Seunghyeon growled at his phone and stuffed it into his apron pocket. “Stupid, hyung. Why couldn’t you wait till tomorrow to go to the hospital,” he muttered.

He turned around to see Kwangsun squinting at the baked goods display in his obnoxious orange jacket. Was this guy trying to be a traffic cone? Kwangsun’s eyes flicked up and he smiled. “Are you going to let me in now?”

Grumbling, Seunghyeon ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, yeah,” he said and waved his hand. “I doubt your uniform is in yet, but we have extra aprons,” he said as he led Kwangsun to the back and into the cramped locker room. “You can put your stuff in any locker,” Seunghyeon said and crossed his arms, leaning against the door.

“Got it.” Kwangsun unzipped his jacket, revealing a fitted black t-shirt. Seunghyeon pursed his lips. As Kwangsun stuffed his bag and jacket into the top locker, it stretched around his muscles, untucking from his jeans, daring to rise up to expose more definition underneath.

Seunghyeon tore his eyes away, clearing his throat. “Didn’t Hyung tell you to wear something beige or cream,” he scolded, gesturing to his own uniform shirt.

Kwangsun shook his head. “Wasn’t told a thing,” he said and gestured to his chest. “What’s wrong with my shirt?” It’ll get hidden by the apron anyway,” he said as he grabbed a random apron off the hook. Thankfully, the apron also covered the outline of his chest.

Rolling his eyes, Seunghyeon led him back to the front. “Do you know how to use an espresso machine?”

“Yeah, of course,” Kwangsun said and tilted his head side to side as he studied the machine. “Is this the ON button?” he asked, pointing to the single-shot button. Seunghyeon frowned.

“Dude, for real. You have to tell me if you know how to use it,” Seunghyeon interrupted. “I can’t have you breaking this.”

Kwangsun laughed. “I’m kidding. Obviously, I know,” he said and pressed the right button, the machine whirring on.

Unamused, Seunghyeon crossed his arms. “Sure. Okay,” he said and pointed under the counter. “There’s the coffee grinds and cups. Make me an Americano.” Kwangsun gave him a curious look and Seunghyeon waved his hand. “Chop chop.”

Kwangsun shook his head with a chuckle and looked around for the port-a-filter and filled it with ground coffee grinds. Seunghyeon tapped his foot, biting the inside of his cheek. He had to admit, there was a lot less pressure knowing Kwangsun had experience. But this was one cup, could Kwangsun handle rush hour?

Kwangsun set the mug on the counter next to Seunghyeon with a proud smile. “Done.”

Eying the top, the colour was good. He watched Kwangsun clean up over the rim and huffed. Apparently, he did have the ability to clean up after himself.

Shaking his head, Seunghyeon took a tentative sip. The coffee was smooth, with no stray grit from poorly pressed grinds and no bitter aftertaste. Seunghyeon took another sip with a frown. It was annoyingly refreshing.

“Good enough,” he mused, warming his hands with the cup and taking another sip.

“Told you I know how to use it,” Kwangsun said, winking. Seunghyeon rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that good.

Customers soon poured in as lunchtime rolled around. Despite Kwangsun knowing how to use the machine and the other coffee methods, orders were slow due to the sheer amount of times they’d bump into each other.

Seunghyeon gasped and stumbled back, almost dropping the matcha cake. “Eh, listen. You make the coffee. I take the orders and serve the food. Got it?” Seunghyeon scolded. At this rate, he was bound to break something.

“Okay, okay,” Kwangsun held his hands up defensively. “Why don’t you just pass them to me, though? Then you’re not crossing over,” he said, gesturing from the cashier to the serving counter.

“Are you telling me how to do my job?” Seunghyeon snapped, placing his free hand on his hip.

Kwangsun shrugged. “Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’. “Just a suggestion.”

Seunghyeon pursed his lips. He looked down at the cake in his hand and shoved the plate towards Kwangsun. “Here.”

Kwangsun broke into an amused smile and took it, placing it on the counter, along with its corresponding coffee. Seunghyeon ran his fingers through his hair as he took the next order. One good idea didn’t mean anything.

As the rush died down, more customers idled at the counter, chatting up with Kwangsun. Annoyingly, Kwangsun happily entertained them. Joking around with them was fine, but Seunghyeon cringed every time Kwangsun flirted back with a customer. That’s how stalkers are made.

The bell above the door chimed and Seunghyeon smiled at the bubbly omega. “Hey, Ruby. Nice to see you again.”

Ruby adjusted her red beret, switching her briefcase to her other hand. “Is it Thursday already?” She grinned. Her Korean was noticeably better. “How are you Seunghyeon? How’s Taeyong?”

“I’m good. So is Hyung,” he said and tapped the tablet. “The usual?”

“Yup,” she said and looked around as Seunghyeon filled out her order. She went quiet before grabbing Seunghyeon’s arm, startling him. “Who’s that?”

Seunghyeon followed her eyes and sighed. Kwangsun was in the middle of chatting with a customer over the food display, probably telling one of his corny jokes by the way they both laughed. “Oh, that’s Kwangsun. He’s new.”

Ruby’s eyes sparkled, staring through Seunghyeon as he went around Kwangsun to the espresso machine. Seunghyeon scrunched his nose. Gross.

“He’s cute,” Ruby whispered, eying Kwangsun.

“Really?” Seunghyeon amused her by looking over with a shocked expression. He was a mixture of sharp and soft features. His jaw and eyebrows were expected of an alpha, but his eyes, nose and lips were rounded. Sure, they didn’t look bad, but only from an artistic perspective. “Meh, I don’t see it.”

“What? You’re kidding,” Ruby whispered and tsked. She continued to eye him, humming as she stood on her toes. “How tall do you think he is?”

Seunghyeon shrugged. Why would he know? Keeping his eyes on the frothing milk, he leaned over. “Eh, Kwangsun. How tall are you?”

Ruby gasped when Kwangsun looked over. “180 cm.” He caught Ruby’s gaze and gave her a half-smirk and a wink. Seunghyeon rolled his eyes when she froze, blushing.

She whipped around and leaned in, whispering. “How much is that in feet? I hope it’s over 6.”

Seunghyeon’s eyebrow twitched and he held back a smirk, forcing his mouth into a sympathetic frown. “Sorry, but it’s actually 5’10.” Seunghyeon leaned over the counter, cupping his mouth, whispering back. “His shoes are tall. He’s compensating.”

“Oh.” Ruby bit her lip and glanced over at Kwangsun apologetically. “Um, could you tell him I’m not interested then?”

“Of course,” Seunghyeon said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks,” she said and clutched her coffee and pastry, beelining to the door, ignoring Kwangsun’s wave.

Kwangsun dropped his hand and squinted at Seunghyeon. “What did you say?”

Sticking his nose in the air, Seunghyeon shrugged. “Nothing,” he hummed as he tapped out the filter. “Just told her your height in feet. She doesn’t date anyone under 6 feet.”

“But I’m 181 centimetres,” Kwangsun furrowed his brow, calculating. “That’s 6 feet.”

“Whoops.”

Kwangsun shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

Seunghyeon shrugged, pulling a lemon cake onto a plate. “You should be grateful. You don’t wanna date someone so superficial.”

“Like you?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Seunghyeon chuckled, dragging his tongue over his teeth. That’ll get him. To his surprise, Kwangsun stifled a laugh. Seunghyeon glared at him. “What?”

“You’re having fun, aren’t you?” Kwangsun said, thanking the customer before pulling away to start the order.

“Fun? Man, what’s wrong with you?” Seunghyeon rolled his eyes and picked up the tray, serving the lemon cake and two drinks to the customers seated by the window.

Walking back, he ignored Kwangsun’s cheeky smirk, until he was back behind the counter, crossing his arms. “Explain. I don’t have time to try to decipher your weirdo thoughts.”

Kwangsun continued to smile and nudged him with his shoulder. “You enjoy working with someone you know outside the cafe.”

“Both my brothers work here.” Seunghyeon crossed his arms. “You’re not special.”

“But I’m your only friend that works here.”

Seunghyeon gaped at him. “We”—he poked Kwangsun’s chest—“are not friends.”

Unaffected, Kwangsun grinned. “Then what are we? Acquaintances? We’ve known each other too long for that.”

“You can be acquaintances with someone for 4 years,” Seunghyeon corrected and pulled back, waving his hand. How could Kwangsun not have noticed what they were after all this time? “We’re rivals.”

“Rivals?” Kwangsun nodded slowly, letting the title settle as he completed the order. Once the coffee was set and swept away, Kwangsun nodded again, smirking. “That’s pretty cool. Rivals. Yeah, that makes sense, I guess.”

“Yeah, obviously,” Seunghyeon snapped. He gritted his teeth and turned away, dragging his tongue against the edge of his canine. “So, no. It’s not fun having you around.”

“I don’t see why it can’t. Rivalries are fun. I’m having fun,” Kwangsun said, laughing.

What an asshole. Of course, Seunghyeon was the only one to take it seriously. Kwangsun couldn’t take anything seriously to save a life. Sighing, Seunghyeon ran his fingers through his hair, marching into the back. “I’m taking a break.”