, and I just – I know that asking you to let not just me, but my two-month-old baby daughter live in your house for an undetermined amount of time is a lot.”

“Sure,” David says, shrugging. “But you’re my baby brother, and I’ve got the space. Stay as long as you need to.”

Les tips his head back against the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “Thanks.”

“We may not be close, Les, but I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“That said, this is going to sound terrible, but I have no idea what you’ve been up to,” David says. “Aside from, uh, parenting. So I don’t know where to point you for a job.”

Les snorts. “I studied education, but I don’t need a job at a school or anything. Just… something. So I can support Harps and not haunt your house too long.”

“You could come down to Chestnut Street tomorrow,” says David. “It’s all little shops and things, someone’s always hiring. That’s where the store I where I work is.”

“Great,” Les replies. He relaxes, almost melting into the couch. “God, I am fucking wiped out. We’ve been driving for like a day and a half.”

“I can go get the guest room set up now, if you’d like,” David offers. “Does Harper need to eat or anything?”

“She will soon,” Les says, still sounding tired. “I can take her back.”

David transfers Harper carefully back into Les’s arms, then ruffles Les’s hair. “I’ll go get started on your room. Have you eaten?”

“Bout an hour ago,” Les says around a yawn. He cradles Harper against his chest, tipping his head back with his eyes shut. “Thanks, David.”

“I’ve got your back,” says David. “Hey, one more question.”

“Stop announcing your questions,” Les says. He doesn’t open his eyes. “We both know you’re not going to be done after one.”

David chuckles. “Fine. Do you care if you’re sleeping on novelty glow-in-the-dark Halloween sheets? I think they’re the only ones clean for the guest bed.”

“Dude, what?”

“The glow is pretty subtle, especially since they’ve been in the closet for a while,” says David. “The bed is a full if you’re worried about it being, like, adult sized. The sheets were a gag gift from my friends because they thought I needed more whimsy in my house or something. Actually, now that I say that out loud, they were a very serious gift from my friends because they thought I needed more whimsy –“

“David,” Les cuts in.

“What?”

“The glow-in-the-dark sheets are fine.”

David nods, letting out a slow breath. “Great.” He pauses, combing his fingers through his hair. “Do you think you’ll need anything else in the short term? For you or for Harper, anything?”

“No,” says Les. “No, I don’t think so. But thank you.”

“I’ll go get your bed ready,” David says. “Feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen, it’s right down the hall. And Les?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad that – that even though we haven’t been close in the last few years, when it came down to it you knew that you could come to me for help.”

Les smiles up at him, tired. “Yeah. Me too.”

David climbs the stairs by twos, fishing his phone out of his pocket as he goes. He’s dialing Spot before he’s really made a plan to do it.

(Spot hates texting. She’s not prone to being overly verbal at the best of times and that never translates well over text – at least on a call she can hmm and ah and make all her other little sounds that aren’t quite words but convey meaning anyway.)

“Davey, if you’re trying to get out of family dinner tomorrow, please remember that my partner will not be touching any food or cutlery,” Spot says by way of greeting.

“I am not,” David replies. “Although – oh, shit. Okay. I might be.”

“Explain.”

“My baby brother just showed up at my door.”

“Then bring him, next question.”

“Well – I was actually calling to ask if you and Racer have anything Nora’s already grown out of you’d be willing to part with?”

Spot exhales sharply on the other end of the line, and David can picture the way she pinches the bridge of her nose when her friends pull some particularly dramatic nonsense. “I cannot handle wherever this conversation is going alone. Gimme a sec, I’ve gotta track Racer down.”

There’s a shuffle and a gentle thunk as Spot must set her phone down in her quest to find Race. David puts his own phone on speaker so he can start assembling the guest bed.

He’s almost got the fitted sheet on when Spot gets back to her phone.

“Okay, babydoll, what was this I heard about needing baby shit?” Race says instead of hello. They are nothing if not a matched set.

“Yeah, to be clear, I was under the impression that your ‘baby brother’ was like 25.”

“He’s 23,” David says. “And the baby stuff is for his daughter.”

“Your 23-year-old brother showed up at your front door with a baby younger than Nora?” Race says.

“Correct.”

“Why didn’t you lead with that?” says Spot.

“For what it’s worth, you didn’t even let me say hello when you picked up the phone,” says David.

“In my defense, you aren’t allowed to wriggle out of dinner again,” says Spot. “If only because you and Jack are one mimed conversation away from getting locked in a closet together until you figure out your shit, and sitting next to each other at dinner is a lot easier for the rest of us.”

“Spot –“

“No, babydoll, she’s right,” Race cuts in.

“Anyway, yes, we do have some stuff we can pass along for baby Jacobs.”

“Thanks,” says David. “I know Les wouldn’t ask, but he doesn’t have much with him and I’m trying to think ahead.”

“So we get to meet them at dinner tomorrow, right?” asks Race.

“Probably sooner,” David says. “You’re opening tomorrow, right?”

“For sure.”

“Well, Les is tagging along to Chestnut with me so he can look for a job,” says David. He pauses for a moment to get the top sheet wedged under the foot of the mattress. “So he and Harper will be around, if you want to meet them then.”

“We’re hiring,” Spot says.

“I’ll send him your way.”

“Good,” says Spot.

“We’ll have some stuff pulled together by the time you get here for dinner,” Race adds. “How old is Harper? So we know what to grab?”

“Ten weeks,” David answers. “She’s smaller than Nora was that age, too, I think, but that might be an optical illusion since Les is probably almost a full foot taller than either of you.”

Race makes an indistinct squawk of protest, but Spot just says, “Yeah, fair. We’ll take a look around.”

“Thanks,” says David. “Hey, do you think the red blanket or the green blanket with the Halloween sheets?”

“Oh, babydoll,” Race says, “it’s June.”

“I am aware,” says David. “They’re what’s clean.”

“Use the red one,” says Race. “It’s softer than the green one, plus most of the pattern on the Halloween sheets is orange.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, Davey,” Spot cuts in. “How long are you expecting Les to be staying with you?”

“I don’t know,” David says quietly, honestly. “But he can stay here as long as he needs to. Until he’s got his feet back under him or until he wants to leave. I’m not going to kick him out. I don’t know – I don’t know what happened, why he’s here or why he’s got a baby I haven’t heard a word about until today, but he’s got a home with me as long as he needs one.”

Spot gives one of those little hums she does when she’s got more to say but no words for it. This one feels like affirmation, the sound equivalent of a firm nod.

“I’ll get with Benny,” Race says. “You’re gonna need some new sheets for that guest bed.”

“You and Benny bought me the ones I have.”

“Yeah, course we did, ‘cause you’ve got no taste,” Race replies, and David can practically hear the eyeroll that accompanies it. “But Benny and I bought those sheets for guests, not for a long-term roomie situation. We’ll talk to your brother and get him something that suits his vibe.”

“Benny doesn’t work tomorrow,” David points out uselessly.

“I’m sorry, you think Benny’s not going to be all over meeting your little brother and his baby tomorrow?” says Race. “I’ve been texting him this whole time. He’s offended you called Spotty first.”

“Yeah, well, he can be offended,” says David. “Since he doesn’t have a baby of his own who might be able to offer hand-me-downs.”

“David – loves – Spot – more,” Race says, drawn out slowly over the audible sound of a phone keyboard tapping out the words. “Got it.”

“I hate all of you,” David says completely without heat. “Okay, I’ve gotta go. I left Harper’s travel crib downstairs and I want to get it set up for them before I make myself some dinner.”

“Alright. Call if setting up the pack and play gives you any trouble.”

“Thanks, Spot,” says David.

“See you in the morning! And Les and baby Harper!”

“See you.”

David reaches over to hang up the call, then flops backward onto the newly-made bed. He doesn’t regret offering the space to Les – how could he? – but the weight of it all is finally hitting him.

Something happened to Les. David doesn’t know what, and David isn’t planning to push him on it. But something happened. And when it all fell to pieces, when Les needed to pick up and start over, he came here.

David is not going to let that be a mistake.