The bell above the convenience store door rang at two in the morning, that soft, familiar chime cutting through the quiet hum of refrigerators.

Kwan looked up from behind the counter, long dark hair tied low at the nape of his neck, black face mask hiding half of his stupidly pretty face. He worked the late shift at one of the most popular convenience stores in the city, the kind that was always packed with students, drunk office workers, and couples grabbing ramen at midnight. Even in the harsh fluorescent lighting he looked unfairly good. Shorter than most guys, built lean but solid, muscles obvious beneath his tight black T shirt. Not huge, not bodybuilder big, just enough to make people stare. Which they did. Constantly.

Girls left their numbers on receipts. Guys lingered too long in the snack aisle. Kwan ignored all of it.

The door shut with a heavier thud this time.

Junseo walked in like he owned the damn place.

Tall. Expensive black coat. Rings on almost every finger. Tattoos crawling up his neck and disappearing beneath his shirt collar. Silver piercings flashing under the lights. He smelled like cigarettes and some rich, sharp cologne that didn’t try to be subtle. He didn’t even look at Kwan at first. Just grabbed a basket and started tossing things in. Chips. Energy drinks. Imported chocolate that cost way too much.

Kwan watched him anyway.

Because holy shit.

Junseo finally looked up when he reached the counter. Their eyes met. Kwan’s were sharp and dark above his mask. Junseo’s were lazy, almost bored, but focused in a way that made Kwan’s stomach tighten.

“You gonna keep staring or you gonna ring this up,” Junseo said, voice low and rough.

Kwan blinked once. “You gonna keep buying the whole damn store or is that it.”

Junseo’s eyebrow twitched. Then he smirked.

“That it for now.”

For now. What the hell does that mean.

Kwan scanned the items, trying not to notice how Junseo leaned on the counter like he had all the time in the world. Like he wasn’t stupidly rich and probably had somewhere better to be.

“You work here every night,” Junseo asked.

“Yeah. Problem.”

“No.” Junseo tilted his head slightly. “Just didn’t expect someone like you to be stuck behind a register.”

Kwan scoffed. “Someone like me. What the hell does that mean.”

Junseo’s gaze dragged slowly from Kwan’s eyes down to his arms, where his sleeves strained slightly when he moved, then back up again.

“It means,” Junseo said quietly, “you look like trouble.”

Kwan felt heat crawl up his neck. Thank god for the mask.

“Total’s thirty two thousand,” he said flatly.

Junseo paid in cash. Of course he did. Rich bastard.

When Kwan handed him the bag, their fingers brushed for half a second. Static shot up Kwan’s arm. He swore under his breath.

Junseo noticed.

“You always swear this much,” he asked, a hint of amusement breaking through his cool expression.

“Only when annoying customers show up at two in the damn morning.”

Junseo stepped closer instead of backing away. Close enough that Kwan could smell the smoke in his hair.

“Good,” Junseo murmured. “I’d hate for you to be polite with everyone.”

The bell rang again as Junseo pushed the door open.

He paused before stepping out.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he said, like it wasn’t a question.