"You're happy."

Shouta stared at his grading, trying to decide if he wanted to acknowledge Yagi's comment. On the one hand, he was enjoying the heck out of annoying the fuck out of Nemuri and Hizashi. On the other hand, Shouta suspected that Yagi was referring to something else entirely.

The soft tone to Yagi's words, in particular, provided strong evidence that this was a talk about feelings. Shouta did not like talking about feelings.

Yagi gave him a crooked grin that had become more and more common as the retired hero had adjusted to his full time position as UA teacher. The students' continued efforts to smother him in affection probably didn't hurt, nor did the staff's continued efforts to mother-hen him into actual self-care (which Shouta didn't participate in; yellow was a perfectly acceptable colour for a blanket and not indicative of anything).

Shouta sighed. "Don't spread it around or you'll ruin my fun."

Yagi looked across the room with a head tilt that had his hair bobbing. Mic and Midnight were pressed close together in a corner whispering as much as Mic was able and gesturing wildly every few minutes. They were trying to find the root of Shouta's odd behaviour, which was basically him ignoring their texts more than usual and smirking knowingly every so often when they asked him questions.

He wasn't actually worried about them finding out about Harry. They were going to think he was violently adorable, and that would be even before Harry awkwardly stumbled though introductions (Shouta had rapidly learned that their meeting at the bar was a smitten fluke and Harry was in no way smooth unless there was actually trouble and Harry got to wear his Hero Face, which Shouta maybe found a bit adorable).

Shouta had absolute faith that Harry would blurt out the opinions he'd already formed about Nemuri and Hizashi at the bar within the first ten minutes, namely that Nemuri was a badass and

Hizashi's volume was infections joy, and thus earn their eternal loyalty.

That was another day's problem, however. Currently, Nemuri had jumped the gun quite a bit and was insisting that Shouta had gotten laid while Hizashi was throwing around the idea of aliens and abductions. So, no, Shouta wasn't worried.

Yagi was apparently quicker on the uptake. He smiled softly and took a sip of his tea, eyes twinkling. "I'm glad."

Shouta put down his pen. Yagi would leave it there, Shouta knew. Just a quiet moment of acknowledgement that Shouta could pretend never happened.

Instead, Shouta dropped his head onto his arms like he was going to take a nap on his desk, but turned his face to Yagi's. "His name is Harry and he's a foreign hero who's deadly and pretty and broken and can keep the fuck up. I like him."

Yagi didn't laugh at Shouta or his mournful tone. That was the reason Shouta had told Yagi in the first place, well, that and the other hero's damn genuine happiness from Shouta being happy (Yagi was nice, and now that he'd actually improved his teaching, Shouta couldn't avoid that with bluster and cutting remarks).

With a hum, Yagi sipped his tea again before speaking. "I'm glad." Shouta sighed again.

"Foreign?" Yagi made the word a question, but it was one that Shouta could interpret in several different ways. One he could easily use to shut down the conversation, too.

His spine cracked just a little as Shouta sat up, glancing at Nemuri and Hizashi squabbling by the window, the only others currently in the staff room, before facing Yagi.

"Yes. I'm not sure..." If it would last. If it was meant to. How long Harry would stay (though the comment about forced vacation and medical leave was concerning on several different levels).

But he also wasn't sure it mattered. And not just in a 'take what he could get while he could get it' kind of way. There had been more photos shared over their most recent dinner, and pictures of his friends and fellow heroes had shown up. Frequently.

Maybe that should have unsettled Shouta. Maybe those obviously beloved faces and the spinning tales that accompanied them should have made him nervous or more certain that Harry was temporary and soon returning home.

Shouta kept returning to the other man's tone, however. Harry was proud and protective and just a bit proprietary. The people in the photos were his people. And if Shouta managed to become one of Harry's people...well.

So he grinned, slow and sly and just slightly off centre, and changed what he was going to say, instead offering to Yagi, "I think he's just a bit possessive, too."

Yagi chuckled, but before he could say another soft-hearted 'I'm glad' Shouta fell back to the other way he could have taken Yagi's question about Harry being foreign.

"You worked with other English-speaking countries when in the States, right?"

Shouta was absently impressed when Yagi responded to Shouta's now teeth-full grin with only

deepening smile lines. "I did." "Ever meet Phoenix?"

Yagi choked on his tea. Shouta was concerned for all of a moment until he realized there was no blood being coughed up, only laughter. Deep laughter that went past Yagi's usual chuckle and had the man pressing a long-fingered hand to his side.

"Fuck, ow." Yagi snorted, despite himself. "Oh, good work, Aizawa."

Shouta leaned back, pleased, then turned to raise an eyebrow at Nemuri and Hizashi who'd approached the table.

Nemuri was glaring at Yagi, who'd managed to get a hold of himself. "You know."

"Know what?" Yagi asked cheerfully.

"What's up with Shouta!" Hizashi flailed.

Yagi tilted his head. "Something's up with Aizawa?" He turned to face Shouta again. "Are you all right?"

Shouta was impressed. Nemuri was not.

Hizashi beat them all to the punch and turned to Nemuri, emphasizing his point with another flying hand. "Look, even if he doesn't know, this is still evidence! Shou doesn't laugh in the corner of the staff room, particularly with Yagi."

Shouta kind of wanted to point out that he hadn't been the one laughing, but instead offered Yagi a napkin for the spilled tea. Yagi accepted without looking as he asked, "Why not? We're friends."

Both Nemuri and Hizashi stared, leaving Yagi more than enough time to mop up all of the tea and throw the napkin with a perfect arc into the trash bin.

"We knew that," Nemuri started.

"We just didn't think you did," Hizashi finished.

Yagi snorted. "Gran Torino was my mentor. I know how to read between lines."

Shouta just gave a stare that he hoped conveyed something along the lines of 'I have twenty kids, you idiots, I may not like emotions but I can certainly recognize them, particularly in myself.' He felt pretty successful when Hizashi scratched his neck and Nemuri briefly looked away.

Nemuri recovered and narrowed her eyes. "So you know what Shouta is hiding." Yagi nodded. "I do."

Hizashi spluttered. "Betrayed! You said you didn't!"

With a small frown, Yagi pulled off a masterful confused face that Shouta might have believed, if he hadn't seen Midoriya wearing the same one last week in some elaborate (successful) plan to get Bakugou to cook him spicy curry. "You asked me if I knew what was up with Aizawa, not if I knew what he was hiding. Aizawa is always hiding something; he's rather secretive, you know. That hardly seemed new enough to count as something being up with him."

Nemuri opened her mouth, but then the warning bell rang. She and Hizashi had classes. Shouta and Yagi did not.

"I'm watching you." Nemuri didn't point, but she was very clear as she dragged a protesting Hizashi away.

There was a beat of silence after the door clicked that smelled heavily of herbs from the spilled tea. "Midoriya has been a terrible influence on you."

"Thank you! Though I do hope you tell them soon; Midnight scares me."

"Glad to see your hero instincts are still working. I'll tell her later today. Hizashi gets to suffer because he got distracted by something shiny and left me alone in the bar." Shouta considered. "Have you coughed up any blood today?"

"No, not for a few days, actually."

"Good behaviour should be rewarded." Shouta dug into the bag under his desk and pulled out a container of chocolate-chip cookies that, while ostensibly simple, were some of the best cookies he'd ever tasted.

"Harry made those." There was an interesting tone to Yagi's voice that Shouta ignored as he calculated allowances from Recovery Girl's diet plan against visible signs of Yagi's health.

"He did."

Yagi hummed. "He made them once for a joint meeting on international smuggling."

"Yeah, apparently he both stress and happy bakes." Which had been slightly difficult to gather through the adorable stuttering when Harry had pressed the container into his hands at the end of their date last night.

Shouta finished his calculations and broke a large cookie in half to give to Yagi, who took a bite and let his eyes slip shut. "I'm not sure if this a reward for taking care of my health, for teasing Nemuri and Hizashi, or a bribe for my continued silence. But it's worth it."

Yes, Shouta rather thought it was (he wanted to keep this).

"-and then we slid into the death rate of young heroes coming out of different schools and the different resources schools offered for new graduates and did you know he runs an Underground Seminar every month for networking and support?"

Hermione smile and Ron huffed, which was clearly enough acknowledgement. So Harry continued. "And he was telling me about this online communication thing that one of his seminar kids set up, but we had to stop because a Villain appeared. And I didn't have to do anything! Which was good, because I'm still not actually licensed and I think the police are a little tired of me and the Permission Loophole with all the glares I'm getting. But I didn't need to! He moved so fast, and so smooth, and-"

"Merlin's beard! We get it!"

"Ronald!"

"What? Mione. Come on. Look, mate." Ron waited a very unnecessary moment to make sure Harry was paying attention. Harry was currently sitting on the floor in his empty apartment staring into a levitating mirror at his two best friends. He really wasn't sure how to pay more attention.

"Shouta is dangerous and beautiful and damaged and can keep the fuck up. We get it. We do. He's amazing. Do you think you should maybe do something about that?"

Harry tilted his head as if that would make Ron makes sense. It had never worked before, but Harry lived in eternal hope.

Hermione sighed. "Harry. You seem very attached to Shouta." Harry nodded because this was very true.

Hermione smiled slightly. "Well, we were wondering if, perhaps, your feelings for him might be greater than, well, friendship.

Harry stilled, hands splayed out over the cool fabric covering his knees, because that was also very true. And very obvious?

"Look, mate." Ron said again. "Why don't you ask him out? Like on a date. Please ask him out on a date." The last part was muttered, probably supposedly so Harry wouldn't hear, but Harry had excellent hearing.

"What," Harry said anyways, because maybe he had misheard.

Ron and Hermione exchanged Meaningful Glances. "We just thought," Hermione started, "that you might like to ask Shouta on a date, since you're so fond of him."

With a blink and a head tilt, Harry crossed his arms. "I already did? We're going back to the cat cafe tomorrow after school and before his patrol."

Hermione and Ron stared for a full minute, while Harry tried to figure out what he'd done wrong. Then Ron woke up. "What! When was this! Harry! We've been listening to you moon around all month, why didn't you tell us you'd asked him out."

"First off, you're in no place to throw bludgers; I had to endure you and Hermione pinning for each other for literal years. Secondly, I did?"

Hermione looked like she wanted to laugh. "No, you didn't. You must have gotten sidetracked by telling us all the ways Shouta is wonderful. When did you ask him out?"

Harry ignored Ron's muttering, perfectly glad to tell this story, particularly if he'd somehow missed the first time. "Right after we took down that kidnapper! Well, okay, it was more Shouta telling the cops we were already on a date to save me from paperwork and bureaucrats, then me saying I wouldn't mind, then him trying to tell me he was a bad person to date, then me countering with all the ways I was a bad person to date, and the two of us getting food anyways! We also pet awesome cats, though they weren't as awesome as Crookshanks."

"I remember that cat part of the story. But, Harry, wasn't the kidnapper capture your second meeting?" Hermione asked.

"Yes."

Ron made a sound like he'd been hit in the back of a head with a broom, not that Harry knew what that sounded like. "WHAT."

Harry tilted his head. "I'm not sure how to be more clear."

Hermione was laughing helplessly now, even as Ron got up and began to pace behind their couch, muttering about finding Draco, stealing one of the emergency to Japan portkeys, and shaking sense into his best friend.

"We're really happy for you, Harry."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked Hermione, even as he tracked Ron's movements in the mirror.

"Absolutely. Ron's just annoyed that he spent all month strategizing how to get you to realize your feelings for nothing, particularly when he really should've been working on threatening a man from a different county."

"I don't need a plan for international shovel talks if I go to Japan to shake Harry for leaving out the most important part of the story. Then I can multi-task."

"You're not going to Japan. You're in the middle of a case." Hermione turned back to Harry. "We're just glad you're happy, Harry."

Harry froze, before slowly reaching out to the floating mirror and grabbing in with both hands. "Shit. Oh fuck. Mione. Mione, I think I am. I'm happy."

"Oh dear. Ron! Ron sit down and help me talk our best friend off his self-sacrificing ledge."

"Hizashi left me alone at the bar after you left and his lack of knowledge is his punishment."

Nemuri hummed but didn't let go of Shouta's arm as she hadn't since he'd materialized at her side as she was preparing to leave the building.

"You weren't right; I didn't get laid. But I did meet someone and we spent the entire night talking about child soldiers and training programs and cute photos of our children and then captured a kidnapper as a first date and I like him and it's terrible."

"Aw, sweetie." She put her head on his shoulder and didn't look at him as they continued to walk down the street. Shouta appreciated this immensely. "Lets get take out to bring back to my place. You can tell me all about your man and then we can watch hero and police movies so you can critique all the ways they're inaccurate and avoid emotions entirely."

Shouta had good friends.

"I'm so proud of you Teddy-Bear! Full marks in potions, who would have thought."

"Uh-huh. Thanks. So you're saying you've been in Japan for a month and haven't visited the hospital at all?"

Harry sighed, but couldn't help the smile that stayed on his face even as his head was wreathed in the flames of the floo. He wished he could step through and give his godson a hug, but, even if international floo travel allowed more than conversations, that would probably taking advantage of his status and McGonagall's soft spot just a bit too much.

"No, Teddy, no hospital."

Teddy pulled off a truly masterful skeptical look for an eleven-year old. "And not just because you're avoiding going?"

Maybe Hermione and Draco had a point about overworking if Teddy was this disbelieving. Heroing and Auroring were pretty dangerous, but this seemed like a lot of worry. "Promise, Teddy. I haven't had an injury worse than a scrape that my own magic can fix on over a month." Hickeys probably didn't count, right?

Teddy crossed his arms.

Harry resisted throwing up his hands. "I've been good! I'm mostly working cold cases, coordinating with bureaucrats, and consulting on training! I've been getting at least six hours of sleep every night and eating three meals a day and-"

"Wait." Harry waited. He would never not wait for Teddy. Realistically, the Wizarding world was lucky the boy didn't ask for something larger. Like the complete and utter destruction of the society that killed his parents and still tried to say that his father wasn't a hero for his werewolf blood.

"You've been eating three meals a day?!" Yeah, this kid was too worried about Harry. When did that start? Harry always made sure to eat properly and model good behaviour when Teddy stayed with him. Someone was a snitch. Harry was betting Draco. Or Andromeda. Andromeda would totally set Teddy on Harry in an effort to make Harry take care of himself more. She was a Black and therefore devious enough to weaponize her grandson's puppy eyes.

"Yes?" Teddy frowned when Harry's answer sounded like a question, so Harry repeated himself. "Yes! I mean it. Shouta texts me around mealtimes and gets snippy if I haven't eaten, and we eat together, too."

Mainly on rooftops. Shouta was pretty busy with his two jobs but Harry could teleport and so a habit of feeding his boyfriend right before or even in the middle of patrols had begun. The jelly pouches were hardly sufficient for patrol nights.

Harry had gotten a Look when he'd said that out loud, though. Considering he'd said it the night after Shouta had walked into Harry's rented studio to find him buried in cold case files, wearing the same clothes as the day before, and having eaten nothing more than a muffin since the previous night, the Look was probably a reasonable response.

Harry had gotten another Look when he'd said he just hadn't felt hungry. A Look that said the man was putting together puzzle pieces he would really rather drown in the ocean. They didn't talk about it (Harry loved him so much), though that's when the texts started. And the meal requests (which were a trap but Harry didn't care because Shouta always smiled this small little smile when he ate Harry's food and Harry would do worse than walk into a trap for that smile).

Teddy still had narrowed eyes, but seemed to find something in Harry's face that finally convinced him, because he started beaming. "Great! Ok, I've got to go. Potions homework, you know, if I want to keep that perfect score. Bye Dad, love you."

Harry was still blinking from Teddy's sudden departure (and not the molten joy of being called Dad) and didn't cancel the connection. Teddy, though quite smart, was still eleven, so also didn't cancel the connection.

This meant that Harry heard, with almost perfect clarity, his godson ask, "Professor McGonagall? Can you help me sent a letter to Harry's boyfriend in Japan?"

Harry didn't hear McGonagall's response, but Teddy did, because he continued, "Because Harry hasn't been to the hospital in a month." A pause. "That's what I said! But he says he's been eating three meals a day and he doesn't lie to me ever and he also laughed four times during our call when I wasn't even being funny. Four! And I think one was a giggle. I want to write this Shouta and say thanks and let him know we're keeping him."

McGonagall must have moved or some closer to the fire, because her accent came through, suddenly as sharp as a bell.

"Then by all means, we should write. It would only be polite. I'm sure Fawkes would take the letter, even so far. He's quite fond of Harry."

There was a long, happy burst of song. Then a pause.

"Can we add that if the boyfriend hurts Harry, Fawkes will set him on fire?"

There was a trill this time. A mischievous trill.

"I'm pretty sure that was a yes." Teddy said flatly.

"I'm sure that between the three of us we can come up with a more comprehensive threat than simply 'on fire.'"

Harry shut off the floo connection and buried his face in soot-coated hands. He didn't giggle. He did not.

Nezu sipped his tea. "Harry seems like a nice boy."

Shouta moved his queen forward. "A nice boy who attracts trouble. I've had to give him the go ahead for heroics four separate times and only once was he actually visiting me on patrol. Help expediting his Japanese accreditation would be appreciated."

Nezu moved his bishop with a soft little tap, but said nothing.

Shouta stared a moment, before countering with is rook. "Keep your manipulations obvious and he'll probably be happy to play along. He loves a good bit of chaos and the training workshops are easily his favourite part of his work here. Luring him into teaching a class or two won't be hard if you're obvious about what you want. He doesn't take well to subtle machinations, though."

Nezu dipped a cookie into his tea and then ate it primly. "Lovely." Shouta couldn't help but agree.

Harry stared at his mirror, watching Draco work. The other man had taken to computers with a veracity that only surprised those not active on the war front; computers meant information and Draco loved his networks.

As such, he had a very particular set up of full length mirrors and computer screens that everyone had quickly learned not to touch, even Fred and George. Harry could tell from the angle that he was displayed in the centre mirror, but Draco was ignoring him to finish some paperwork.

Which was fine. Harry was patient and it was kind of fun to outlast Draco and beat him at his own game.

Draco sighed, gathering his paperwork in a pile and finally looking up. "I suppose he's satisfactory."

Harry quickly cast his mind back to try and figure out what case or new contractor Draco was talking about, this being the purpose of their weekly updates, but failed. Thankfully, Draco continued. "I mean, he dresses like a slob and clearly doesn't own a hair brush, but his hero record is pretty impressive and he has a surprisingly high ratio of successful baby heroes to come out of his class."

"Oh. We're talking about Shouta."

"Of course were talking about Shouta! Did you really think I wouldn't do a background check on the first person to put up with your self-sacrificial ass?"

Harry laughed. He laughed through updates about Shouta's records, comments from other heroes, commendations from the police, and even his high school grades.

He laughed until there were tears coming from his eyes and Draco had developed that silly little smile that said he was absurdly pleased with himself.

He laughed until he was interrupted by George's smooth, "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

"I'd say we have our little Draco showing his true colours at last. Trying to kill our illustrious leader with laughter. Tsk. Tsk." Fred shook his head.

"Yeah," George slung his arm around his brother's neck, "Doesn't he know that's our job?" "What are you buffoons doing in my office?"

"Experimenting!" The twins chorused.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You were kicked out of the shop."

"Course not!" Crowed Fred. "Maybe." Admitted George.

"Fred. George." Both twins immediately turned to face Harry. "I want an Agreement; no pranks, tests, or threats for at least three months or until Shouta gets read in on magic."

"What's in it for us?"

"Free rein once he is read in; I think he'd appreciate the challenge. A full set of notes on that faulty batch of Canary Cremes, which I may have accidentally eaten and had some interesting results. The hand over of the only existing picture involving the two of you, a pair of brooms, a wedding cake, and Crookshanks."

Draco raised his eyebrows even as the twins exchanged glances. George nodded, then turned back to the mirror. "You're awfully serious there, mate."

"I am. I really like him and would rather things didn't get screwed up because one Ministry or the other took offence or had something obvious to say to me." He tilted his head, "Besides, Shouta is smart. Given enough of your pranks he'd probably figure it out."

They considered, and Harry grinned. "Agree right now and I'll even throw in a picture of Ron and Draco crashing after that plant-villain case by snuggling on the couch."

"Sold!" Twin voices chorused.

"There is no such picture, Scarhead. That never happened!"

"Oh, and just so you know. Go back on the Agreement and I'll send the photo of the moment directly before the broom one to both Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, as well as the location of at least two of your backup laboratory boltholes."

Harry cut the magic from the mirror, but not before he heard a low whistle from Fred and George exclaiming, "Look at our boy, all grown up and blackmailing friends and family."

Shouta had a lap full of warm, attractive war veteran and was pleased. He was also quite pleased with the warm, slow kisses that were the consequence (or reward) of having said warm veteran in his lap. He was far less pleased with the loud yelling of his name from the hallway outside his non- UA apartment.

Harry huffed a laugh, leaning back and sitting more neatly on Shouta's knees, though not removing his arms from around Shouta's neck. Harry's eyes and the tilt of his head held that chaotic spark that Shouta was beginning to adore, even under the red that dusted his cheeks.

"So." Harry's breath was still a little unstable. "Assuming we're still operating under the goal of petty revenge and jack-assery, how do you feel about Yamada dramatically learning I exist and being given no further information? It will leave you to face the wolves, or wolf, so to speak, but..."

With a blink, Shouta caught on, and grinned wildly in response. He could handle Hizashi's questions. Ignoring the blond's prying and whining was actually quite amusing, particularly when Shouta was just hiding information for the fun of it.

Harry clearly took the grin for the response it was, dragging his fingers up the nape of Shouta's neck and using his hair to force him into one last, deep kiss.

Hizashi opened the door after swearing at the key, then dropped it with an audible clack when he stepped into the apartment, shout of hello and 'get off your damn couch, Shouta' quickly dying out as the shock set in.

Harry gave a laugh, head thrown back and completely safe in the knowledge that only his back was visible from the door, before apparating straight away.

Shouta slumped back but turned his head to face Hizashi and looked at his friend with one open, lazy eye. "I was quite happy on my couch, Zashi."

Shouta was definitely going to be getting interrogated, but he also got to add this moment to his short but precious mental file of 'Times Hizashi was Completely Speechless.'

It was a good day.