vellichor
bnha prototype week, day one : your favourite prototype
Akatani meets a pretty face at the bookshop.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24863512
@protobnhaweek
If you asked him, Akatani would say he doesn’t mind the library/bookshop he works in.
Its a lot better than slaving away at retail. The most he does is stand by the desk and organize books. Not many people come around this side of town, and even fewer enter the old bookshop he works in.
Still, Uraraka slaps a paycheck down every week, and it’s enough to keep him from sinking into the watery depths of eternal debt.
Uraraka doesn’t even bother him half the time. She just gets irritated whenever something happens that could affect the pay she gets, which is understandable. At first, he’d been quite scared of her dead eyes and resting bitch face, but after a year of working there he learned that the dead eyes was not the thing to fear.
Case in point, he finds, when a tall, spiky-haired blonde with too many muscles and a beaming smile slams a textbook and a book on dinosaurs onto the table.
Akatani glances up, ready to scan the books, but instead pauses.
FUCK, that face is pretty.
It’s got a strong jawline, and that beaming grin is so white and blinding. Those crimson eyes shine like the stars, and a weird instinct he’s never had before in his life wants to lean forwards and run his hands all over the sides of his face and feel his breath on his shoulder and stare into those eyes forever and peck on those sw-
Laughter interrupts his train of thought, and he blushes furiously, snatching a book and scanning it.
The laughter doesn’t stop. “Ooooo, somebody’s got a crush!” Uraraka hollers mercilessly, eyes glimmering.
”Yuu!” He sputters angrily, trying desperately to cover up his tracks. “You’re embarrassing the costumer, and I do not!”
He turns back to the costumer and tries his damn near best not to get caught up in those crimson eyes like blazing fire.
”I’m sorry for her, sir. Now, uh, your, uh-“
Just read the damn numbers!
But fuck, this handsome ass costumer is laughing now too, and it’s like the burst of spring after a long and hard winter.
Akatani wishes he could pull into his uniform and curl up and never come out ever again for the rest of eternity.
He tries to distract himself. Vellichor paints the air like a paintbrush of brown and silver, mixed with dust and an almost homey feeling. The old red-and-brown radio thats from whats probably the 1950s plays old instrumental tunes.
Still, he’s dragged out of his distraction by a shuffling as the man grabs the bag, and he glances up to see the man smile so wide that his beautiful eyes scrunch shut.
”So, when do I have to return these?” He says, voice like beautiful bells with gongs to back them up like power.
Akatani stares down at the number. “J-July 1st, sir” He manages.
The man smiles. “Great! Can’t wait to see you again.”
Then, he slides something down near him, turns heel and leaves.
Akatani glances down at the thing that the pretty man slid towards him and just damn near faints.
On the paper is a phone number, a name - Katsuki Bakugo - and a little call me! Beneath the number with a heart on the exclamation point.
He feels like he’s dreaming. “Yuu, if I die, will you come to my funeral?”
Uraraka slaps a hand on his back. “And I’ll bring your little plus one, too.”
”Yuu!”
Cackling is the only response.
