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“Um, excuse me?”
Kisuke startled, jerked out of the study haze he’d retreated into, and slammed his textbook closed. “Yes! Sorry! How can I help you?” he asked automatically, and then took in the man in front of his desk.
The shockingly attractive man in front of his desk. It was rare to see hair that color on one of the library patrons; normally their community members were a little more conservative. But there was no discoloration at the roots and his eyebrows seemed to match; maybe it was natural. Either way, it made him stand out, even more than his height and build and whole…face.
Wonderful. Exactly what he needed at the end of a shift at the reference desk coming off an all-nighter.
“I was wondering if you could help me find a book…?” He wasn’t quite scowling, but his brows were pinched together in a way that made him look very serious.
Kisuke manfully resisted the urge to tease as he turned to his monitor. That would be unprofessional. He had to remember he had a lot less leeway now that he wasn’t working for his childhood friend.
“Of course! Can you tell me anything about the book?”
“Yeah, I know it, I just can’t find it,” the man said, and he was shifting more toward an outright scowl now. Well. At least it wasn’t directed at Kisuke, apparently. “A Passage to India. But I need it in English.”
“Ah,” Kisuke said, looking it up to find the reference number. “Were you looking in the 800s? That's English language, literature’s the 900s.”
The man’s expression froze, and then twisted in frustration. “Right,” he said. His face was slowly flushing.
Oh no. Oh no, that was adorable. “It’s an easy mistake to make,” Kisuke said breezily as he stood up from the desk. “I’ll just show you where it is.”
“I can find it if you give me the number,” he answered. “I’m studying literature; I usually know my way around libraries pretty well.”
“It’s no trouble,” Kisuke insisted brightly. “Really, it gives me a chance to stretch my legs.” He was already walking to the shelf; the man was following. “Are you a university student, then?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah, me too!” Kisuke said brightly, and made himself smile his best customer service smile instead of smirk at the side-eye he got. “A bit of a mid-life career change,” he said, as ever shoving down the bitter twist; not so much a change as getting forced out…
But Yoruichi had her reasons.
“Mid-life?” the man said, and appeared to immediately regret it when Kisuke’s eyes snapped away from scanning the shelves and directly to his face. But he went on. “I mean, you don’t exactly look…middle aged.”
Kisuke’s grin was probably not customer-service appropriate. “Oh? And what do you think I look like?” Hopefully the man would be too embarrassed to complain to his supervisor about Kisuke’s tone.
And then the man gave him a look. It was mostly angry, but something in his eyes…no, he would not be going to Yadoumaru-san.
“Right, well, thanks for the book,” the man said, nearly snatching it out of Kisuke’s hands after he pulled it off the shelf.
“Ah, I have to check you out,” Kisuke said, trying very hard not to laugh or be too obvious about the innuendo. “I’m the only one in the department today.”
The man was staring at him in hastily-concealed shock, but he relaxed a little at the clarification. “Right.”
They fell into step as they turned back to the desk.
“So your university library didn’t have that book?” Kisuke asked idly, already calculating the odds on whether he’d be seeing this oh-so-entertaining man again.
That scowl from before made a reappearance. “No. I was surprised to find it in this library, actually. And I need it for my thesis.”
“I’m glad we were able to be of service to our community, then,” Kisuke said brightly.
The man hummed and handed over his library card.
Kurosaki Ichigo.
Kisuke very carefully did not take any particular note of his contact information. That would go beyond unprofessional; moreover, it would be cheating.
“It’s due in two weeks,” Kisuke said brightly, handing the book back with his card. “Thank you for your patronage, Kurosaki-san!”
“Thank you for the help,” Kurosaki-san said in turn, accepting the book. “I never got your name.”
“Ah, it’s Urahara Kisuke,” he said with some surprise. Kurosaki-san had regained his equilibrium; he seemed a bit more direct and confident now that he wasn’t flustered from having to ask for help or enduring Kisuke’s teasing.
He smiled a bit crookedly at that, and oh, that was worse than his serious look, worse than his flustered blush. “See you, Urahara-san,” he said.
And then he left.
Kisuke went back to his textbook, but he couldn’t help the smile that touched the corners of his mouth.
It was even better when Kurosaki-san came back two weeks later, asking for Kisuke by name and looking for another book that Kisuke knew for a fact the university library had.
Pointing that out, though, would reveal that Kisuke had been comparing the university library catalogue with theirs, and he really didn’t want to talk about why that was.
It was far more fun to let this play out.