Notes: Technical Boy - American Gods

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Technical Boy x human!reader, romantic

You're sitting in a park, drawing someone nearby when you two start tossing notes back and forth.

TW/CW: Cat loss.

Wordcount: 1+k


He was beautiful.

The boy across the way.

Gorgeous blue eyes, smooth, brown hair, perfect skin with high, well-defined cheekbones, beautiful, pink lips that could make any girl jealous, and, despite the baggy, and eccentric, clothes, you could see his muscles.

It was creepy, you knew. Staring at someone like that.

But you couldn't help it. He looked like a living Ken Doll.

The Ken Doll smiled and laughed at something on his phone. You could see the gap between his teeth. Quickly, he clothed his mouth, covering it with one of his sleeves.

Cute.

If his hair was a few shades lighter and shorter, his front teeth a little closer together (despite you finding it adorable), and his hair and clothes a little tamer, he'd be the epitome of American, male expectations.

Despite not wanting to be rude, you kept staring quietly over your drawing pad.

He looked impossible, like plastic almost. Completely unreal.

Quietly, and creepily, you took a picture of him.

You were never the kind of person to do something like that. But, beauty as rare as this, with such geometrical and symmetrical perfection, there was no way you couldn't draw him.

Ken Doll was too perfect.

You turned to a new page in your notebook, ignoring the fact that you already started something else and had started that before finishing the one before.

Using the photo and the real version, you began sketching. Well, trying to. The proportions never seemed right.

Looking up, you saw him smile at his phone and shake his head before scrolling on.

For a moment, you thought his form flickered. Like it was glitching. You shook your head, ignoring it.

You looked back down and continued, deciding to work on the background as it seemed easier than the person. Keyword being seemed.

You worked on it until, finally, you got it right.

It seemed odd. In the hour that you had worked, he hadn't moved from his spot on the opposite bench. If, of course, you didn't count the small, quiet fits of laughter or him covering his mouth.

You lingered a little longer, studying him.

Once again, that's really creepy.

It was as if he felt your eyes on him and he looked up. Only the briefest eye contact happened before you looked back down, slightly ashamed.

If only you realized that he had been stealing his own glances at you while you worked.

Instead of running the chance of looking at him again, you used the photo you took before to continue the drawing. You were quietly thankful that you were a creep and took it.

After a long enough while that you thought it was safe to, you looked back up, only to find his staring at you.

He blushed and froze, like a deer in headlights.

Smiling, you waved at him.

That seemed to be enough to warm him as he smiled and looked down, embarrassed. For staring or for freezing? You couldn't tell.

Deciding to be a little proactive, you took a small memo book out of your bag and wrote on it.

"You're pretty."

Crumpling it, you threw it at him. Well, tossed more like, but it is just a piece of paper. It can't do too much damage.

The note landed in his lap, causing him to look up in surprise. Ken Doll picked it up and uncrumpled it, smoothing it out.

A grin spread across his flushed face as he read it. He looked at you then back at the note, grinning like an idiot.

Ken Doll grabbed a pen from his pocket and scribbled something down before crumpling it up and tossing it back.

Leaning forward a little, you snatched it from the air. The paper rustled as you opened it.

Four little words were written in something akin to chicken scratch. Legible, but barely so.

"Thanks. You are too."

You smiled and looked up at the boy who shuffled his feet and seemingly collapsed in on himself, smiling slightly.

Scribbling your own messy writing, you wrote "You're a messy writer." and tossed it to him, crumpled up.

He laughed to himself before writing back.

"So's yours.

What are you drawing?"

Should you tell him? Nah. That'd be embarrassing.

"Stuff," you write back.

"Is that all I'm getting?"

"Yep."

"Oof, that's cruel.

Can you tell me if it's of the park?"

"It does have some of the park in it, yes."

A smirk formed on his face and he quickly scribbled something down.

"Am I in it?"

"Well, aren't you a vain one?"

"You didn't answer the question."

You smiled at the paper before writing.

"If you must know, yes, you are. Happy?"

"Yes, I am. Thank you for asking.

Can I see it?"

Looking up, you raise an eyebrow at him.

"You are incredibly vain and no, you can't. It's not done."

"Can I see it when it is then?"

"Mhmm, no."

"What if I said please?"

"No, sorry, it's still a no from me."

"Fine. Just don't make me look ugly."

"As if that's possible."

You erase the message before rewriting it and adding on.

"You can't get any more so.

What are you doing here anyway?"

"Ouch, that hurts. Besides, I have it in writing that you think I'm pretty.

As for your question, chatting w/ a very pretty individual on the opposite bench."

Biting your lip, you looked away.

A ding on your phone caused you to look at it.

A message from your flatmate - Your baby got out again and I can't find him. Where r u?

You texted back - OMW

Taking the paper, you wrote a goodbye.

"I've got to go. Emergency. See you again?"

Instead of tossing it over he walked, handing it, folded neatly, to you and left.

You opened it and a phone number with a note under it was written down.

"Send me that drawing when you're done?"

You smiled before tucking the note in your pocket and packing up. You did have a rascally little cat to find after all.

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