Noah’s gaze drifted to the empty coffee cups on Kyro’s desk.

“You’re overdoing it with the caffeine,” he said gently.

Kyro laughed. “Probably.”

“You know,” Noah added quietly, “my offer of dinner wasn’t a one-time thing. If you’re working late again… don’t starve yourself.”

Kyro felt something dangerous spark inside his chest.

“Thank you, Noah,” he said before he could stop himself.

Noah didn’t correct him.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

The air between them shifted—heavy, charged. Noah’s eyes lingered on Kyro’s face… then flicked to his lips.

Kyro’s breath caught.

Then Noah pulled back.

The warmth vanished, replaced by cool control.

“Good night, Kyro,” Noah said briskly. “Get some rest.”

He turned and left.

Kyro stayed frozen at his desk, heart pounding, shame and longing tangling together.

He had imagined it again.

Or worse… he hadn’t.