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Knotting Hill (an excerpt)

Because I may or may not have been planning on writing a loose Notting Hill AU all along, but now with a surprise A/B/O component!

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The day everything changed started like any other day.

It was raining and misty that morning, which made Jonny’s haphazard dash to Brew Ha Ha a little less graceful than usual. Other than that, it was perfectly ordinary: he stumbled in, Duncs pressed a mug of black coffee into his palm, and he shot the shit with Seabs for the better part of an hour before finishing off his latte - a truly delicious concoction of hazelnut, raspberry, and chocolate that was probably going straight to his already enormous thighs (thanks for that Seabs but we all know who the real fattie is here) - and ducking through the rain, tocque pulled low against the wind.

On grey, overcast days like today, Le port de tête looked shuttered and quiet. It was equal parts creepy and enchanting. Shawzy had class and wouldn’t be coming in until the afternoon, so it was Jonny and his empty nonfiction-only bookshop. He wasn’t really expecting any business; it was a weekday, no one wanted to buy nonfiction anymore and it was miserable outside, the rain starting to pour.

He got a little more than business.

The guy came in wearing lime green wayfarer sunglasses and a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead. In January. It didn’t get much douchier than that. His friend was similarly dressed, though minus the hat. He shouldered his way in, and Jonny couldn’t help but notice the breadth of his shoulders under his stupid grey hoodie, the way the fabric stretched taut across muscle and nope, nope, Jonny wasn’t going down this road again - there was a reason he promised himself there wouldn’t be any more guys like TJ after that mess of a break up.

The guy - douchebro, Jonny decided uncharitably - wandered through the stacks for a second, frowning at the selection of books and muttering to his friend, who was in possession of fantastic and surprisingly water resistant hair. As he wound a corner, he tugged off his sunglasses and - oh god. The stupid guy in the wayfarers was Patrick Kane. Patrick fucking Kane.

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