As much as I would like to open the shop early to find out what those three are doing here, I refrain from doing so. Rare is the time I open or close outside of my usual hours as it helps me with tracking time and I don't want to make an exception even for friends.

I've always had difficulty with paying attention to time, and developing a rigid schedule for some things was necessary for me to run my shop.

So instead of opening my shop five minutes early to find out why Ryan, Adam, and Nick (the friends-with-benefits I met up with last night) showed up before I even opened, I continue checking to make sure things here are presentable. I do sneak a few peeks at the trio as I work, though.

Adam's in what's mostly his usual outfit, with a skintight, dark grey sleeveless shirt that shows off that light muscle definition of his, black shorts, and dark brown leather boots. No additional gear this morning.

Ryan's dressed in a loose-fitting red shirt and black shorts, along with black, grey, and red sneakers. Unlike Adam or Nick, he looks a little bit ruffled and anxious, and that lets me know that he's probably here about his accidental send last night. Did that really make him this upset that he came here with two guys who are probably acting as emotional support?

Nick looks like he's doing his best not to laugh at the situation, being the only one between the three who knows I'm really not bothered by the accident. Not because I'm gay, but because I understand accidents happen and he's known me outside of a professional setting long enough to know this well.

Like the other two, Nick's fairly attractive in the looks department, and he stands 5'10" in height with a slender build. As a tracker who can teleport, he doesn't have much need for building muscle definition in his opinion. His hair is a dark grey as a result of the strong spatial affinity born from the last eight generations of his bloodline having and using it, and his eyes are a bright orange. The outfit he's chosen for today matches his own casual norm, which is a pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt, this one slightly close-fitting.

When it's time to open, I unlock the door and almost immediately, Nick is entering.

"Morning, Evan!" He waves and flashes a smile. "So this is the inside of your shop, huh?"

He's never been inside of it before, or in my workshop. While I have let him into my home a few times, that's not part of the shop so he's only looked in from the outside, and the security enchantments in place block the interior from view while the shop is closed.

"It is," I say.

"Cozy!" He says as Adam and Ryan follow him in. "So I heard something interesting happened yesterday!"

"I'm sorry!" Ryan blurts out. "That was an accident, Evan, and-"

"I understand," I tell him as I walk behind the counter. "Accidents happen all the time. You rearranged your contact icons and tapped my name out of habit when trying to tap someone else's and acted on habit before realizing you were in the wrong chat. That's part of why I have mine to blur such images, just in case someone does that by accident when I don't have their profile set up to automatically show them."

"I know you said it was fine yesterday," Ryan says. "But I really am sorry, Evan. I should have been more careful and-"

"Before this goes any further," Nick snickers. "Evan, part of why Ryan's freaking out is because-"

"Don't say it!" Ryan tries to interrupt, but Nick doesn't pause, getting it out at the same time as Ryan's protests.

"-Ryan's bisexual," Nick gives Ryan an amused look before looking back at me. "He's worried you'd think he was trying to be a creep who sent it on purpose if you found out."

"I've known you long enough," I say as Ryan's face turns scarlet in embarrassment. "To know that was a genuine accident, Ryan."

"Some guys react really negatively when they know someone who did that is into guys," Ryan mumbles. "Think it was intentional and stuff, and that it's me, I dunno, trying to make a move or something. Logic doesn't exist in irrationality. But it was an accident, and I wasn't trying to make a move on you or anything."

"He's had a massive crush on a shopkeeper for years," Nick says. "Never actually said who they were, but I'm guessing it's you."

"Nick!" Ryan exclaims.

That does explain some things about him, like the slight difficulty with small talk he's had at times.

"Ryan," I say. "Nick is being so bold because he knows something you don't. While I didn't look at the picture, the idea of having received one from someone as attractive as you turned me on enough that after I finished my Daily Dungeon and cleaned up, I asked Nick if I could come over for a couple of hours."

"You're into guys?" Ryan asks.

"I am," I confirm. "And I do both find you attractive and think you have a good personality."

"You do?" Ryan looks uncertain.

"I do."

Relief fills his face, and he moves closer to the counter.

"In that case," Ryan says. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"I would," I answer. "Friday or Saturday evening works best for me."

"How about Saturday evening?" He asks. "Say… five or six?"

"I want to try and get both my Daily and Weekly Dungeons done on Saturday," I tel him. "Can we make it six-thirty, to give me enough time to make sure I'm done, cleaned, and ready to go?"

"Sure," he says. "I can meet you here."

"Okay," I say. "Just head up to the deck upstairs, then. Would you be okay with discussing more about the date and our potential relationship when I'm not working?"

"Sure," he says. "And thanks, for not being upset about… y'know."

"As I said," I smile. "I know accidents happen and you're not the type of guy to do that on purpose."

Ryan opens his mouth to say something, except all three of them receive pings on their phones.

"That's probably a help request," Adam pulls his out. "For a Dungeon outside of town."

"Same," Ryan says.

"Same here," Nick says. "I guess they're getting a bit desperate with the lower Dungeon spawn rates," he looks at me. "I don't know if you saw the report, but there were seven percent fewer Dungeons last week than the week before."

"Desperate?" I ask. "Why would the bureau worry about Dungeons outside of the city limits?"

"Resources," Ryan answers as he checks his phone. "Some of the more critical government infrastructure runs on materials harvested from Dungeons in the Category 5 levels. They're probably wanting to stockpile, so they're laying claim to Category 5 Dungeons in the area outside of the city as well."

"Ah," I say. "And they contacted all three of you?"

"It's a Category 5-2 Dungeon," Nick says. "So yeah, they want all three of us."

"Actually," Ryan says. "Mine's a Category 5-3, so I'll probably be working with another group."

"Good luck to all of you," I say.

"Thanks," they say.

They all bid me goodbye, then leave. I pull a book from under my counter and start reading while I wait for a customer to arrive. Only a couple show up, normal customers rather than the Rank 4s and 5s that I've had showing up in droves the last two days.

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About three hours into the shop being open, Ryan sends me a picture of him in the Dungeon, dressed in his delving gear and posing with the remains of a large minotaur, a somewhat humanoid bull beast with dark brown fur. This one is a selfie taken by Ryan rather than someone else, and the minotaur in the picture has silvery horns rather than the normal, pale cream-yellow ones the beasts ordinarily do.

As fitting of a Category 5-3 Dungeon, it had a rare variant of minotaur within it. The variant present in the picture is a species which can bend light and metal, and those horns are made of a durable alloy which can sell for a lot.

[Ryan]: Check out this big boy!

[Evan]: How difficult was it?

[Ryan]: Not too bad we had a great party composition

We talk for a few more minutes, then he has to stop so he can drive home and wash off the blood of the beasts he fought.

Five minutes before I'm to close up for lunch, Ryan returns to the shop. He's now dressed in his more usual outfit of jeans and a tight-fitting t-shirt, this one orange. His hair's been fixed and styled lightly, and his usual light smile is back. A pair of white paper bags are in his hands, and they seem to have stuff in them.

Empty jars to be returned? He's never done that before, but that's probably because he was always giving away the jars. The ones he purchased on Monday were intended for his own use, so it would make sense for him to return them for the slight discount that gives.

"Hello again," I say. "Come to make a purchase?"

"Not right now," he holds up the bags. "You're about to close for lunch, right? I brought you something, and thought maybe we could talk while we ate? If you don't mind, that is."

He probably wants to at least discuss how our initial stages will be. The local custom is to go on dates but not be committed – we can see and hook up with others – until we're certain we want to be in a full, committed relationship. Some people have tweaks to that they prefer, so Ryan probably wishes to discuss his and mine and see how things will go.

"Sure," I answer. "We can eat up on the deck once I close up."

"Okay," he says. "I'll see you up there, then."

Ryan leaves, and I wait until it's time to close up, then do that, check the security enchantments, and head up to the deck.

In addition to the planter boxes I have up here, there's also a round table with four chairs around it. Ryan's taken a seat in the one closest to the house, so I sit across from him and take the bag he offers me.

"What do you normally do for lunch?" He asks.

"Either fix myself something or eat at the cafe there," I indicate the cafe across the street. "Since I get paid both a fixed wage and commission, I at least earn enough to live off from the hourly rate, then get some extra from commission per item. That lets me buy the tomes and eat out."

Ryan looks over at the cafe, which is mostly a soups, salads, and subs cafe.

"They have good food," he says. "They opened about three years ago, right?"

"Probably to spy on me," I open the bag he gave me. "It's run by the bureau."

"To spy on you?" He asks. "They don't really care about you being the Dungeon Baby."

"It seems every Rank 5 I know is aware of that," I say. "Are you all spoken to about it?"

"I was a bit nervous around you when I first found out," he admits. "And asked about it out of fear. They told me they knew you were human. Didn't know others asked as well. The cafe's purpose is different."

"You knew?" I ask. "About them being from the government?"

"No," he answers. "But since I do now, I can tell you what's going on. You're someone who draws in those of high Ranks. Some of your customers are unregistered freelancers. Ones who stay for a long time are of a higher Rank. They probably set up the cafe after realizing this to track unregistered freelancers. Not as some sort of foul plot, but in case there's a situation where they need someone at Rank 4 or 5 and run out of people to contact."

"So they'll contact unregistered people," I say. "Who they suspect are at that Rank and of a certain Level?"

"Right," he nods as he starts pulling food out of his bag, and I do the same from mine. "It doesn't happen often, but they do like to know this sort of thing. There are a few shops throughout the city that have similar draws. For some reason, we're just… drawn to certain places. There's a street with clubs and bars that has the draw, and most of the bouncers are from the bureau."

The food he brought is a 6" sub for each of us, a bag of chips, a bottle of something to drink, an apple, and a brownie. Ryan's differs from mine in that he has a lemon-lime soda for his drink while mine is lemonade, but it's otherwise the same. The paper wraps around the subs and brownies indicate that they're from a sub shop not far from here.

They do good food, and I sometimes walk down there to buy myself lunch or dinner.

"I think I know the street," I tell Ryan. "It's where I met Nick."

"The one in the hunters' schools district?" He asks, and I nod."Yeah, that's them. So about how things are between us… do you have any tweaks to the norm?"

"Not really," I tell him. "I've dated a few times, but only went serious once and that only lasted a few months, mostly because he was moving to another city. As long as there's intent to see if we want to take further steps later, I don't care much."

"I do have a small requirement," Ryan says as I open up my sub.

It's a turkey-and-roast beef sub with lettuce, onion, pickle, and provolone cheese. This is one of the subs I commonly get at that cafe, so either he asked them about my usual order or he remembers from a past time where I mentioned it.

Since the odds are greater of it being the latter, just how many small details does he remember from our conversations over the years?

"What's that?" I ask.

"I don't care if you hook up with or date another person," he says. "As long as there's still an intent to see if we should go further than dating and become official, but I do prefer to know when someone I'm dating goes on another date or hooks up with another person. And I do the same. It's annoyed a few people, but I feel more comfortable knowing this sort of thing."

None of the guys I've dated before have had that condition, but I don't see it as unreasonable. We aren't committed right now as it's the early stages, but we do want to see if we'll work out and be able to go long-term in a romantic relationship. If a partner isn't able to be honest about who else they're seeing or meeting up with during the non-committed phase, then it might be difficult to trust that they'll stay faithful during the committed phase.

"Alright," I say. "I can agree to doing that."

"Okay," he says. "So you make commission and get paid for working? Aren't you the owner?"

"Yes," I answer. "I receive an hourly wage like a normal worker, plus five percent commission for my crafted goods. That's standard for the industry and keeps things regulated regardless of how well the shop does."

"You can't just set yourself a salary and stick to that?" Ryan asks. "Isn't that the norm?"

"For an owner who doesn't craft, yes," I answer. "But to maintain my business license, I'm required to pay at least five percent commission to the magic craftsmen whose goods I'm selling. This is only for the crafted goods sold here, not purchased elsewhere and then sold here. The place I purchased them from has to pay the commission."

"So if you buy a magic-smithed ring for $20," he says. "Then enchant it and sell it here for $100, the smith receives $1 and you receive $5? Am I understanding that right?"

"You are," I say. "Assuming that the smith receives a five percent commission and not higher."

"So then my usual order," he thinks for a few moments. "Earns you a little more than $200?"

"It does," I confirm. "Since I put most of what I earn from selling loot when I scavenge back into the shop, that helps me afford extras, such as the ancient tomes I like to read. It also helps cover my bills, though I do perform cost-of-living adjustments and a regular, set raise every six months so it's not often needed."

"How much do the ancient tomes cost?" He asks.

"They range from $500 to $15,000 depending on what it is and what's required to make the copy," I answer. "It's not often I can afford the more high-end ones."

"Okay," he says. "Why does the government require shops to pay commission to their craftsmen instead of set wages?"

"To avoid extreme exploitation," I answer. "A couple hundred years ago when society was starting to shift more towards what it is now, shops would pay a set, low wage to their craftsmen while working them to the bone. The shops would earn a ridiculous amount compared to what their craftsmen were earning. It was the cause behind the Alchemists' War."

The Alchemist's War was a brutal, bloody war that lasted almost six years and stretched across the globe. It started with just alchemists, but other craftsmen joined in to protest their horrid conditions and terrible pay. It started here in North America, but spread across the globe as the craftsmen in other nations learned about it.

There are ways to hide things from the System's informational windows, and that led to a lot of hunters dying. A lot of shop owners, too.

An uneasy peace was reached at different times, and this nation's solution was the mandatory minimum commission. Even guilds are required to abide by it.

"I never got to that part in school," Ryan admits.

"I didn't, either," I shrug. "It's history related to my career field. I learned about it while looking up how to determine my wage."

"Ah," he says, then there's silence for a minute as we both continue eating. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"Is there a story behind the picture of you at a lake?"

"I wanted to go swimming in an actual lake last summer rather than just a pool in town," he answers. "Since everything outside of society is filled with monsters, that meant killing all of the monsters in and around the lake."

That's a much shorter explanation than I was expecting it to have.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Okay," I hold up my half-eaten sub. "How did you decide on what sub to get me?"

"I wasn't entirely sure," he says. "But you'd mentioned getting that one during a conversation we had a couple of years ago. I know you might not like it anymore, but-"

"No, I do," I tell him. "My tastes don't change much. It's good, thanks."

It seems he really did buy based off a small detail in a conversation from a couple of years ago. That's impressive, considering I've met plenty of people who would struggle to remember such a detail from a month ago.

"You're welcome," he says.

We continue making small talk until we're done eating, then continue until it's time for me to head back downstairs to get ready to reopen the shop for the afternoon.

"I'll handle the trash," Ryan grabs my bag as we get up.

"Alright," I say. "Thanks for lunch, Ryan."

"You're welcome," he shifts a moment, then sets the bags back onto the table. "Is it too early to kiss?"

"No," I tilt my head up as I step closer.

Ryan meets me halfway, our lips meeting as well. He slides his hands around my waist as he kisses, pulling me into a hug that I return. His lips taste a little like his soda, and that makes me hope the onion from my sub isn't too strong. This probably wasn't well thought out.

"Thanks again," I tell him once we separate. "For lunch, I mean."

"Glad you enjoyed it," he says. "I'll see you, Evan."

"See you, Ryan."