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Chapter Text

“Just another minute,” Yagi muttered softly under his breath, quickly stirring four spoonfuls of sugar into the well-worn coffee mug, his bright blue eyes glancing up at the large analog clock noisily ticking away on the wall. The time read 7:26 a.m. and the bell above the door jingled, announcing the arrival of his favorite customer. ‘Punctual, as usual’, Yagi thought to himself as a soft smile warmed his lips.

“Good morning, Mr. Aizawa,” Yagi spoke quietly, pushing the mug over the counter to the sleepy-looking man. Mr. Aizawa didn’t bother to answer, a grunt leaving his lips as he took the mug into his hands, turning his back to the blond barista and shuffling his way over to his favorite seat in the café, hanging his black leather book bag over the back of the chair and plopping down exhaustedly.

Immediately, a young black cat hopped up into Mr. Aizawa’s lap, her purrs loud enough for Yagi to hear from across the room. Yagi stared at his customer for a moment longer before turning to straighten up behind the counter.

It had become a daily routine almost three months prior.

Every morning at exactly 7:26 a.m., the sleepy man would stroll into Purr a Latte, drink a cup of coffee, and play with the kittens for nearly an hour before disappearing off to what Yagi supposed was a job. The poor man always looked rather haggard even though he couldn’t be much older than thirty, almost in a rumpled professor sort of way, and Yagi was absolutely smitten.

Mr. Aizawa’s hair was long and inky black, almost always hanging in limp waves over his shoulders and down his back, and his eyes were nearly the same color, hidden behind a pair of thin, rectangle shaped lenses. He was usually dressed in a casual suit of some sort, or a cardigan and a button up shirt; a pair of dark jeans were apparently his go-to in the trouser department.

Today’s attire consisted of a black pullover with a charcoal gray button-up shirt underneath, his ever-present jeans adorning his long, sturdy legs. Yagi’s eyes widened as he took in Mr. Aizawa’s shoes, however; the man was wearing a pair of black Converse, a surprising fashion choice in Yagi’s opinion, yet a logical choice in the comfort department. The barista grinned as he noticed the slight scruffiness around his lip and jawline, indicating that his customer had forgotten to shave that morning, and his dark hair was half pulled up in a knot at the back of his skull, the remaining long tresses falling gently over his shoulders.

Yagi sighed softly, shaking his head to clear the wild, daydreamy thoughts running through his mind, and made himself busy washing the used coffee and tea mugs from the morning’s rush, humming along to song on the radio softly playing in the background.

A soft meow and the rustling of paper pulled Yagi from his thoughts, and he glanced over at Mr. Aizawa, his eyes crinkling in happiness as he noticed the soft smile on the man’s lips. His glasses were pushed down the bridge of his nose, a thin hardback book held in one hand and a purring kitten dangled in the other, her paws batting at a few stray locks of dark hair that had escaped over his forehead.

Yagi sighed softly, as he made his way around the counter and into the café’s sitting area, a small herd of cats immediately weaving about between his long, gangly legs, soft meows echoing around the small, sunlit shop. Yagi smiled as he reached down, gently petting each cat and calling them by name, before shooing them back to their little beds littered around underneath the windows. One tiny kitten, however, refused to leave Yagi’s side.

She was solid white, with huge sapphire eyes, and a thick fluffy tail that flicked back and forth regally. The tall barista smiled softly as he stooped to pick her up in his huge hands, cradling her to his chest, before gently tucking her into the hip pocket of his apron, where she curled up to take a little cat nap.

Yagi had found her abandoned a few weeks back in the dumpster behind his café, and his huge heart wouldn’t allow him to just walk away. He brought her in, cleaned her up and fed her; thankfully, the other cats accepted her into their clowder without so much as an errant whisker out of place. Yagi named her Angel.

As Yagi was making a show of sweeping up, he heard a sigh and the soft snap of a book closing. The little black kitten, that Yagi affectionately called Storm, let out a whiny meow as the sleepy man gently deposited her back onto the floor, before tucking his book back into his book bag. After standing and stretching his arms over his head and slinging the strap of his bag across his shoulder and chest, Mr. Aizawa picked up his now empty coffee mug and made his way through the sea of cats back to the counter. Yagi hurriedly put the broom and dustpan away, wiping his hands on his apron before stepping back behind the counter. His blue eyes met red-rimmed obsidian, and he gave the man before him a dazzling smile.

“Is there anything else I can get for you, Mr. Aizawa?” he asked politely, as he took the cup from the smaller man’s hand. Mr. Aizawa slowly shook his head and handed Yagi the exact change for the coffee. Yagi’s smile softened as he turned to the register to deposit the change, his voice soft.

“Is it a good book?” Yagi felt dark eyes on him, and he half turned to see Mr. Aizawa’s eyes narrow in confusion. Yagi motioned to his book bag with his chin. “The book you were reading just now. Is it any good?” Mr. Aizawa paused, before nodding.

“Yes. It’s Shakespeare,” he said softly, and Yagi shivered at the deep richness of his voice, a voice Yagi rarely got to hear. After turning to place the mug in the sink, Yagi sauntered back to the counter, his eyes bright.

“Shakespeare? Which play are you reading?” he asked, curiosity eating away at his thoughts. Mr. Aizawa cleared his throat, his eyes casting downward to his bag.

“’A Midsummer Night’s Dream’.” Yagi cocked his head to the side, a deep chuckle flowing out of his chest.

“It’s been a very long time since I read that one; but I do remember enjoying it.” Yagi closed his eyes as he racked his brain for any thought to help him out, a sudden memory racing through his thoughts. “That’s the one with the fairies, right?” When he glanced back up, he was surprised to find Mr. Aizawa’s cheeks were tinted pink as he nodded, his hand tightly gripping the leather strap of his bag.

“You’ve read Shakespeare?” he asked softly, his eyes cast downward. Yagi smiled, nodding his head.

“A long time ago, but yes, I have,” he replied happily, thrilled to actually be talking to the handsome young man. A ghost of a smile played across Mr. Aizawa’s lips before disappearing just as quickly as it appeared.

“It’s nice to meet someone who likes to read,” Mr. Aizawa muttered softly, before shaking his head, his long hair floating gracefully and settling over his shoulders. “Thank you for the coffee, Mr. Yagi.” Yagi's lips quirked up into a grin.

“You’re very welcome. See you in the morning, Mr. Aizawa,” he said with a small smile, as the younger man turned and shuffled away, throwing up a hand in farewell.

As the door closed behind him, Yagi groaned, flopping his forehead down on the counter.

“The man never ceases to amaze me,” he moaned miserably. “Shakespeare? Really, Yagi? You just aged yourself big time.” He thunked his head against the cream colored granite countertop, waking Angel who was still tucked in his apron pocket; the white kitten mewled in response and Yagi startled out of his thoughts, scooping the kitten up between his hands, her nose and whiskers brushing against Yagi’s cheek, a sigh escaping through his lips.

“Well, at least I know he’ll be back tomorrow. He wouldn't go a day without his coffee and kittens.”

Chapter Text

As soon as Yagi had closed up Purr A Latte at precisely 4:00 p.m., he decided to head out to the market to do a bit of shopping, with Angel still safely tucked away in his pocket. After gathering the necessary ingredients he would need in the café the next day, he wandered around the market for a bit longer, in search of what to fix for his supper.

A few regular patrons from the café spotted him, and stopped to make casual conversation, naturally oohing and ahhing over the well-behaved kitten poking her head out of his apron pocket, and Angel preened at the attention. Yagi smiled down at his little charge as he decided on homemade ramen for supper, one of his favorites, and quickly scoped out the required components, tucking them into the cloth bag he hung over his shoulder as he trudged his way back to his apartment.

After unlocking the café door, Yagi stepped inside the rapidly darkening shop, turning to lock the door back behind him. A few of the cats raised their heads at the familiar intruder, quickly returning to their various resting poses along the windowsill and snuggled up in their beds; however, one certain kitten bounded over to Yagi, winding around his ankles with soft mewling sounds, big emerald eyes staring up into Yagi’s gentle blue gaze, and the man just couldn’t say no.

Leaning down with a soft groan, he scooped Storm up, cradling her in his strong arms as he flicked off the main light in the café, the automatic nightlight in the kitchen flickering on. Yagi carefully settled the bag with his café cooking supplies on the counter in the small kitchen, before turning and opening a door that could have possibly been a closet. But instead of storage space, a narrow set of stairs lay just beyond, leading up to a small apartment just above the café.

He slowly plodded up the stairs, the little black kitten still nestled softly in his arms, happy purrs vibrating through his chest as he reached over to flip on the light switch at the top of the stairs. With a gentle smile, he softly dropped Storm onto the floor, where she immediately scampered off towards the empty food bowls in the tiny kitchenette, meowing for attention as Yagi settled Angel on the floor beside his feet, the white kitten purring and butting her head up against his shin, and the blond chuckled.

“I suppose I am a lonely old man, with only my cats to keep me company,” he muttered to himself as he tried to step over Angel to drop his grocery bags on the small dining room table, but the little furball was dangerously fast, darting in and out of Yagi’s feet every time he would take a step. She almost managed to trip him up more than once while he was wandering around his tiny kitchen, putting the food away in the refrigerator and dropping several handfuls of dry cat food into the two bowls set side by side against the wall. The kittens immediately nosed their way into the food, their mewls quieted for the moment. Yagi sighed and paused, listening to the silence.

It was far to quiet for his liking.

Yagi leaned back into a long stretch, groaning as his stiff joints popped and cracked from the long workday he’d had, before shuffling over into his small living room, which consisted of a small worn armchair and an old loveseat. The walls were covered with slightly peeling maroon wallpaper, and no pictures were hung anywhere. A small table with a lamp sat next to the armchair, and in the corner of the room stood a small bookshelf; old, worn hardback books sparsely lined the shelves, but it wasn’t a book that Yagi decided to reach for.

Settled on top of the bookshelf sat an old timey record player, and Yagi smiled as he gently cleaned up the player, specks of dust floating through the air, creating a hazy atmosphere and the blond sneezed. Softly lifting the cover to expose the turntable itself, Yagi leaned down to inspect his old collection of records he kept stored on the bottom of the bookshelf, choosing a well-worn album and gently placing the disc on the turntable.

A few seconds later, Frank Sinatra’s voice crooned softly out of the speakers, and Yagi smiled contentedly, turning to glide back into his kitchenette to start the fixings for his ramen. As the noodles boiled and the broth simmered away, Yagi couldn’t help the way his hips swayed in time, his deep baritone occasionally joining in as Sinatra serenaded him, his skilled hands slicing through the vegetables, the teakettle whistling away on the stove.

It didn’t take very long for dinner to be whipped up and the kitchen spotless, as Yagi set his bowl on the table, and chose a new record to fill the silence while he ate. When he came back into the kitchen with a thin book tucked under his arm, Bing Crosby’s clear voice wafted in from the living room.

As Yagi sat down, chopsticks in hand, two little balls of fur hopped up on the table to stare patiently into the blond’s huge blue eyes, and he laughed.

“It would seem I’m not the only lonely one around here,” he chuckled, gathering the kittens into his lap, where they curled up contentedly with full bellies, fast asleep in mere seconds. Yagi sighed, digging into his meal, opening the book he had brought with him, his mind engrossed in the story almost immediately.

A quiet hour later, Yagi couldn’t help chuckling at the wild antics of his favorite fairy, Puck, as he sipped his now cold green tea. A yawn escaped him as he glanced up at the clock on the wall, his eyes growing wide when he realized just how late it had gotten. Quickly he snapped the book closed, gently scooping the two sleeping kittens up into his hands and wandering off into his small bedroom; he softly nestled the two furballs into his spare pillow, before shuffling back into the kitchen to wash his bowl and teacup. He paused by the table before grabbing his book and flicking the lights off.

After completing his nightly ritual of cleansing his face and brushing his teeth, he wandered back into the bedroom, shucking off his work clothes and dropping them into the comfortable-looking armchair in the corner, before gently flopping onto the soft mattress, startling the kittens awake. Yagi smiled, reaching one huge hand over to pet between Angel’s twitchy ears and tickle underneath Storm’s chin, their purrs vibrating right through the pillow.

“Go back to sleep, my little ones,” he whispered as he yawned again, “tomorrow is baking day, so we’ll have to be up extra early.” As the kittens nodded off again wrapped around each other, Yagi opened his book again, flipping through the pages, his mind a million miles away.

***

A loud ringing sounded right beside Yagi’s ear, startling him awake, and he groaned as he reached over to slap the alarm off, the book lying open on his thin chest falling to the floor in his haste. He moaned miserably as he stared at the clock’s readout of 4:15 a.m., throwing his arm over his eyes to block out the light he’d left on all night, trying to doze for a few more precious minutes.

A soft mewl and the nuzzling of whiskers against his cheek pulled a smile from him, as he moved his arm just enough to make out two fuzzy black ears twitching against his skin and he slowly sat up, pulling Storm into his arms. Angel woke up then, her fluffy tail flicking back and forth as she stared from her spot on the pillow. Yagi sighed, reaching over to pat her between her ears, before sliding out of bed and dropping the black kitten back onto the pillow. He hissed softly at the chill running up his legs from the cold wooden floor and he hurried off into the bathroom.

After his morning shower, Yagi pulled on his work clothes: a pair of loose-fitting khakis and a well-worn white tee shirt, tying his navy apron around his narrow hips.

Hurriedly feeding the kittens and quickly scarfing down a yogurt for his own breakfast, Yagi shoved an elastic headband into his hair in a vain attempt at holding back his long blond bangs, and trotted down the stairs, his two furry companions quickly following behind him.

After gently settling the two kittens into their bed in the café’s darkened sitting area, Yagi hastily turned and scurried off to the kitchen to begin his baking for the day.

*

Before Yagi could even blink, it was 7:00 a.m., and he yawned as he flipped the sign on the door to ‘Open’. His baking was nearly finished for the day; all he had left in the oven was a small batch of lemon scones that he had grown rather fond of through his many years of baking. Walking back behind the counter, Yagi flicked the switch that turned on his radio, a catchy upbeat tune playing through the speakers.

As he started up the espresso machine, the bell over the door jingled, and Yagi turned with a smile. A lady in a dark business suit sauntered up to the counter, her blue eyes bright behind crimson frames.

“Good morning Yagi!” she trilled as she leaned up on the counter, and Yagi grinned.

“Morning, Ms. Kayama. What can I get for you?” The woman threw back her head and laughed.

“Oh Sweetie, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Nemuri!” The blond barista chuckled, pouring some milk in a small metal pitcher.

“I am sorry Ms. Nemuri, I can’t help it,” he said softly, placing the pitcher under the spinner attached to the espresso machine and flicking it on, the milk warming and frothing quickly. Once Yagi was satisfied with the temperature, he turned the machine off, pouring two shots of espresso into a to-go coffee cup, and quickly followed with the warm milk. He turned around with a grin, pushing the cup over the counter to the smiling woman.

“Thank you Sweetie!” she smiled as she took a sip of the perfect cappuccino. Her eyes fluttered closed in delight. “How do you always know exactly the drink I want?” Yagi shrugged.

“Just instinct I suppose,” he said with a friendly wink, his eyes swiftly darting up to the clock ticking away on the wall. Just a few more minutes before Mr. Aizawa was supposed to show up.

“Well, I’d better be going. Thank you so much Yagi!” Nemuri called as she sauntered out the door, her hips swishing in time to the end of the catchy song on the radio. Yagi sighed as he turned to wash up his dishes before his most interesting customer arrived. And at promptly 7:26, the doorbell jingled again.

“Good morning, Mr. Aizawa,” he smiled softly at the younger man as he pushed the already made cup of coffee over the counter. Yagi thought his heart would stop beating as the raven-haired man glanced up through his thick, dark lashes and smiled gently.

“Good morning, Mr. Yagi,” he said softly, pushing his glasses a bit further up his nose. Yagi swallowed thickly, his eyes wide. Today, Mr. Aizawa was sporting a simple black button-up shirt and his normal dark jeans. A worn pair of yellow Converse adorned his feet, and his hair was pulled up in a messy bun, a few strands falling free into his eyes. His hand gripped the bag slung over his shoulder, and he reached out to take the mug from Yagi’s hands. “Thank you,” he said so softly Yagi almost missed it, and the blond beamed down at him.

“Of course! Is there anything else I can get for you?” Mr. Aizawa paused for a moment, then, much to Yagi’s surprise, nodded.

“I’ll take a pastry of your recommendation.”

Yagi blanched for a minute, before remembering the scones in the oven.

“Sure! Let me go get one for you; they’re just about finished baking, so I’ll bring one to you in a moment. Is that all right?” Yagi said hurriedly and Mr. Aizawa nodded again.

“Sounds good. I’ll be in my normal spot,” he said as he turned away, shuffling his way over to his seat where Storm was already waiting for him. The second Mr. Aizawa sat down, the kitten was in his lap, rubbing up against his chin with soft mewls, and the younger man actually chuckled, which was a sound that Yagi had never heard before, and his heart pounded away in his chest.

Suddenly, Yagi smelled something resembling nearly burnt lemon, and he gasped, sprinting into the kitchen to remove the scones from the oven. Thankfully, they weren’t burnt, just a bit darker than he would have liked, and he sighed as he whisked up the lemon glaze to drizzle over the top of the scones.

A few minutes later, Yagi scurried out of the kitchen to where Mr. Aizawa sat, a different paperback book in hand and a kitten sleeping soundly in his lap. As Yagi slowly approached, Mr. Aizawa looked up, pushing his glasses up on top of his head and giving Yagi a warm smile.

“Thank you,” he said softly, inhaling the strong lemon scent, his eyebrows furrowing in thought. “A lemon scone?” Yagi nodded.

“Yes, they’re my personal favorites,” he said almost shyly, his blue eyes slowly roving over the younger man’s handsome features, coming to rest on a scar cut deeply beneath his right eye that he hadn’t noticed before, and he sucked in a breath. “What happened…” he started, stopping himself before he actually reached out and touched Mr. Aizawa’s face; the younger man’s dark eyes narrowed, a faint blush creeping up his jawline under Yagi’s sharp gaze.

“Oh, this?” he asked as he reached up to run a finger across the scar, “Workplace accident.” He gave Yagi a soft smile, before turning his back to the blond man. Yagi nodded before slowly starting to walk away, but he stopped, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Is that book any good?” he asked softly as he glanced over his shoulder, and he saw Mr. Aizawa pause, a bite of scone halfway to his lips, and the younger man grinned.

“It is. You should read it sometime,” he said softly. Yagi felt the blush warming his cheeks as he scurried away.

He didn’t get to converse with Mr. Aizawa anymore that morning; once he got back behind the counter, the morning rush hit, and Yagi was flying from one side of the kitchen to the other, coffee and tea brewed to perfection every time.

Once everything died down, Yagi sighed tiredly and glanced over where Mr. Aizawa was sitting; but to his surprise, the seat was empty. Yagi wiped his hands on his apron as he hurried out into the café, blue eyes narrowing. A stack of exact change sat on the table right where he had been sitting, with a hastily scrawled note tucked underneath.

Sorry I couldn’t wait around today. Didn’t realize how late it had gotten. Thanks for the coffee and scone. I can see why they’re your favorite.

Yagi couldn’t help the sappy grin that spread over his lips as he glanced down at the chair Mr. Aizawa had recently vacated. His eyes grew wide when he noticed the book lying in the seat, and Yagi immediately snatched it up. It was the very same book Mr. Aizawa had been reading that morning. Yagi chewed his lip in thought.

He had no idea where Mr. Aizawa worked to deliver it back to him, and Yagi didn’t own a cell phone, not that it would have mattered since he didn’t have Mr. Aizawa’s number anyway. Slowly, he shuffled back behind the counter, book still in hand. He glanced at the cover, intrigued immediately by the title.

“’Trouble & the Wallflower’?” he mumbled to himself. “I’ve never heard of it. I suppose I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to return it,” he muttered under his breath, curiously turning the thin paperback over and over in his hands, Mr. Aizawa’s words ringing through his head.

You should read it sometime.

So that’s exactly what Yagi would do.

*

Yagi had been antsy all day, his eagerness to read the book Mr. Aizawa left behind evident in his pacing and frantic cleaning. Even the cats seemed to sense it, avoiding his feet whenever he walked past.

The moment the clock chimed out four o’clock, Yagi raced to lock the door, nearly tripping over his own feet in his hurry to scoop up his two kittens and bolted up the stairs, grabbing the last remaining scone on his way by.

Yagi quickly dropped the kettle on the stove to boil while he fed the kittens; the two of them were being so affectionate, Yagi couldn’t just leave them to their own devices. So, once they had eaten and Yagi’s tea was cooling, he hauled them up into his arms and plopped down in the armchair in the living room, his tea steaming beside him.

Taking a deep breath, he cracked the book open and was immediately pulled into the story.

Just over three hours later, Yagi snapped the book shut with a contented sigh. Mr. Aizawa was right, it was a really good story: the plot was easy to follow, the dialogue was convincing, and the characters were definitely realistic. Yagi smiled softly as he put himself in the main character’s shoes, the shy boy working in a shop and falling for the troublemaker who always came in to see him.

Then it hit him.

Was Mr. Aizawa hinting at something along those same lines?

Yagi drew in a sharp breath, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

Could Mr. Aizawa possibly be interested in him?

Yagi didn’t sleep a wink that night.

Chapter Text

Yagi tossed and turned all night.

No matter what he did, he couldn’t settle his mind. His thoughts whirled around and around, every single possible scenario taking root in his head, only to be shaken out moments later.

It was nearly three o’clock in the morning when Yagi finally came to a logical decision: he would act absolutely no different towards his favorite customer.
After all, all of this was just a happy accident.

*

By the time Mr. Aizawa strolled through the café door the next morning, Yagi was fairly certain he looked more exhausted than the perpetually sleepy-looking man.

“Good morning, Mr. Aizawa,” Yagi managed to say with a smile, before his face broke into a yawn. As he pushed the coffee mug over the counter, his eyes caught Mr. Aizawa’s; a slight frown creased his features, as he glanced over the top of his glasses at the taller blond.

“Good morning, Mr. Yagi,” he said, slowly taking the mug and holding it gently between his hands. “Are you all right? You look exhausted.” Yagi nodded, rubbing the back of his neck with a bashful grin on his lips.

“I’m fine, just a little tired. I was up late last night,” he paused with a smirk, reaching into his apron pocket and pulling out Mr. Aizawa’s book, pushing it slowly over the counter, “reading this.” Mr. Aizawa’s face remained impassive as he slowly reached out to take the book into his free hand, but Yagi noticed the way his eyes sparkled.

“Did you enjoy it?” the younger man asked softly, his eyes never leaving Yagi’s, as he took a slow sip of his coffee. Yagi gave him a gentle smile.

“I did. I couldn’t put it down.” Yagi caught the smirk Mr. Aizawa tried to hide behind his mug. “I do hope you don’t mind that I read it.”

“Not at all,” he said kindly. “I was just glad to know my reading material was in good hands.” Mr. Aizawa gave Yagi one last small smile, then turned away to saunter over to his seat. Storm was already pacing around his chair, chirping happily up at the sleepy man, and Yagi grinned before wandering back into his kitchen to prepare for the morning rush.

*

Forty-five minutes of craziness later had Yagi yawning sleepily, glancing over at where Mr. Aizawa had been sitting; but, once again, the seat was empty. Yagi sighed, sidling over to pick up the empty mug, and was somewhat surprised to see yet another book lying on the seat of the chair. Slowly, he reached down to pick up the worn hardcover book, smiling fondly as he read the title.

“’Oliver Twist’?” Yagi murmured thoughtfully. “It’s been too many years since I’ve read this one, but I suppose I could refamiliarize myself with it tonight.” Yagi smiled softly, staring out the window and clutching the book to his chest, a warm fluttery feeling welling up in his heart.

Mr. Aizawa had to be doing this on purpose.

Right?

***

It became quite an interesting routine.

Every morning, Mr. Aizawa would come in for his coffee (and the occasional pastry at Yagi’s recommendation) and would always leave a new book behind; Yagi would read it after he finished his work for the day, and return it the next morning. It became a fun and comforting habit, and Yagi began to look forward to it, curiously waiting to see what kind of story Mr. Aizawa would leave behind for him. Most of his selections were classics, with the occasional adventure thrown into the mix.

Once, Mr. Aizawa left him an unfinished, hand-drawn comic strip about superheroes, and Yagi rambled on and on about how wonderful it was and how he couldn’t wait to read the rest of it. Mr. Aizawa chuckled and mentioned that he knew the creator and would gladly pass on Yagi’s excitement.

This went on for nearly a month.

And one particular book caught Yagi’s attention; he never expected to be so engrossed in a book entitled ‘Raise the Titanic’, yet he was.

He had finished his work, and gone upstairs, boiling his nightly tea and snuggling in with his kittens. And immediately after cracking open the paperback cover, Yagi was instantly hooked.

There were adventurers.

Shipwreck diving.

Mysteries.

Humor.

And an incredibly likable protagonist with a sassy sidekick.

There was just something so comforting and yet so unfamiliar about the book, and Yagi was addicted instantly. He finished the book in record time, disappointment clouding his features as he snapped the book closed.

Yagi needed more.

After his normal morning routine was complete and Mr. Aizawa had come and gone (leaving him yet another, different book), Yagi decided to do something completely out of the ordinary. Quickly running around the café in cleaning mode, sweeping up stray cat hair and wiping down the tables, Yagi ripped his apron off his waist, and flipped over the ‘Open’ sign.

After running upstairs to grab his keys and his wallet, Yagi raced out the door and down the street, with a single location in mind.

He was headed to the library.

*

It took a little bit of walking and winding up lost for a short amount of time, but finally Yagi stood in front of the public library. Taking a deep breath, he slowly trudged up the steps and softly opened the glass door.

The first thing he noticed was the smell.

The musty scent of old, worn paper permeated the air, and Yagi could hear the utter silence, feeling as though he were imposing on some sort of secret. As he took a few tentative steps into the building, his eyes were drawn to the mop of wild violet hair and thin shoulders hunched over a well-worn notebook lying on a table a few feet away. Yagi smiled down at the distracted young man, before turning and sauntering up to the librarian’s desk.

The librarian had their back to Yagi, who leaned up on the countertop, his eyes wandering around the shelves of books. After a moment, Yagi’s eyes came to rest on the person in front of him, and he softly cleared his throat to get their attention.

“Yes, can I help you?” came the deep, silky voice of the librarian, as he turned around and Yagi gasped. Wide blue eyes met surprised obsidian, neither man willing to look away. Yagi broke the awkward silence first, his voice raspy.

“Mr. Aizawa?”

Chapter Text

Yagi’s eyes were wide in shock as Mr. Aizawa slowly stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. Somehow, the silence seemed deafening, and Yagi ached to fill it.

“Y-You’re a librarian?” Yagi whispered, and the younger man shrugged.

“I am,” he said simply, his dark bangs flopping into his face. Yagi stared a moment longer, comprehension slowly dawning in the back of his mind. He grinned sheepishly.

“Well, I can see it now. You always have had a sort of…bookish…style about you,” Yagi said softly, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. He jumped as he realized Mr. Aizawa had leaned up against the counter, just inches away, his eyes glittering behind his thin frames.

“Is that a problem, Mr. Yagi?” he smirked, and the blond quickly shook his head, his sharp cheeks tinting pink.

“N-No, n-not at all,” he stuttered, suddenly shy. The librarian stared up into his bright blue eyes, a frown creasing his features.

“Shouldn’t you be in the café? It’s not four o’clock yet,” he asked, reaching up to slide his glasses up into his hair and rub his tired eyes. Yagi slowly shook his head, tearing his gaze away from the younger man’s beautiful onyx eyes.

“I closed up early today. I wanted…” he paused, his eyebrows taking a dip toward his nose, “how do you know what time I close up?” Mr. Aizawa shrugged casually, settling his glasses back down on the bridge of his nose.

“I walk by there every day after I lock up the library. It’s usually around 4:30 or five, so I figured you’d be finished by four.” Yagi’s mouth dropped open, before he shook his head with a grin.

“I apologize, Mr. Aizawa. I honestly never took you to be so terribly observant.” Yagi’s eyes grew wide as he realized the insult he had just thrown at the librarian, his face flushing bright crimson with embarrassment. “I-I mean…o-oh that’s n-not what I meant! W-What I m-meant t-to say is…o-oh god…” Yagi spluttered, completely mortified, burying his flaming face in his hands. The younger man snorted, a small smirk lacing his chapped lips.

“No one ever thinks that,” he shrugged again, his face becoming impassive once more, “I suppose it’s part of my charm.”

Yagi choked, deep laughter flowing out of his chest, and he clamped his hands over his lips, his shoulders shaking. Mr. Aizawa’s face lit up at his expression, a chuckle of his own joining in Yagi’s merriment. The joy was short lived, however, as Yagi’s chuckles turned into a round of hacking coughs, the blond desperately attempting to take in a wheezy breath, his hands coming up to grasp at his chest. Mr. Aizawa’s expression turned panicked as he leaped over the counter in one smooth movement, his hands immediately reaching out for the shaking older man.

“Mr. Yagi?” he asked softly, placing one comforting hand on Yagi’s lower back, “Are you all right?” Yagi finally sucked in a clear breath of air, and nodded slowly, his hands still grasping at the front of his tee shirt even more tightly.

“I’m fine Mr. Aizawa. I apologize for worrying you,” Yagi whispered, his voice raw and raspy, tears of pain pooling in the corners of his bright blue eyes. As he straightened back up, Yagi jumped as he felt another gentle pair of hands on his back. He quickly whipped around to see a wild mop of violet hair standing directly beside him, and he stared down into a pair of sleepy purple eyes, thickly ringed in black eyeliner.

“Um…” Yagi started, but he was immediately cut off.

“Thank you for the assistance, Shinsou.” The teenager nodded, and Mr. Aizawa cleared his throat. “Mr. Yagi, this is Shinsou Hitoshi. Shinsou, this is Mr. Yagi.” Hitoshi blinked slowly, before nodding, an eerily familiar smirk sliding across his lips.

“Mr. Yagi? The cat café owner? The guy you’ve been leaving books and my comics for?” Mr. Aizawa’s cheeks flushed, as he turned his face away. Yagi’s eyes grew wide.

“You’re the one who drew those comics?” The young man nodded, withdrawing his hands and stuffing them deep into his pockets.

“Yeah. I hear you liked them.” Yagi nodded eagerly.

“I did! I was especially fond of the ones with All Might, Japan’s Symbol of Peace,” Yagi said animatedly, pulling a small smile from Hitoshi.

“Thanks. He’s one of my favorites too. Although,” his eyes quickly glanced over to Mr. Aizawa before immediately flicking back, “I probably prefer the underground hero Eraserhead.” Yagi cocked his head in curiosity.

“Eraserhead? I don’t think I’ve read any of those comics yet.” And the next thing he knew, Yagi was being pulled over to the table Hitoshi had been busily working at a few minutes earlier, yanking notebook after notebook out of his worn backpack, flipping to pages of the mysterious hero.

“See, here he is using his power,” Hitoshi pointed to a drawing of his hero; long inky hair floated gracefully over his head, his eyes glowing scarlet, lips set into a grim line. Yagi’s eyes flickered up to the librarian, mentally noticing the physical similarities, before gazing back down in admiration of the young man’s talent. “And he’s got this weapon he can control; he wears it like a scarf, see?” Hitoshi proudly flipped the page again, violet eyes shining in happiness at having someone admire his hard work, and Yagi smiled gently as Hitoshi excitedly pointed to another pair of characters. “And here’s Midnight and Present Mic…”

*

Before Yagi could hardly blink, two solid hours had flown by. He was still sitting, perfectly content, with Hitoshi, who had just a few minutes earlier pulled out a box of pencils and had begun drawing furiously in a new notebook, his black rimmed eyes squinting in concentration.

The teen had considerable talent.

A gentle tap on his shoulder had Yagi whirling around, wide blue eyes meeting onyx. Mr. Aizawa stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“So why did you really come here today, Mr. Yagi? I know it wasn’t to nerd out over Shinsou’s drawings.” Yagi blinked up at Mr. Aizawa.

“Oh! Of course! I was wanting to check out a book,” he said softly, and Mr. Aizawa’s lip twitched.

“That’s an excellent reason to come to the library,” the younger man snarked, and Yagi flushed pink.

“W-What I mean i-is, I wanted to find another b-book like the o-one you left for me yesterday…” Yagi trailed off, shyly pressing the tips of his pointer fingers together. Mr. Aizawa raised one eyebrow in curiosity.

“’Raise the Titanic’?” Yagi nodded eagerly, blond bangs flopping limply into his face. “All the Clive Cussler books are over this way.” Mr. Aizawa turned his back to the blond, pausing when he realized Yagi hadn’t moved. “Follow me.” Yagi sprang up out of his seat, hurriedly shuffling over to the young librarian. Mr. Aizawa slowly started walking away, as Yagi quickly caught up, slowing his steps to keep pace with the raven-haired man.

“Thank you, Mr. Aizawa.”

“Well, this is my job after all, but I’m glad you enjoyed the book,” he murmured, his bangs falling into his face again. “Was there a specific book you were looking for, or just something by the same author?” Yagi thought about it for just a moment before he shrugged.

“I really like the author, but I don’t know anything about his other works.” He glanced down shyly into the dark eyes that had turned up to meet his gaze. “Would you choose one for me?” Mr. Aizawa’s eyes shot wide open at that statement, before he slowly nodded.

“Sure.”

And as he turned down one, long aisle, Yagi followed right behind him, blue eyes wide. The shelves were lined with nothing but adventure books and Yagi felt like he could happily live in this section of the library for the rest of his life. Mr. Aizawa chuckled softly at the wonder-filled expression on Yagi’s face.

“You like what you see, Mr. Yagi?” the librarian asked, and Yagi whipped his head around to stare down at him with a huge grin on his face.

“How does anyone have time to read all of these?” Yagi whispered, reverently reaching out to stroke the spines of a few well-worn books on the top shelf, his eyes wandering along the titles; some were very familiar to him, others were not.

He missed the soft smile Mr. Aizawa gave him.

“I practically live here, and even I haven’t read them all,” Mr. Aizawa said softly, his eyes scanning thoughtfully over the colorful paperback titles. He hummed in satisfaction as he pulled one off the shelf, and turned back to face the taller blond man, only for his nose to gently bump into Yagi’s thin chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry…” Yagi trailed off as Mr. Aizawa’s half-lidded gaze slowly roved up his chest to stare up into Yagi’s wide sapphire eyes.

Neither man dared to so much as take a breath.

And Yagi desperately fought off the temptation to lean down and capture those gorgeous lips with his own.

It was Mr. Aizawa who broke the spell.

“I think you’ll like this one,” the librarian said ever so softly, blinking his dark eyes up at Yagi. The blond quickly nodded.

“Yes…yes I believe you’re right.” Mr. Aizawa moved to step around Yagi, only for the taller man to move at exactly the same time, blocking his way again. “I-I’m sorry…” he said as he slid out of the younger man’s way, Mr. Aizawa brushing past him with a curious look in his eyes.

“I’ll just print you out the return slip and then I suppose you can be on your way…if there’s nothing else I can help you with.” Yagi frantically shook his head.

“N-No, that’s all I came in for, M-Mr. Aizawa,” he stuttered softly, his cheeks flushing once more.

As Mr. Aizawa printed out his slip, Yagi peeked over Hitoshi’s shoulder, grinning down at the page he was drawing. It had All Might fighting some huge bulky monster, his fists flying, and an intimidating look on his rugged face.

“What’s that he’s fighting with?” Yagi asked softly, and Hitoshi paused his frantic drawing to stare up at him.

“This is called a Nomu, and he’s super strong. His strength can rival All Might’s, as you can see here,” Hitoshi explained, flipping back a couple of pages to show Yagi the Nomu’s appearance and All Might bursting down the door to rescue…

“Wait, is that Eraserhead?” Yagi asked, pointing down to a small drawing of a severely injured dark-haired hero in the corner of the page, and Hitoshi nodded.

“Yeah, he got beaten pretty badly, but thankfully All Might is here to save the day!” Yagi chuckled, taking All Might’s signature stance, his face breaking into a huge smile.

“I AM HERE!” he rumbled, his deep voice echoing through the quiet library, and Hitoshi jumped, his violet eyes huge.

“Holy crap, Mr. Yagi,” he whispered, his hands trembling, “you sounded just like I imagined he would in my head.” Yagi grinned down at the teenager, affectionately ruffling his messy hair, a tiny cough forcing its way through his lips.

“That’s exactly what I was going for, my boy,” Yagi said with a small smile.

“Mr. Yagi,” a deep voice said from behind him, and Yagi stiffened as he whirled around, relaxing at the playful gleam in Mr. Aizawa’s eyes. He held out the book for Yagi to take. “Here’s your book, and the slip is in the front.” Yagi gave the younger man a small smile as he reached out to take the book.

“Thank you, Mr. Aizawa,” he said softly, “I look forward to reading this.” Yagi just happened to glance up at the clock on the wall over the door and he gasped in alarm. “I’m sorry, I have to go!” he called, racing towards the door, stopping to give a cheerful wave. And then he was gone.

*

Aizawa watched him leave; the tall, cheerful man even stopped to give him a gentle smile and a wave before slipping out the door. He heard a chuckle from beside him and sighed softly, turning to stare down into bright violet eyes.

“Ok, spill. You’re up to something. What did you do, Mr. Aizawa?” the clever kid asked, crossing his arms behind his head with a dark smirk on his face. The librarian huffed out another sigh, before plopping down in the chair opposite Hitoshi.

“Like I’m gonna tell a brat like you,” he growled, his eyes cutting over towards the door again, as though Yagi would come bursting right back through. Hitoshi grinned even wider, tossing his feet up on the table, and crossing them at the ankles, pulling a scowl from the older man.

“You like him don’t you?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he took in the soft flush creeping up Aizawa’s neck and jawline.

“Shut up.”

*

Yagi hurried down the street, his heart pounding away in his chest.

That was the closest he’d ever been to Mr. Aizawa, and he was even more smitten. The man was the perfect size, just tall enough for Yagi to kiss without having to stretch too far; and his hair looked so soft, Yagi just wanted to bury his hands and his face in it. Plus, the eyes behind the glasses were dark and mysterious, and Yagi ached to see them staring up at him, filled to the brim with love and happiness.

Yagi groaned softly, yanking his hands through his wild blond locks, and tugging on one bang in frustration.

Why couldn’t he just work up the nerve to ask Mr. Aizawa out on a date? What’s the worst that could happen?

Utter mortification at being rejected, and never seeing the man he’d been crushing on again.

“Ok, I’ve got to get my thoughts away from all…this,” Yagi whispered pathetically, as he finally took notice of the book in his hand. “’Pacific Vortex’?” He turned the paperback over and over in his hands, slowly pulling the slip of paper from between the front pages.

And immediately stopped dead on the sidewalk.

The return date was present on the front of the small slip, but it was the messy handwriting on the back that caught Yagi’s attention.

So, I’m not very good at this, in case you couldn’t already tell.

Would you be willing to have dinner with me tonight?

If yes, come to the library at exactly seven.

If not, no hard feelings, and I’ll see you in the morning for coffee.

Yagi stared hard at the paper for a few minutes, absorbing the context of the words and what all that could imply.

Then, he took off down the sidewalk in a mad sprint, a huge sappy grin on his face.

He was going on a date.

Chapter Text

“Seven o’clock, I have to be back at the library at seven o’clock,” Yagi muttered to himself as he frantically fumbled with his keys to unlock the café door. Once he had wrenched it open and slammed it closed again, he raced through the kitchen, stopping in his tracks as a new thought occurred to him. “I wonder if he would appreciate dessert?”

Yagi huffed out a sigh, knowing just how shot his nerves were now.

“Okay, just breathe, Toshi, it’ll be fine. No need to be nervous, it’s just dinner. With Mr. Aizawa. The only person you’ve ever actually admired and liked…like that.” He inhaled shakily, clutching the counter with one hand, his borrowed book held tightly in the other. “I shouldn’t do this. He doesn’t deserve a broken, old man like me. He needs someone closer to his own age,” he groaned, slowly slumping against the kitchen counter, “I can’t do this to him.”

His ears picked up the soft sounds of meowing coming from the café.

Then he heard the door open.

“I thought I locked that…” Yagi whispered, a flash of fear flickering in his eyes.

“Mr. Yagi?” a familiar voice called, and Yagi’s ears perked up as he lifted his head from the cold granite.

“Yes?” he answered, forcing his voice to be calm. As he exited the kitchen, his eyes narrowed softly. “Hitoshi? What are you doing here?” The young man leaned up on the counter, his sleepy eyes serious.

“Okay, hear me out. I know Mr. Aizawa isn’t the easiest person to get along with, you know, with him being the grouch that he is, and how he isn’t terribly talkative. But please,” Hitoshi’s violet eyes were pleading, and Yagi was taken aback, “please go out with him. He’s been the only friend I’ve had these last four years, and he’s been a good father figure to me.” Yagi sucked in a deep breath, but the teen wasn’t finished. “Never once has he dated anyone, the entire time I’ve known him. So, if he’s showing interest in you, then he REALLY must like you a lot. And, if anyone in this entire world deserves to be happy, it’s him.” A single tear slipped out of his bright violet eyes, tracking down his cheek, and the teen clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles went white. “So, please Mr. Yagi, please…” Yagi’s lips curved up into a tiny smile, as he reached out to gently rake his fingers through the wild purple locks.

“Hitoshi, it’s okay,” he said softly, and the young man whipped his head up, tears sparkling in those exhausted eyes and Yagi’s resolve crumbled. “I’m going out with him tonight. I’m going on the date.” Hitoshi’s face blanked, before a huge grin slid across his lips.

“Really? Like, REALLY really?” Yagi threw his head back in laughter.

“Yes, Hitoshi, I’m really going out with hi-” Yagi gasped as Hitoshi vaulted over the counter, throwing his arms around the blond’s neck and yanking Yagi into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” Hitoshi whispered against Yagi’s ear, squeezing his neck just a little more tightly, “thank you for making him the happiest I’ve ever seen him.” Yagi grinned down at the teen entangled in his arms, a sudden thought floating through his mind.

“Actually, Hitoshi, do you think you could help me?” Bright eyes stared up into Yagi’s blues.

“Sure thing! What’s up?” Yagi stared down at the teen nervously, as Hitoshi pulled away, leaning on the counter once more.

“Um…I’m not sure exactly how to ask this…” Yagi felt his cheeks warming, and the teenager smirked knowingly.

“You want to know what’s he’s got planned for tonight.” Yagi nodded eagerly, his eyes shining; Hitoshi grinned wickedly, before slowly shaking his head. “Sorry, but I can’t tell you that. However,” he quickly added as he saw Yagi’s face fall in disappointment, “I can let you in on a little secret, although he’ll probably kill me for telling you this; his favorite dessert is strawberry cheesecake.” Yagi’s eyes shot open in surprise.

“Really? I never would have thought-“

“Yeah, he doesn’t look like a cheesecake kinda guy, does he,” Hitoshi interrupted with a smirk, propping his chin up on his hand. Yagi thought for a moment, before a gentle smile slid across his lips.

“What kind of cheesecake though?” Yagi started ticking the different kinds off his fingers. “Ricotta, New York style, No-Bake, Japanese style, vegan…goodness, I hope he isn’t vegan-“

“You mean, there’s more than one kind of cheesecake?” Hitoshi whispered in shock, his violet eyes wide. Yagi chuckled, before tossing an apron over the counter to the surprised teen.

“Come on back here, kid. We’re gonna figure this out together.” Hitoshi immediately discarded his backpack on a vacant stool, wrapping the apron around his thin figure with a firm salute and a sideways smirk.

“Yes sir!”

*

It was nearly seven, and Yagi was rushing.

Hitoshi had left almost an hour earlier with a wink and a thumbs up, and Yagi had just finished putting the final touches on the cheesecake (and it was a glorious sight, if he did say so himself), and ran upstairs to change. As he flung open his closet, he discovered yet a new problem.

He didn’t have any proper attire for a date.

Frantically, he dug deep in the back, knowing he had a plain white button-up hanging up somewhere, and he let out a triumphant cry as he yanked it out of the closet. It was only slightly wrinkled, but it would do in a pinch.

Thankfully, Yagi was clever, taking the shirt with him to hang on the back of the bathroom door, to steam while he showered. And by the time he was finished, the button-up looked good as new.

He hastily pulled on his nicest pair of dark jeans, and quickly buttoned up the shirt; he slid his feet into his favorite pair of black loafers, stumbling slightly as he yanked on one shoe, and hopped around trying to pull the other one on.

“Now’s not the time to be clumsy, Toshinori,” he muttered to himself as he nearly fell over onto the bed. “I have to hurry, or I’m going to be late.” After tugging his wild blond hair into a low ponytail, and scampering down the stairs to feed the cats, he happened to glance outside.

Where it was pouring the rain.

He hurried over to the closet with a sigh, pulling his worn umbrella from the depths.

After wrapping up his dessert in the café’s signature box, he stepped outside to open his umbrella.

Only to turn around and race back inside to grab a coat.

The warm autumn temperature had dropped significantly throughout the day, and the rain only added to the chill in the air. Yagi stepped quickly down the sidewalk, his pace hurried; he truly didn’t want to be late.

But a store display window caught his eye.

*

At exactly 6:58p.m., Yagi made his way up the steps of the library, closing up his umbrella and shaking off the excess water just before he opened the door.

To his surprise, the building was nearly dark, a few flickering lights leading the way into the depths of the library.

“Hello? Mr. Aizawa?” Yagi called softly, his blue eyes wide with concern. A sudden delicious smell assaulted his nose, and he breathed in deeply, pleasantly surprised.

Pasta? No…alfredo to be more exact.

Wait…were they eating here?

“You’re right on time, Mr. Yagi,” a voice stated softly from the darkness ahead, and Yagi squeaked in shock.

“Oh, Mr. Aizawa, you scared me!” he gasped out, as a dark figure emerged from the shadows, a single match lit in his fingers; the flickering orange light cast his youthful face in an eerie glow, and the librarian gave his visitor a gentle smile.

“Come on in, dinner will be ready in a moment.” The younger man turned to walk away, before glancing over his shoulder, a smirk lit in his dark eyes. “Please, make yourself at home.” And with that, he shuffled away, blowing out the match as he left.

Yagi curiously crept forward, his eyes flying open at the sight before him.

A small round table had been set up, complete with a black fabric tablecloth; a handful of white candles had been lit in the center. Polished silverware was aligned perfectly with the cream-colored plates, and two empty wine glasses sat at the head of the place settings. And scattered around in the darkness, dozens more flickering candles warded off the shadows, the soft glow giving an almost romantic atmosphere to the air. Soft violin music was playing from somewhere nearby, and Yagi thought he was going to have a heart attack.

Mr. Aizawa had put a lot of effort into this date, and all Yagi had done was make dessert.

“May I take your coat, Mr. Yagi?” Yagi jumped again; the librarian had managed to silently walk up directly behind him without the blond noticing. And this time, when he turned around, Yagi got a good look at his host.

Mr. Aizawa was dressed in a pair of black jeans and his normal Converse were nowhere to be seen; in their place he wore a simple pair of black dress shoes. Yagi’s eyes roved upward, taking an appreciative glace at the deep charcoal grey button-up that hugged Mr. Aizawa’s figure, the long sleeves rolled up just below his elbows and the top two buttons left undone to reveal a small patch of dark curls on his chest. His long hair was nicely brushed and left to dangle around his shoulders in loose, damp waves, and his chin was free of stubble.

And his glasses were missing, giving Yagi his first real look at Mr. Aizawa’s dark, soulful eyes.

“Y-Yes, t-thank you,” Yagi stuttered out, before shaking his head. “Oh, I nearly forgot,” he said softly as he handed Mr. Aizawa the box from the café; the librarian chuckled at the image of crimson, navy-blue and golden cats prancing in a line across the top of the white box. His dark eyes glanced up to meet Yagi’s.

“What’s this?” A bright scarlet blush tinted Yagi’s cheeks as he suddenly became very interested in the swirling pattern on his shoes, his voice just barely above a whisper.

“Dessert.” Mr. Aizawa frowned, lifting the lid just a tiny bit, before quickly closing it back, his dark eyes wide in surprise.

“How’d you know?” he whispered. Yagi flushed even harder, making Mr. Aizawa narrow his eyes in understanding. “Shinsou. That little rat-“

“Please don’t be angry with him, Mr. Aizawa,” Yagi blurted out, “he just so desperately wants to see you happy.” Mr. Aizawa’s eyes softened and he sighed.

“He really told you that?” he chuckled out, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, “Damn brat.” His dark eyes landed on the extra bag hanging from Yagi’s wrist, and he quirked up a curious eyebrow; Yagi caught his look and blushed again, shyly holding out the bag.

“I’m sorry, I know this may be forward of me, but I saw it and immediately thought of you…” Mr. Aizawa remained expressionless as he slowly pulled a long woolen scarf from the bag, and Yagi’s heart sank in disappointment and panic. But not even a moment later, the younger man had slowly wrapped the deep maroon scarf around his neck and buried his nose and chin into the soft fabric, a smile sparkling in those onyx eyes.

“Thank you, Mr. Yagi. It’s absolutely beautiful.” Yagi gave him a soft smile, gently reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair behind Mr. Aizawa’s ear, gasping softly and jerking his hand away as he realized what he was about to do. The younger man stared deeply into Yagi’s bright blue eyes, as he reached out and caught Yagi’s hand, and the blond sucked in a deep breath. “It’s all right,” he said quietly, pulling Yagi’s hand over to his cheek, a gentle smile on his lips, “I won’t bite.” Yagi chortled nervously, every nerve in his fingertips tingling from the younger man’s touch.

“M-Mr. Aizawa…”

“Shouta.”

“…I beg your pardon?” Yagi asked, his eyes widening in surprise, and Mr. Aizawa chuckled.

“My name. Shouta Aizawa.” He smiled up at the surprised blond. “Please feel free to call me by either one.” Yagi gently brushed his thumb over the younger man’s sharp, smooth cheek, just underneath his scar.

“S-Shouta,” Yagi whispered experimentally, and Aizawa shivered, his eyes falling closed.

“Yes?”

“You may call me Toshinori…if you like.” The younger man smiled.

“Very well then, Toshinori,” he glanced up into the bright blue eyes framed by two long blond bangs, blinking slowly through long, dark lashes, “may I take your coat?” he asked again. His lips quirked up into a grin, and the blond smiled, shrugging out of his long, black trench coat.

“Yes, thank you,” he said softly, draping his coat over Aizawa’s outstretched arms. The younger man turned and began to walk away, calling out over his shoulder.

“Please have a seat, Toshinori, I’ll just be a moment longer.”

As Aizawa disappeared around the corner, Yagi slowly slid into one of the chairs, admiring the thought and care that had gone into this date. He hadn’t even eaten yet, and he was already feeling spoiled beyond measure.

“Shouta,” he whispered again, the name rolling off his tongue with a tingling pleasantness.

“I hope you like pasta, Toshinori,” Aizawa stated as he appeared once more, his arms cradling a large plate of creamy alfredo and Yagi’s mouth watered at the sight.

“I do, thank you.” The younger man gently settled the plate in the middle of the table and turned to go back where he had come from. “Is there anything I can help with Shouta? I feel useless just sitting here while you work,” Yagi asked softly. Aizawa slowly shook his head.

“No, it’s all right. There’s just a couple more things to grab out of the kitchen. And besides,” Aizawa stared at Yagi with such an intense gaze, the blond thought he could see directly into his soul, “tonight is for me to take care of you.” Yagi coughed, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

“T-Thank you,” Yagi whispered, his long fingers gently grazing over the stem of the wineglass in front of him, “I suppose I’m not used to being taken care of like this.” The younger man frowned.

“You mean…” he trailed off as his eyes widened in understanding.

“Shouta, I haven’t been on a date in many years. I usually keep to myself at the café. And besides…” Yagi blushed, hiding his reddening cheeks behind his long bangs, “you’re the first person that I’ve ever been interested in.” Aizawa’s eyes grew wide at his words, his own crimson blush creeping up his cheeks and he shyly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, I hope I’m your last,” he muttered to himself, and Yagi frowned up at him.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” The librarian stiffened and shook his head.

“Nope.”

Quickly turning on his heel, Aizawa shuffled back off to the kitchen. A couple of minutes later, he reemerged from the back, a salad bowl balanced expertly on one arm, a tray of garlic bread held gently in his hand. And a chilled bottle of sparkling rosé wine he held tightly in his opposite hand. Yagi thrust his hands out to help grab the salad bowl from Aizawa’s arm, and the younger man smiled down gratefully.

“Thanks. It’s been awhile since I carried anything like that,” he stated simply, settling the salad bowl beside the steaming plate of pasta. Pulling a corkscrew out of his pocket, he set to work opening the wine, while Yagi took it upon himself to dish out portions of their dinner. As the cork popped, Aizawa flushed in embarrassment.

“I forgot to ask. Do you drink?” Yagi chuckled.

“Not very often, no, but I’ll gladly try a glass.” Aizawa smiled with relief, slowly pouring a small serving of the rosé into their glasses. After setting the bottle of wine on one of the side tables and sitting down in his chair opposite the tall blond, Aizawa propped his elbows on the table, his dark eyes boring into Yagi’s blues. Yagi stared right back, his cheeks flushing at the sudden attention.

“So, tell me all about yourself, Toshinori.”

Chapter Text

Yagi’s eyes grew wide at the sudden bluntness.

“I-I…what?” he stuttered out, his cheeks quickly growing pink. Aizawa stabbed a piece of pasta with his fork before swirling it in the rich, creamy sauce.

“I’d like to know more about you, Toshinori,” he stated simply. The blond swallowed thickly.

“U-Uh, w-well yes, o-of course. W-Where should I begin?” Aizawa smirked at him, chewing slowly before answering.

“I suppose the beginning would be the most logical place to start.”

“O-oh yes, well, hmm,” Yagi hummed, his thoughts whirling around and around in his head. “My name is Toshinori Yagi, I’m…quite a bit older than you, and I own and work in a cat café as the barista.” Aizawa snorted.

“I am well aware of those things,” he chuckled, reaching over to gently rest his hand over Yagi’s trembling fingers, “please relax, Toshinori. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I just want to get to know you. The real you.”

“The real me?” Yagi whispered, and Aizawa nodded.

“Would you feel better if we asked each other questions? So, you’re not quite so on the spot? And then you can get to know me as well.” Yagi nodded gratefully.

“Please.” Aizawa took another bite, chewing thoughtfully, until a grin slid across his lips.

“What’s your favorite food?” Yagi chuckled, finally scooping up a bite of the alfredo and sticking it into his mouth. The rich taste of garlic, cream and parmesan spread across his tongue.

“I’m rather fond of ramen,” he admitted, “and I honestly prefer tea over coffee.” Aizawa’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“You mean to tell me, you work with coffee all day, and yet you drink tea?” Yagi nodded slowly.

“I used to drink quite a bit of coffee when I was younger and liked to stay up late.” Aizawa frowned as he noticed a flash of sorrow in Yagi’s bright blue eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “But that was a long time ago, back when you were probably just a boy,” he chuckled, the mirth in his laugh not quite reaching his eyes. Aizawa quickly schooled his features into a neutral expression as Yagi coughed lightly. “I suppose it’s my turn to ask you a question.” Aizawa nodded.

“Go ahead.” Yagi thought for a moment, taking a shallow sip of his wine.

“Why did you want to become a librarian?” Aizawa paused a moment, clearly thinking out his answer, sipping his wine slowly and staring over the rim of the glass, onyx eyes boring into sapphire.

“I grew up without any friends,” he started softly. “It was just me and my mom, and she worked three jobs to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table.” He heard Yagi gasp softly. “She was gone most of the time, and the only thing I had to keep me company was…books. I taught myself how to read at the age of three and I was reading every book I could get my hands on after that. It became my life, my passion.”

“What about your mother?” Yagi whispered. Aizawa huffed out a quiet sigh.

“She died about four years ago. Lung cancer.” Instantly Yagi’s fingers were twined with his across the table.

“Shouta…I’m so sorry.” The younger man quickly waved him away.

“It’s all right. I was able to take care of her towards the end, and she didn’t have to work anymore.” He took a long swig of wine. “She’s not suffering any longer, and for that I’m grateful.”

“Still, it must have been hard for you to lose your mother,” Yagi said softly, his grip on Aizawa’s hand tightening slightly.

“I knew it was coming. It gave me time to say goodbye.” He glanced up into Yagi’s bright blue eyes. “I met Hitoshi the day after the funeral when he came flying into the library to get away from some bullies.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I may or may not have taken that kid under my wing.” Yagi chuckled.

“That much is obvious, Shouta. The boy adores you.”

“I wanted to adopt him.” Yagi’s eyes flew open in surprise.

“What?” Aizawa shrugged.

“I wanted to adopt Hitoshi,” he repeated. “But he’s seventeen now and he’ll be of legal age in a couple of months. Plus, he’s had a good upbringing. His foster parents take excellent care of him, but he complains about the noise.” Aizawa’s lips curled up into a grin. “He’s not the only foster child that family has. He has four foster siblings, all younger than he is. Since he’s fairly self-sufficient, his parents pretty much let him do as he pleases as long as he stays out of trouble.”

“And to stay out of trouble, he stays with you most of the time?” Aizawa nodded, stuffing another bite of pasta into his mouth.

“As soon as he’s out of school for the day, he’s at the library with me. And once I close up, he’ll usually join me for dinner before he heads home.” Aizawa shook his head with a small smile. “All right, my turn.” Yagi grinned.

“Go right ahead.”

“Why’d you open a cat café?” Yagi paused, his eyes flicking away for a split second before meeting Aizawa’s once more.

“I’ve always liked cats. And I can’t stand to see those poor, precious animals treated cruelly. I used to volunteer at the shelter many years ago, but it just broke my heart to see two or three new cats be dropped off every day. And they weren’t being adopted quickly enough.” Yagi quickly shoved a bite of pasta into his mouth, surprised to notice how rapidly his food was disappearing. “I opened the café to help out the shelter, by giving them another building to use for some of the older cats who were less likely to be adopted. And it gave me a business of my own.” He gave Aizawa a gentle smile, reaching over the table to tightly clasp his hand again. “I’ve always enjoyed baking and making coffee, so it made perfect sense for me to open a café. And the cats love my customers.” As he spoke, a thought floated through his mind. “Shouta, why does Storm like you so much? She always seems to be waiting on you.” Aizawa’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Storm? Who’s th-…oh. The black kitten,” he muttered; Yagi couldn’t help but notice the scarlet flush tinting his cheeks. “Her name is Beans.” One eyebrow quirked up as Yagi proceeded to choke on his sip of wine. “Before you ask, I didn’t name her. My friend did.” Yagi’s blue eyes flew open at the sudden understanding.

“Wait, if your friend named her, then…”

“Yes, Toshinori,” Aizawa grunted, pouring another glass of wine for himself, “she was my kitten before you found her outside your shop.” He quickly held up his hand to stop the obvious onslaught of questions. “I moved across town to be closer to work, and the apartments I rent from don’t allow pets of any kind. My friend couldn’t take her because he’s allergic, and I didn’t trust the shelter. They claimed that they were too full on space and I didn’t want her to have to deal with several hundred other cats and risk her getting sick.” His eyes dropped to stare at the tiny pink bubbles floating up to the surface of his drink. “Your shop was my last resort. I happened to walk by there one evening after work and noticed the cats through the window.” His darkened gaze flickered up to Yagi’s bright eyes. “You were sitting in the middle of the room, cats swarming all over your legs and clawing up your apron and you looked so terribly happy and content. I knew Beans would be happy and safe with you.” Tears began to well up in Yagi’s eyes.

“Shouta, I had no idea,” he rasped, his voice thick, “why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Would it have made a difference? I still can’t let her live with me,” he muttered, tossing back the rest of his wine. Yagi frowned.

“If I had known, I would have kept the shop open a little later to let you in to spend more time with her.” Aizawa’s eyes flew open at the statement.

“You would do that for me?” he asked softly, his cheeks growing rosy. Yagi nodded.

“Of course, I would, Shouta,” he stated, taking another small sip of wine. “She’s your kitten and you belong with her. It’s rather obvious now that I know. She adores you.” Quickly, before he could say another word to embarrass himself, Yagi shoved the last bite of pasta into his mouth and pushed away from the table, picking up his plate as he went. “I’ll do the dishes, since you cooked,” he stated softly before walking back towards where he assumed the kitchen was.

“Uh, Toshinori, wait!” Aizawa called out from behind him, but Yagi quickly shook his head with a smile.

“It’s all right, I don’t mind! It’s only…fair…” he trailed off as he laid eyes on the kitchen. He had expected pots and pans, sheet trays and tableware to be strewn around the kitchen.

He did not expect take out boxes.

“Shouta-“

“I can’t cook, Toshinori,” the younger man mumbled from behind him and Yagi turned to stare down at him. Aizawa huffed and stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, his cheeks flaming underneath his long hair. “The only thing I’m remotely good at cooking is instant ramen, and half the time it’s either burnt or soggy.” At his words and innocent pout, Yagi chuckled and before he knew it, his entire body was shaking from laughter.

“Oh-Oh Shouta,” he wheezed a moment later, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes and he grinned down at the scowling man. “I can teach you how to cook. It’s not difficult.” Shouta’s eyes widened in surprise, his jaw dropping open.

“You would do that?” Yagi nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his keyring.

“I’d be more than happy to. Besides,” he smirked pulling a single silver key off the ring, “it gives you the perfect excuse to come visit Beans. And hopefully, me,” he whispered before offering the lone key to the shocked man before him. “This is the key to the shop door as well as the back door into the kitchen.” When Aizawa hesitated, Yagi couldn’t help the way his chin dropped to stare at his shoes. “I know we’re not dating, but I’d like to think of us as friends, if that-“

“Who said we’re not dating?” Aizawa interrupted, his voice soft and deep and Yagi’s eyes immediately flicked up to stare into serious, sparkling onyx. He sucked in a deep breath when the younger man reached out and gently took the key from his fingers. “Toshinori, you’re an incredible man and I would most certainly like to see where this goes. So…” he softly trailed off, his cheeks flushing once more as he leaned up into Yagi’s space, “would you go out with me again? As my boyfriend?”

Yagi could feel his heart pounding in his thin chest and his breathing quickened, but he nodded all the same, his eyes staring down at the perfect pink lips parted just slightly in anticipation. “Yes, Shouta, I would be very pleased to go out on another date with you,” he whispered, and the younger man slowly reached up to brush his long bangs away from his cheeks, his hands gentle as they caressed Yagi’s skin.

“Good. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” he smirked, his eyes flicking up to stare into Yagi’s, “may I please kiss you?” Yagi’s breath hitched at the question and his heart raced even faster than it ever had.

And he nodded once more.

Without another word, Aizawa stood up on his toes and ever so gently pressed his lips against Yagi’s, his hands still cupping the blond’s cheeks. His lips were warm and soft, and Yagi knew he’d died and gone to heaven as he wrapped one arm around Aizawa’s waist, pulling a pleased groan from the librarian. Aizawa, however, kept the kiss short and chaste, slowly pulling away a moment later and staring up into Yagi’s hazy blue eyes.

“You’re a good kisser,” he muttered, running a hand through his long locks and Yagi paused before shaking his head.

“I…haven’t had much practice, Shouta,” he whispered, mortified by his lack of experience. The younger man snorted.

“Oh please. I’m sure men and women of all ages come flocking to you every hour of the day,” he chuckled. Yagi sighed and turned back to the kitchen sink, placing his plate in the basin and turning on the water. While he waited for the water to heat, he quickly rolled up his sleeves.

“There aren’t any men that are attracted to me other than you,” he muttered, picking up the sponge and dish soap, “and there’s one woman who’s always coming into the shop and trying to flirt with me. I don’t think she knows I’m…not attracted to her, even though she is quite pretty.”

“What’s her name, Toshi?” Aizawa asked, wrapping his arms around Yagi’s thin middle, and the blond chuckled at the concern in his voice.

“If I’m not mistaken, her name is Nemuri Kayama,” he chuckled, and he felt Aizawa’s arms stiffen.

“Does she have dark hair and wears the most blinding pair of red glasses?” he groaned, and Yagi paused, a frown on his face.

“Yes, that’s her,” he stated softly, peering back over his shoulder into Aizawa’s dark tired eyes, “why? Do you know her?” The younger man nodded slowly.

“Yeah. She and I went to school together and she’s dating my friend Hizashi,” he moaned into the back of Yagi’s shirt and the blond chuckled.

“Well now I can tell her I’m taken,” Yagi said softly, pulling what sounded like an agreeable purr from the man behind him. “Now, bring me the rest of the dishes, Shouta. I'll just wash them and wrap the cheesecake back up. We'll eat it tomorrow when you come to the shop to see Beans. Then, I’ll walk you home.” The arms around his waist squeezed just a little tighter.

“You don’t have to do that, Toshi,” Aizawa muttered.

“Yes, I know, but I’d really like to.”

Chapter Text

After Yagi walked Aizawa home, hand in hand and kissed him goodbye on the street below his apartment, Yagi made the trek back home. As he walked through the rain, his thoughts whirled around and around through his head.

He had fallen hard for the sullen librarian.

And his cat.

As he approached the shop, Yagi slowed, a frown on his face.

A young boy was curled up underneath the awning of the shop, thin coat barely keeping the chill away and doing nothing against the rain. Big green eyes stared up into Yagi’s blues.

“Are you all right?” Yagi asked softly, crouching down to the boy’s level, holding his umbrella up over him. The boy nodded.

“Y-Yes,” he shivered, “just c-cold.” Quickly Yagi stood and unlocked the door to the shop. He offered the boy his hand with a smile.

“Come on in. I’ll make you some tea.”

*

After helping the boy dry off and getting him a spare dry shirt and a pair of Yagi’s sweats, rolled up to nearly his knees, Yagi set a steaming cup of tea in front of the boy. With a tired groan, Yagi slid into the chair next to him.

“What’s your name?” Yagi asked softly, his face gentle. The boy gripped the tea mug tightly in shaking hands, Storm fast asleep on his lap.

“Izuku. Izuku Midoriya.”

“And what were you doing outside my shop?” Izuku sighed.

“The cats looked soft and warm. And you have an awning to keep the rain away. It was the driest place I’d found so far.”

“Where’s your parents?” Yagi asked, immediately regretting his decision when huge tears welled up in those emerald eyes.

“M-My dad died years a-ago when I was little, and m-my m-mom died l-last week. I-I’ve been living with a f-foster family b-but they wanted to s-send me back to the o-orphanage.”

“Orphanage? Izuku, do you have a case worker?” The boy nodded slowly, reaching down to pet between Storm’s little twitchy ears.

“Her name is Miss Kayama. She’s nice, but she wants someone to adopt me. But I don’t wanna just go to some family who doesn’t know anything about me!” Izuku burst into tears and Yagi just sat there stunned. The lady that was friends with Aizawa and who frequented his shop was a social worker? Quickly shaking his head, Yagi slid out of his chair and gently wrapped his arms around the shaking boy.

“Shhh, it’s all right, Izuku,” he cooed softly, rocking the boy back and forth, “it’s all right. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but everything will get better. I’m so sorry about your mother.” At the mention of his mother, Izuku started sobbing even harder, soaking Yagi’s tee shirt shoulder. “And no one will ever replace her. No one. And no one should try. But that doesn’t mean you won’t find someone who loves you and wants to take care of you.” Izuku sniffled a little before leaning back to stare into Yagi’s sincere blue eyes.

“W-Would you take care of me, Mr. Yagi? I can help out in the shop! I’m a hard worker,” he asked, those huge emerald eyes pleading. Yagi was taken aback, yet he couldn’t stop himself from actually thinking about it. Aizawa had thought about it with Shinsou, why couldn’t Yagi actually do it with this sweet boy who had no one in the world to love him?

He was just like Yagi, twelve hours ago.

And Yagi didn’t have any children. Why not adopt an heir to his shop and small livelihood?

“Do you go to school around here?” Yagi asked and Izuku nodded.

“I did, but I haven’t been since my foster parents talked about getting rid of me.” Yagi sighed, his mind racing.

“Okay, I’ll think about it. I’ll talk to Miss Kayama tomorrow when she comes in for coffee.” Yagi gasped as Izuku threw his arms around the blond and squeezed tightly.

“Oh, thank you thank you!” he squealed in excitement and Yagi couldn’t help chuckling.

“Like I said, this is only temporary until I make a final decision. But if you’ll follow me, I have a loveseat upstairs that you can sleep on tonight.”

*

The next morning, Izuku was up before Yagi, helping him with the baking for the day and learning how to open up the shop. The boy learned quickly and was more than enthusiastic to do well in Yagi’s eyes. Yagi couldn’t help but admire the little teen.

The bell jingled just after seven, and in sauntered Miss Kayama. She looked rather frazzled and Yagi couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Good morning, Miss Kayama,” he said, pushing a ready-made cappuccino across the counter, “is something wrong? You look exhausted.” Miss Kayama shakily took the coffee and downed half of it in one gulp before she started talking.

“So, this is going to sound very bad, but I lost one of my kids last night. I’m a social worker and one little boy ran away from his foster parents.” Yagi just nodded along, leaning up on the counter intently. “I haven’t been able to find him anywhere and I’m worried sick that something’s happened to him.” Gently, Yagi patted her shoulder.

“Izuku is fine, Miss Kayama,” he whispered, throwing his thumb over his shoulder, “he’s currently icing my scones for the day.” Miss Kayama’s eyes bulged out of her skull at his words, staring back into the kitchen at the little green haired boy at the counter, tongue caught between his teeth in concentration as his eyes glanced between the scones and the book lying open on the table before him.

“You mean…he’s been here?!” Yagi shook his head.

“He showed up on my front step last night. I found him as I was coming back from a date.” Immediately Miss Kayama’s eyes lit up.

“You were on a date? With whom?” she asked curiously, sipping on her cappuccino.

“Shouta Aizawa.” Yagi chuckled as she proceeded to spit her drink all over the counter.

“Y-You’re the one who went out with Sho last night?” she shrieked, the noise bringing Izuku running from the back.

“What’s the matter, Mr. Yagi?” he asked, his eyes landing on Miss Kayama and he shrunk back, looking for all the world like he was about to take a mad dash out the back door. Quickly Yagi reached out and wrapped an arm around the boy’s trembling shoulders.

“Everything is fine, my boy,” he stated softly, and he felt Izuku relax against his side, “Miss Kayama was just worried about you.” She nodded, wiping up foam from the countertop.

“I really was Izuku. You scared me when your foster parents called and told me you were missing.” Izuku pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“They don’t care about me. They wanted to send me back to the orphanage,” he muttered, his freckled cheeks flushing in anger, “what did I do to deserve being treated like property and not a person?” he shouted.

Just then, the bell above the door jingled again, a couple of familiar faces walking into the shop.

“I’m sorry, are we interrupting something?” Aizawa asked, Shinsou hot on his heels, a smirk on his youthful face. Yagi shook his head with a smile.

“No not at all. Miss Kayama was just looking for her ward,” he answered, quickly turning to brew Shouta’s coffee. “Shinsou, what’s your drink of choice?” he called over his shoulder, but the teen didn’t answer. Yagi turned to look, a grin splitting his face when he saw the look in Shinsou’s eyes.

The teenager was staring at Izuku, a gentle look in his violet eyes, and a flush painted his cheeks. Aizawa was looking at Izuku, who’s face held the exact same expression as he stared at Shinsou.

“Uh oh,” Yagi thought, stirring three spoonfuls of sugar into two cups of coffee and sliding them over the counter for Aizawa to pick up. Miss Kayama quickly backed out of the way, motioning for Yagi to come talk to her. The blond slid out from behind the counter and settled himself in the chair next to her.

“Yagi, I have several questions for you,” she started, and Yagi nodded. “First, Izuku looks healthy, albeit thin, but he seems happy here. Are you willing to foster him since he seems to have taken a liking to you?” Yagi hesitated, glancing over at the freckled boy who stood talking shyly with Shinsou. Aizawa had made himself comfortable with Storm. Yagi nodded.

“Yes, I’ll happily foster him, but eventually I’d like to adopt him. He’s a good kid and I have no children of my own. But before all that, I’d like to get to know him better, and him me.” Miss Kayama quickly nodded her head in agreement.

“Oh of course. He’s a wonderfully intelligent child, but he’s headstrong at times.” Yagi chuckled at that. “Now that we’ve gotten that figured out, tell me about your date with Sho! He’s seemed so happy and content here lately and I hadn’t been able to figure out why. Now I know!” she exclaimed. Yagi chuckled and proceeded to tell her all about the wonderful library date Aizawa had treated him to.

*

After spending nearly an hour with Miss Kayama, Yagi finally got to speak to Aizawa. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to the younger man’s.

“Good morning my dear,” he murmured into Aizawa’s ear and the librarian chuckled deeply.

“Morning. Do I smell lemon?” he asked, and Yagi nodded.

“Want a scone? Izuku made them this morning.” Shouta looked around Yagi’s shoulder at the young boy, who was deep in conversation with Shinsou.

“Nice kid. Who is he?”

“He’s my ward after I sign the papers this afternoon,” Yagi whispered. Aizawa looked up at him, his eyes curious.

“Ward? You mean you’re fostering this kid?” Yagi nodded.

“Yes. And I hope to adopt him after we’ve gotten to know each other better. That is, if he’ll have me. I hope you don’t mind.” Aizawa snorted.

“Anyone would be happy to have you,” he mumbled shyly, “I should know. You’re mine and I’ve only had you one day, and I can tell you that no one else on this earth has made me as happy as you have. And of course, I don’t mind. You need someone to help out around the shop, and to keep you company while I’m not here.” Yagi chuckled.

“I feel exactly the same way, Shouta.”

Chapter Text

After Aizawa and a very reluctant Shinsou left for the day, Yagi decided to close up the shop. Izuku had just finished washing the last coffee mug when Yagi wandered over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Izuku, I doubt you want to sleep on my loveseat forever, so once you’re finished, we’ll go clean out my spare room that I’ve just used as storage for the last several years.” Izuku immediately brightened at his words.

“You mean…I can stay?” he whispered, and Yagi nodded, handing over the already signed paperwork.

“It just needs your signature, Izuku,” Yagi stated, completely unprepared for the onslaught of tears and the arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“Oh, thank you, thank you Mr. Yagi! I promise I’ll work very hard for you!” Yagi chuckled, wrapping his arms around the much smaller boy.

“Izuku, I’m not just hiring you. I’m going to foster you until you get to know me well enough that I feel comfortable adopting you.” Izuku pulled back, tears streaking down his freckled cheeks.

“Y-You wanna ad-adopt me?” he whispered and Yagi nodded again, pulling the boy into his arms.

“Yes. I have no children of my own and I’ll need some help looking after the shop.” He pulled away, wiping the tears from the boy’s eyes. “I’ve just recently started dating someone, so I’ll be seeing him more often, and I’ll be going out more as well. The shop will be your responsibility once school lets out for you. And when it’s time to close up the shop, you’ll finish your homework and then the rest of the evening is yours to do as you please.” Yagi chuckled. “I’m not a hard man to get along with, I promise. And I’ve never been a parent before, so I’ll do my best.” Izuku nodded with a blinding smile.

“Thank you sir! I’ll do my best to be the best son and worker I can be!”

*

After thoroughly cleaning the spare room and realizing that there wasn’t a bed or anything for a bedroom in the room, Yagi decided to go shopping and Izuku wanted to tag alone to help pick out his new furniture. As they wandered by the library, Yagi stopped. Izuku took a few more steps, then paused when he noticed Yagi’s gaze.

“Your boyfriend works in the library, right?” he asked, shyly slipping his hand into Yagi’s. The blond nodded.

“He’s the man who brought Shinsou in for coffee this morning.” Izuku’s eyes widened as a scarlet blush took residence upon his cheeks.

“O-Oh him, yes Sir,” he stuttered, his eyes not quite meeting Yagi’s. The blond chuckled, giving Izuku’s hand a squeeze.

“Do you want to come in or would you rather wait outside? I’m going to invite them to join us,” Yagi stated softly, noticing as Izuku’s swallowed noisily.

“I-I’ll come with you,” he whispered. Yagi nodded, making his way up the steps.

“I promise Shinsou doesn’t bite,” Yagi whispered into Izuku’s ear as he opened the door to the library, making the young teenager gasp in shock. And immediately, Yagi’s eyes met Aizawa’s.

“Ah, Toshi, I wasn’t expecting to see you again today,” he mumbled, and Yagi noticed the blush creeping up on his cheeks. The blond smiled.

“Izuku and I are heading into town to buy him some furniture for his bedroom and we thought you and Shinsou might like to come along. Then I suppose we could get dinner somewhere or we could all go back to my place and I could cook us something,” Yagi added in hopefully, his bright blue eyes meeting shy black. Aizawa nodded.

“That sounds nice, eh Shinsou?” he called, and the violet haired teen popped his head around the corner, a book in one hand and a half-eaten apple in the other. He nodded, his cheeks puffed out and Izuku chuckled, bright emerald eyes meeting wide purple. Aizawa flashed Yagi a devastating smile while the boys were distracted. “And maybe you and I could have some time alone tonight?” he whispered, making Yagi’s heart race and his cheeks flush bright crimson.

“Y-Yes, I’d like that very much,” he whispered back.

*

Izuku wasn’t a picky boy by any means, but he still made sure to take his time, looking through all the bedding and dressers, wall art and desks that he could. Aizawa and Yagi were content to just wander along behind them, occasionally brushing their hands together. Finally, after nearly two hours, Yagi’d had enough. He reached down, tightly clasping Aizawa’s hand in his own, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I’ve wanted to hold your hand in public since the moment I met you,” he rumbled deep into the smaller man’s ear. Aizawa shivered with his nearness and the words he spoke.

“I’ve wanted the same,” he grumbled, giving Yagi’s hand a squeeze back, “but I’ve been too nervous to do it first.” Yagi chuckled.

“Come on, my dear, let’s get Izuku and Shinsou rounded up. I’m craving a nice bowl of ramen.”

*

Yagi took everyone back to his apartment, showing the two guests up the stairs and shooing the two teenagers away toward Izuku’s room, telling them to put Izuku’s new furniture together while he and Aizawa made dinner. Izuku and Shinsou giggled, running off down the hall with the boxes of furniture and disappearing into Izuku’s room.

While they were busy, Yagi took Aizawa into his little kitchen, showing him how to prep the vegetables and simmer the homemade broth. The dark haired man concentrated so hard while chopping the vegetables, intent on making sure they were all cut to the same size, and Yagi chuckled at his antics, wandering off into the living room to flip on the record player to something upbeat, and a moment later, a Frank Sinatra song floated into the kitchen. Yagi grinned down at Aizawa, pulling him away from his knifework and taking him into his arms, gently swaying along to the beat of the song. Aizawa stiffened at first, then gently wrapped his arms around Yagi’s neck, pulling the tall, willowy blond closer against his lean and lithe body. Yagi gasped at the feeling, before nuzzling his cheek against Aizawa’s hair.

“This is nice,” Yagi whispered, twirling Aizawa away and the younger man chuckled, taking control and twirling Yagi until his back was pressed against the wall of the kitchen.

“Yes it is,” he answered, stepping up on the tips of his toes to press a kiss to Yagi’s lips, causing the blond to huff out a sigh. They stood like that, their heads twisting and turning to get better angles when they heard a soft chuckle from the doorway. Aizawa pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting his lips to Yagi’s swollen ones. “What is it, Shinsou?” he growled, and Yagi chuckled, hiding his flaming face behind his hands. Both boys grinned and stared at each other.

“We were hungry and wanted to see how long dinner was gonna be, but I guess you two have already snacked on each other’s lips.”

And Yagi laughed as Aizawa chased Shinsou around the table, while Izuku wrapped his arms around Yagi’s thin middle, staring at the boy with love in his emerald eyes.