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The first time Ayan met Akk, he wasn’t prepared.
He’d slipped into the crowded lecture hall, eyes scanning for his friend Thua. The room was buzzing with noise—Alphas laughing too loudly, Betas trading notes, Omegas clustered in small knots. Ayan rolled his shoulders back, carrying himself with that same easy confidence that always made people assume he was an Alpha. His instincts were sharp, aggressive, untamed in a way most Omegas couldn’t afford to be. And it worked. No one questioned it.
Until his gaze landed on Akk.
The boy was laughing at something his friend Kan had said, eyes crinkling, a grin spreading across his face like sunlight. And those eyes—wide, dark, too soft for the sharp world they lived in—caught Ayan and pinned him where he stood.
Ayan’s chest squeezed. He dragged in a breath, annoyed with himself. What the hell was that?
“Looking for me?” Thua’s voice pulled him back, and Ayan blinked, turning toward his friend.
“There you are,” he muttered, sliding into the seat beside him. He tried to look casual, but his gaze flicked back—again—to Akk.
Thua followed it, then smirked knowingly. “Oh. Akk.”
Ayan tried not to react, but the twitch of his jaw betrayed him. “Who?”
“The one you’re staring at.” Thua leaned in, his tone obnoxiously sing-song. “Alpha. Never dated. Kan’s best friend. Too shy for his own good.”
Alpha.
The word buzzed in Ayan’s head. His instincts stirred, restless. That smile, those boba eyes—he wanted to sink into them, wanted to test the Alpha who could make his body react like this.
For the rest of the lecture, he barely heard a word.
____________________________________________________
Ayan couldn’t forget him.
It was ridiculous. He’d met countless Alphas, sparred with them, flirted just to see them stumble. None of them stuck in his mind. None of them made his Omega instincts stir like this—sharp, restless, clawing under his skin.
But Akk did.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that damned smile. Those soft eyes. That quiet steadiness that called to him in a way that was terrifying and intoxicating all at once.
So he decided, very simply: he had to know him.
By the next week, Ayan couldn’t stop himself.
He slid into the seat two rows behind Akk, ignoring Thua’s raised brows. His eyes stayed fixed on the back of Akk’s neck, on the way his shoulders curved slightly as he took notes.
When class ended, Ayan made his move. He caught up with Akk outside, pretending to fumble his notebook.
“Hey, you’re Akk, right?”
Akk turned, startled. Up close, his eyes were even bigger, even warmer. “Uh—yeah. And you’re… Ayan?”
Ayan flashed a grin. “So you do know me.”
Akk blinked. “You sit with Thua.”
“Observant,” Ayan teased. He leaned just a little too close, testing the waters. “I like that.”
Akk frowned slightly, confused. “Thanks?”
Ayan almost laughed. Oh, this is going to be fun.
______________________________________________
The flirting started small.
In the library, Ayan leaned over Akk’s shoulder, pointing at the wrong passage just so his arm brushed Akk’s.
During group discussions, he sat closer than necessary, his knee bumping Akk’s under the table.
When Akk dropped his pen, Ayan picked it up and twirled it between his fingers before handing it back with a smirk. “Careful. If you keep losing things, you’ll need me around all the time.”
Akk flushed, muttered a quiet thanks, and went back to his notes.
He didn’t notice. Or worse—he thought Ayan was like this with everyone.
It drove Ayan insane.
__________________________________________
One afternoon, frustrated beyond belief, Ayan cornered Thua outside class.
“He doesn’t get it,” Ayan hissed, pacing. “I’ve been flirting for weeks. He just smiles and nods like I asked him to pass the salt.”
Thua tried not to laugh. “Akk’s… Akk. He’s not used to this. You need help.”
“Exactly,” Ayan said, eyes narrowing. “And you’re going to give it.”
Which was how Ayan found himself at a café two days later, seated across from Akk—while Kan and Thua sat conveniently “elsewhere.”
Kan had dragged Akk along, insisting they needed a study break. And the moment Akk sat down, Ayan appeared with two drinks.
“Thought you might like this,” Ayan said smoothly, sliding one across the table.
Akk blinked. “You… bought me coffee?”
“Why not? You deserve it.” Ayan smirked. “Or do you only take drinks from Kan?”
Akk sputtered, eyes darting to Kan—who, predictably, was pretending to scroll through his phone with an overly innocent expression.
Ayan leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Relax, Akk. I’m not trying to poison you. Unless you don’t like sweet things?”
“I—uh—I do,” Akk admitted, cheeks pink.
Ayan’s grin widened. “Good. Then you’ll like me.”
Akk choked on his sip, and Ayan’s instincts purred in satisfaction.
Finally, he thought. A crack.
_________________________________________
The “coincidences” started piling up.
Akk wasn’t stupid—he knew something was going on. Every time Kan invited him out, somehow Ayan was already there.
Movie night? Ayan had an extra ticket.
Study session? Ayan just happened to need the same book.
Late-night snack run? Ayan was leaning against the vending machine with a smirk like he owned the place.
At first, Akk brushed it off. Then, after the third time, he frowned at Kan.
“Why is Ayan always here?”
Kan grinned too widely. “Fate?”
Akk didn’t buy it, but before he could argue, Ayan appeared at his side, slipping an arm casually across the back of his chair like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Don’t look so suspicious,” Ayan drawled. “Maybe I just like hanging out with you.”
Akk stiffened. His throat went dry, but his brain—bless its awkward circuits—scrambled for the logical explanation. “You… like hanging out with everyone.”
Ayan’s smile sharpened. “Do I?”
Akk hesitated, suddenly very aware of the heat creeping up his neck.
___________________________________________________
The teasing escalated over the next week.
“Your hair looks nice today,” Ayan commented as they walked to class.
Akk pushed a hand through it self-consciously. “It looks the same as always.”
“Exactly,” Ayan said, grinning. “Always nice.”
When they studied together, Ayan leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “You concentrate too hard. It’s distracting.”
Akk blinked, confused. “Isn’t focusing… good?”
“Not when all I can think about is how close your eyelashes are.”
Akk nearly dropped his pen.
One evening at the café, Ayan reached across the table to steal a fry from Akk’s plate.
“Hey,” Akk protested weakly.
“Sharing is caring,” Ayan said, popping it into his mouth. He licked a bit of salt from his finger deliberately. “Unless you don’t want me touching your food. Or…” His eyes gleamed. “…you.”
Akk froze. His pulse stuttered, a flush creeping over his cheeks. He opened his mouth, shut it, then finally muttered, “You’re impossible.”
Ayan’s grin stretched wide. Progress.
__________________________________________
Later that night, Akk trudged back to his dorm with Kan.
“You’re quiet,” Kan said.
“I think Ayan’s… flirting with me,” Akk admitted slowly, like saying it out loud might jinx it.
Kan raised a brow. “And?”
Akk rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t… know what to do.”
Kan smirked, but his tone softened. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. Just… don’t push him away if you actually like it.”
Akk didn’t answer, but the way his stomach fluttered whenever Ayan leaned in was answer enough.
____________________________________________
The next “accidental” meetup was a group dinner. Thua and Kan sat across from them, clearly plotting something, but Ayan ignored them.
He slid his chair closer to Akk, shoulder brushing his. “You know, people keep mistaking me for an Alpha.”
Akk glanced at him. “Really?”
“Mm. Can’t imagine why.” Ayan tilted his head, watching Akk with a sly smile. “Maybe it’s because I don’t exactly act like a ‘traditional’ Omega.”
Akk swallowed, uneasy but intrigued. “You don’t.”
“Does that bother you?”
The question was sharper than his usual banter, carrying a weight Akk hadn’t expected.
“No,” Akk said quickly, firmly. His eyes softened. “It doesn’t bother me at all.”
Something flickered across Ayan’s face—surprise, then something warmer, deeper. His Omega instincts hummed, pleased.
For the first time, Ayan was the one caught off guard.
_______________________________________________
It didn’t stop him from leaning in, of course.
“Good,” he said, grin returning. “Because I don’t plan on changing.”
Akk stared at him, his lips twitching, like he wanted to smile but didn’t know how.
And then, to Ayan’s utter shock, Akk said quietly, “I’d noticed.”
Ayan blinked. “You… noticed?”
“That you’re different,” Akk said, looking down at his food. “That you’re… not like everyone else.”
Ayan’s pulse kicked, hard. His grin faltered, replaced by something real. For the first time since meeting Akk, he didn’t have a clever comeback.
Kan and Thua exchanged a glance across the table. Maybe—just maybe—the plan was working.
_______________________________________________
It started small. Subtle. Easy to miss if Ayan hadn’t been watching him so closely.
One afternoon in the library, Ayan leaned across the table with that familiar teasing smile. “You’re always so serious when you read. It’s cute.”
Akk didn’t blush this time. Instead, he raised his head and met Ayan’s eyes, his lips tugging upward just slightly. “Then maybe you should stop staring if it’s so distracting.”
Ayan froze. His grin faltered before it returned, sharper. “Did you just flirt with me?”
Akk tilted his head, expression unreadable. “Did I?”
For once, Ayan was the one left speechless.
It kept happening.
When they walked together, Akk let his hand brush Ayan’s more often than could be called accidental. He didn’t pull away.
At lunch, when Ayan stole a piece of chicken from his plate, Akk slid the plate closer instead of protesting. “Take what you want,” he said simply.
And one night after study group, when they were standing by the gates about to part, Akk surprised him with a quiet, “Text me when you get home. So I know you’re safe.”
Ayan’s Omega instincts nearly purred at the words. His chest felt tight, his throat dry.
This was new. Different. For the first time, Akk wasn’t just receiving his flirting. He was giving something back.
And it made Ayan restless.
_____________________________________________
So the next time they ended up together—this time, by design rather than coincidence—Ayan pushed for clarity.
It was supposed to be a short evening. Just reviewing notes for their project. But Ayan had chosen Akk’s apartment instead of the library, and once they settled in on the couch, books forgotten on the table, Ayan couldn’t stop himself.
“You know,” he said, leaning sideways, “you’ve been acting strange lately.”
Akk glanced at him, brow furrowed. “Strange?”
“Yeah. You keep saying things that sound a lot like flirting.” Ayan smirked, though his heart was racing. “And you let me steal your food without even fighting back. That’s dangerous, you know.”
Akk looked away, lips twitching. “Maybe I don’t mind.”
The words hit Ayan like a punch. His smirk wavered, instinct roaring in his chest. He searched Akk’s face, trying to read him.
“You don’t mind… me flirting with you?”
Akk turned back slowly, his eyes soft but steady. “I don’t mind you. At all.”
The air between them shifted—charged, fragile. For once, Ayan had no cheeky comeback. His throat felt tight, and all he could do was whisper, “Then what do you want me to do, Akk?”
Akk’s gaze dropped briefly to his lips before returning to his eyes. His voice was quiet, almost trembling, but certain. “Then maybe… you should tell me what you want me to do.”
Ayan swore under his breath. His instincts roared, his pulse a drum in his ears, and for the first time, he couldn’t find a single clever word.
And that was when Akk leaned forward.
The kiss was gentle, tentative—more question than answer. A brush of lips, soft and unsure.
Ayan’s breath caught. He hadn’t expected Akk to move first, hadn’t expected the Alpha’s quiet boldness to hit him so hard.
When Akk started to pull back, Ayan’s hand shot up to cup his jaw, holding him there. “Again,” he whispered, voice rough.
This time, Akk kissed him more firmly. Still sweet, still careful, but longer, warmer, carrying a promise that made Ayan’s chest ache.
By the time they broke apart, Ayan was grinning helplessly, breathless. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”
Akk’s ears were pink, but his eyes were steady. “I think so.”
Ayan laughed, soft and disbelieving, then leaned in to steal another quick kiss. “Good. Because now you can’t take it back.”
Akk smiled faintly—the kind of smile that would haunt Ayan’s dreams forever. “I don’t want to.”
And just like that, Ayan was undone.
_________________________________________________
The change was immediate.
The morning after that first kiss, Ayan was a different creature entirely. Not that anyone else would notice—he still wore the same easy grin, still carried himself with the same Alpha-like confidence—but Akk noticed. He felt it in the way Ayan’s fingers brushed his when they walked to class. Felt it again when, instead of pulling away, Ayan laced their hands together.
Akk had gone rigid, ready to retreat, but when he glanced at Ayan, the boy only smirked. “Relax, Akk. People will just think I’m dragging you to class.”
Except Ayan didn’t let go. Not through the lecture hall doors. Not even once they were seated.
Kan noticed.
Thua noticed.
And both of them nearly choked when Akk didn’t pull away.
At lunch, it only got worse.
“Feed me,” Ayan said, leaning against Akk’s shoulder with the laziest grin.
Akk blinked at him, horrified. “What?”
“You heard me.” Ayan opened his mouth slightly, tilting closer. “One bite. Come on. Show everyone you care.”
Akk’s ears turned red. “I’m not—”
But then Ayan stole the spoon right out of his hand, scooping rice and holding it up to Akk’s lips instead. “Fine, then you eat.”
Akk stared, frozen, heat crawling up his neck. Thua and Kan exchanged wide-eyed looks across the table.
And before he could stop himself, Akk leaned forward and took the bite.
The table went silent.
Ayan grinned, victorious, and nudged him playfully. “See? Not so hard.”
Akk wanted the floor to open up beneath him.
Kan slammed his chopsticks down. “Okay. What the hell is going on?”
Thua looked equally bewildered but less aggressive. “Yeah, um… since when are you two—” He waved vaguely between them. “—like this?”
Ayan leaned back in his seat, smug. “Since now.”
Kan’s eyes narrowed. “You. Stay out of this.” He jabbed a finger at Ayan before turning on Akk. “And you—you let him call you Aye?”
Akk flushed. “That’s… not the point—”
“It is exactly the point!” Kan snapped. “You’ve never let anyone call you anything. Not even me.”
Ayan, clearly enjoying himself, draped an arm across Akk’s shoulders. “Guess that makes me special.”
Kan looked one breath away from exploding. Thua reached out quickly, tugging on his arm. “Kan. Breathe. It’s okay.”
“Okay?!” Kan hissed. “He’s—he’s—”
“His,” Ayan supplied cheerfully, pressing closer to Akk. “And he kissed me first, by the way.”
Akk covered his face with one hand. “Ayan.”
“Wait. You kissed him?” Kan’s voice jumped an octave. “Akk, are you serious?”
To everyone’s surprise—including his own—Akk lowered his hand and met Kan’s eyes steadily. “Yes.”
The table fell into stunned silence.
For once, Ayan didn’t tease. He just smiled, softer than anyone had ever seen from him, and squeezed Akk’s hand under the table.
Kan sat back, dazed. Thua, after a long pause, broke into a grin. “Well. Took you long enough.”
________________________________________
That night, Akk tried to focus on his notes, but Ayan was stretched out beside him on the couch, chin propped on his hand, staring at him shamelessly.
“What?” Akk muttered, not looking up.
“You’re cute when you’re serious.”
Akk sighed. “You’ve said that before.”
“And I’ll say it again.” Ayan leaned closer, their shoulders brushing. “You’re also cute when you blush. And when you smile. And when you pretend you don’t like me holding your hand but never actually let go.”
Akk turned his head, caught off guard by the gentleness in Ayan’s voice. “You talk too much.”
“Then shut me up.”
Akk’s heart skipped. For once, he didn’t hesitate. He leaned forward and kissed him.
It was softer than before, slower. Ayan melted instantly, a small sound catching in his throat. His hand slid into Akk’s hair, holding him there like he never wanted it to end.
When they pulled back, Ayan’s eyes were wide, lips curved in a dazed grin. “You’re going to ruin me, Akk.”
Akk smiled faintly, brushing their noses together. “Good.”
________________________________________________
They never made it to their notes. Instead, they ended up tangled under the blanket, the TV murmuring forgotten in the background. Ayan curled against Akk’s chest, fingers drawing lazy patterns on his shirt.
“You’re warm,” he mumbled, eyelids heavy.
Akk pulled the blanket tighter around them, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Get some sleep, Aye.”
The nickname slipped out again, soft, certain. This time Ayan didn’t tease. He just smiled, eyes closed, and let out a content hum.
Minutes later, their breathing synced, the world outside forgotten.
In the quiet of Akk’s apartment, wrapped up in each other, they drifted into sleep—two boys who had finally stopped pretending, finding home in the warmth of each other’s arms.