Chapter 2
Steve woke up to a line of heat against his side and smiled even as he turned his head, smile widening to a grin as he caught sight of Harry, still asleep, curled against him, head tucked against his shoulder. He smoothed his thumb along Harry’s ribs, where he knew his first words to the man were hidden under the soft grey t-shirt - and pressed a kiss to messy dark hair when Harry shifted in his sleep.
He had to get up - had to get Harry up - but he liked these last few moments in the morning where it was just the two of them.
Not that it wasn’t often just the two of them, but there was only so long he’d been able to keep Harry a secret from the team, and if he was being honest, he also hadn’t wanted to keep it a secret all that long.
It had been nice to be able to share something happy for once.
Even still though, Harry kept mostly off the radar - none of them wanted to endanger the man on purpose, and he and Steve had kept Harry’s magic mostly under wraps. The others just thought he was mildly enhanced. Neither of them had decided to correct anyone.
He pressed another kiss to Harry’s hair.
“Go back to sleep.” Harry muttered, drilling a finger into Steve’s side. “It’s too early. Let’s take a day off.”
Steve just grinned.
“Can’t. Buck’s back from a mission today. I told him I’d meet him, and you told he could come by for dinner as soon as he was back.”
That had Harry’s attention.
It had caused a bit of strain between them 3 years back; when Bucky had turned up, turned out to be the Winter Soldier, and Steve had been willing to chase him all over the world.
It had been Harry stepping in that had allowed Steve to step back and see that his perspective was skewed and he'd been willing to take it way too far - willing to give up other friendships for one he didn’t even know he could salvage.
He and Harry had fought over it - brutally - until Harry asked if he’d rather Bucky was his soulmate because that’s how Steve was acting. Needless to say, Steve had been appalled Harry would think that, but it had put things in perspective.
Harry, however, hadn’t given up on him. Instead, once Steve had finally agreed to step down, Harry had gone off citing family business for a couple of days, and when he’d shown back up it had been with Bucky in tow.
Both of them had been bruised and bloody, and Harry had looked furiously grim, but they’d stood together, outside their apartment door, and Bucky had turned himself over.
It had taken a further 2 years for Bucky to fully rehabilitate - to get rid of any trigger words and work through some of his PTSD.
Surprising to everyone but Steve, the other man had felt most comfortable talking to Harry, despite the fact that Harry had assured him that nobody, not even Bucky, had seen him use magic. Since Harry was also who Steve most preferred talking to, the others chalked it up to similar experience and left it at that.
And now, here they were.
Harry opened his eyes, looking up at Steve, and the blonde swooped down to give him a kiss. Harry rolled his eyes but shifted to get up.
“Fine, fine. Alright. We’ll do a late dinner. Marcy can’t come in for the evening shift, her son’s sick, and no one else can cover. Why don’t the two of you bring take out.”
Steve nodded, even as he hooked an arm around Harry to pull him back.
“5 more minutes.” He said then, and Harry laughed but didn’t struggle.
20 minutes later had them both out the door; Harry to the café downstairs, Steve to meet Bucky at the compound.
It was as Harry prepared the first batch of pastries for the day that he thought about just how crazy his life still was.
He’d thought, when he came to America, that his life would slow down. He’d finally have the anonymity that he’d craved his entire childhood - finally be able to just disappear into a crowd.
Then he’d found Steve.
He was still fairly anonymous in comparison to his youth, but there were still days where he had the likes of Tony Stark popping through his café or that one time with the arrows and Clint was still banned from the premises no matter how much he begged.
He liked that it wasn’t about him - the fame and interest - not that he didn’t know Tony was still trying to figure out what he claimed Harry was hiding. Since he wasn’t wrong, Harry didn’t argue, but he didn’t agree either. He figured eventually the genius would figure it out, but since it had been 5 years and counting, he wasn’t holding his breath.
Shaking his head, he focused on finishing up the morning prep so he could open up shop.
>>>
Harry was beyond frazzled. Everything that could go wrong, had. The coffee machine had started acting up, spewing grounds everywhere, and then the oven had decided to cough out smoke despite the fact Harry had just cleaned it out.
Then, when changing a coffee syrup, the glass of the bottle had been faulty because the moment Harry unscrewed the cap it exploded all over him, slicing up his palm in the process and leaving him stinking of overly sweet pumpkins.
He’d managed to hold down the fort until closing but he was seriously considering dropping the closed sign in the door the next day just to recuperate. Not to mention he needed a repair man. Closed it was.
The door was locked and the curtains were drawn, so Harry didn’t think anything of it when he flicked a hand towards the broom and dustpan and let them start to clean up the residual coffee mess, and had a rag and bucket go around mopping up spills. The chairs stacked themselves on each table once it was clean, and the mop moved under those tables as the chairs went up.
With a sigh, Harry peeled off the bandage on his hand, poking at the raw looking cut with a frown.
He moved behind the bar, not even paying attention to the store anymore as he tapped his wand against the rune under the counter, watching the latch slide open to reveal extra potions and the like.
He grabbed the salve for cuts and burns and turned just as he heard the key in the backdoor that led to the kitchen.
“Perfect timing.” He mused, pushing the kitchen door open with his hip in time to see Steve and Bucky walk through. “Hey, can you give me a hand with this?” He asked, offering up the jar.
Steve frowned at the sight of the jar, gaze jumping to Harry who offered up his hand. Bucky let out a low whistle at the injury even as Steve hurried forward.
“Jeez, Harry, how’d you manage that?”
“Curse of the pumpkin spice.” He complained as Steve opened the jar, applying the salve with practiced ease. As familiar with the kitchen as they were, Bucky moved to where the bandages were kept, bringing forward a strip to tie off the hand while it healed. Harry beamed at him, pleased. He really did like Bucky after all, and he was glad the other man felt comfortable enough here to be so familiar. The man leaned forward, giving a sniff, and grinning when Harry grimaced at the pumpkin smell.
“So, what’d you two bring for dinner?” Harry asked in deflection, taking back the jar and heading back out to the bar to put it away.
“Curry. I know you’re a sucker for the vindaloo from the place by the compound.” Bucky noted, and Harry laughed.
“I hope you got me my own because I’m not sharing this time.”
Bucky snickered even as Steve flushed.
“What? It was right after a mission. I was hungrier than usual.”
Harry hummed at the excuse, sharing a grin with Bucky.
“Right then, upstairs. I’m finished here for the day.” He took a running jump to leap onto Steve’s back as the blonde headed for the door, and pouted when Steve didn’t even stumble under the attack.
“Oh, I forgot. I’m staying closed tomorrow. I’ve got to get someone in to fix the oven and the espresso machine.” Harry told him as Steve carried him out, locking up before following Bucky up the stairs to the apartment above.
Steve shot a look at him over his shoulder.
“What happened?”
Harry shrugged, more than a little put out.
“Whatever it is, it’ll be fixed or replaced tomorrow.” Then, before either super-soldier could say a word, he cut back in. “And don’t go telling Tony. Last time he tried to replace something it sassed back more than the both of you combined.”
Both were wisely silent on the matter, though it didn’t mean Harry missed the shared look.
When they stepped inside the apartment, Harry immediately moved to the kitchen, starving.
“Bucky, why don’t you clear the table. Steve can unpack food.”
“Pass me the plates?” Steve asked, and was not at all surprised when 3 plates floated his way as Harry went to gather cutlery by hand. He took the plates out of the air without a second thought, stacking them together before taking them out to the dining room. Harry followed moments later with cutlery and placed it all on the table Bucky had cleared.
“Drinks!” Harry realized with a snap of his fingers, and then got up, meeting the cups in the doorway where he plucked two out of the air and let the third follow him to the table.
He dug into his vindaloo then, nudging it away from Steve when the other man’s fork tried to sneak into the curry.
He felt eyes on him and looked up to find Bucky staring at him, body frozen and an almost wild look in his eyes.
“Bucky, are you ok?” Harry asked, frowning, drawing Steve’s attention as well.
“Buck-” Steve began, frown of his own in place, and that’s when Bucky’s gaze shifted between them.
“What the fuck?”
Frowning further, Harry and Steve exchanged a glance.
“What?” Steve prompted, concerned. Bucky’s gaze just moved back to Harry.
“What the fuck?” He repeated. Harry didn’t understand, and with a glance at Steve, knew the blonde didn’t either.
“Bucky, what’s wrong?”
Bucky reached out, hand closing around the glass that was floating in the air at shoulder height, and placed it on the table.
For a moment, Harry could only blink.
Steve’s sharp inhale is what gave it away, and it was then that Harry realized what he’d done. He was so used to handling things with magic at home, especially whenever he injured something, that he hadn’t even thought twice about doing it now - even with a guest in the house. And it was hardly like Bucky was a guest at this point anyways.
He winced, glancing at Steve, who only stared back a minute before he started to laugh. Softly at first, but then in grew; an exasperated, yet amused sound, that Harry couldn’t help but join in on.
“Well. Guess that cat’s out of the bag, huh?” Harry asked, but his nerves were singing. “I should probably tell you then - I’m a wizard.”
Bucky just looked between them, that same expression of ‘what the fuck’ still clear. Then, it shifted, and his eyes narrowed between them.
“Does Tony know?”
The two of them were silent a moment before Steve shook his head.
Bucky’s grin was slow, but real.
“He’s going to be spitting gears when he realizes I found out before him and it was by complete accident.”
Harry let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding as Steve laughed again and clapped Bucky on the shoulder.
He wondered how long it would take Bucky to hint one too many times and for the others to find out.
He wondered what it meant that he really didn’t mind. With a chuckle of his own, he decided the only way to find out would be to wait and let it happen.
He found he didn’t mind that so much.