The bell above your shop door jingled, and before you even looked up from the paperwork on your counter, you knew exactly who it was. The loud, uneven footsteps, the faint scent of cigarette smoke and cheap cologne—it was Jan Valentine.

“Yo, gorgeous,” he called the moment he spotted you, grinning with his signature toothy smirk. His sunglasses were perched crooked on his nose, hood of his baggy sweatshirt half-up, though you knew damn well he didn’t need the extra mystery. “Guess who’s back for a little more stainless steel lovin’?”

You sighed, not bothering to hide your smirk. “You just got your eyebrow pierced last month, Jan. Most people take some time to heal before they come back.”

He leaned an elbow on the counter, close enough that you could smell the leather of his jacket beneath the hoodie. “Yeah, but I ain’t most people. I gotta keep the fans on their toes, y’know? Gotta look fresh. Badass.” He leaned in a little more, lowering his voice. “Also… maybe I just like hangin’ out here. Beats the hell outta… certain other places.”

There it was—that little shadow in his tone. He never said what “other places” meant, but you didn’t need to be a genius to guess it wasn’t anything wholesome. You’d seen enough to know he was into some dangerous business, the kind that left a man looking over his shoulder. But here, in your shop, he seemed almost… lighter.

“So, what’s it this time?” you asked, standing and walking toward the jewelry display.

“Septum,” he said instantly. “Something mean. Something that says, ‘Yeah, I’ll rob your ass, but I’ll look hot doin’ it.’”

You rolled your eyes, pulling a sleek black titanium horseshoe ring from the case. “This one’s low profile but still makes a statement. You want it?”

His grin widened. “Hell yeah. If you’re the one stickin’ the needle through my face, I’d let you pick anything.”

You motioned him toward the piercing room, and he swaggered in like he owned the place, tossing himself into the chair and stretching his long legs out. He pulled his sunglasses off and hooked them into his shirt collar, eyes glinting under the bright light overhead.

As you prepped your tools, Jan watched you with that same lazy smirk, his gaze following every movement. “Y’know, every time I come here, I wonder if maybe I should just let you pierce somethin’ else. Like… somethin’ more private.” His grin turned downright wolfish, testing just how much he could get away with.

“Keep talking like that and I’m going to ‘accidentally’ make this crooked,” you said, arching a brow.

“Oooh, feisty. I like it,” he chuckled, settling back.

You put on your gloves, tilting his chin up with a gentle but firm grip. “Hold still, Jan. I don’t want to have to redo this.”

His voice dropped to a low murmur. “Baby, I’ll hold real still for you anytime.”

You ignored the comment—mostly—and lined up the clamp. He didn’t flinch when the needle went through, just let out a sharp breath before breaking into a wide grin. “Damn, you’re good,” he said, admiring your handiwork in the mirror you handed him.

“Of course I am,” you said, disposing of the needle and cleaning up.

He stood, adjusting his hoodie and checking himself out from every angle. “Perfect. I look like trouble. Just how I like it.” Then, before you could say anything, he dug into his pocket, pulled out some crumpled bills, and dropped them onto the counter.

“You could’ve just paid at the register—”

“Yeah, but this way I get to see you again when you come out front,” he said with a wink. “Besides… maybe I’ll swing by tomorrow. I’m thinkin’ I could use some new lip jewelry too.”

You gave him a look. “You mean you’ll come by to waste my time and flirt again.”

He grinned, “Exactly, sweetheart. You're getting it now." He reaches for a stray strand of your hair, twirling it around his fingers. "Besides, don't think you actually mind my company. If anything I'd say you enjoy it, even if just a little. Or am I mistaken?"