The world narrowed to the space between them, filled with the intoxicating symphony of their clashing scents—spiced amber and warm sandalwood, a potent cocktail of raw Alpha need and willing Omega surrender. The city lights below blurred into an insignificant tapestry of gold against the velvet night.

Jeon Minho’s confession hung in the air, a raw, undeniable truth.
"My Alpha... it's going insane for you."

Kim Siwoo could only stare, captivated by the storm in Minho’s eyes. The controlled CEO was gone, replaced by a man driven by a primal force. The air crackled, and every nerve in Siwoo’s body was alight, his Omega preening under the intense, focused attention.

"Do you feel it, Siwoo?" Minho’s voice was a low, vibrating rumble that seeped into Siwoo’s very bones. His hand came up, not to grab, but to hover beside Siwoo’s face, a silent question. "This... pull. It's consuming me."

Siwoo’s breath hitched. He gave the slightest nod, a surrender he'd never granted anyone before.
"Yes," he whispered, the word barely audible.

It was all the permission Minho needed.

His hand finally cupped Siwoo’s jaw, his thumb stroking over the soft skin of his cheek. The touch was electric, a jolt of pure sensation that made Siwoo’s eyes flutter closed for a second. Minho leaned in, his gaze dropping to Siwoo’s parted lips.

"I need to know if you taste the way you scent," Minho murmured, his voice thick with desire.

And then he closed the final, infinitesimal distance.

The kiss was not gentle.
It was a claiming.

It was fire and desperation, a collision of weeks of pent-up tension, unspoken longing, and undeniable fate. Minho’s lips were firm and demanding, moving against Siwoo’s with a hunger that stole the air from his lungs. Siwoo met him with equal fervor, his hands coming up to clutch at the front of Minho’s jacket, anchoring himself as the world spun.

It was everything.
It was the boardroom arguments and the shared glances, the trust of a child and the warmth of a held hand, all distilled into this one, searing connection.

Minho’s arm snaked around Siwoo’s waist, pulling him flush against his body, eliminating any last shred of space between them. Siwoo melted into the embrace, a soft, helpless sound escaping his throat as he yielded completely.

When they finally broke apart, gasping for air, they stayed forehead to forehead, their ragged breaths mingling in the cool night air. The city sounds rushed back in, but they were muted, distant.

Minho’s eyes were still dark, but the storm had calmed, replaced by a dazed, wondrous warmth. He brushed a stray lock of hair from Siwoo’s forehead, his touch now tender.

"Siwoo-yah," he breathed, his voice reverent.

Siwoo could only smile, a slow, blissful curve of his lips. His heart felt too big for his chest.
"Minho-yah."

No titles.
No formality.
Just their names, sanctified by a kiss that had rewritten their story.

Minho leaned in again, this time for a softer, slower kiss—a promise. A seal.

The collaboration was forgotten. The businesses were a distant concern. On that secluded hilltop, under the starlit sky, Jeon Minho and Kim Siwoo were no longer CEOs.

They were simply an Alpha and his Omega,
at the beginning of everything.

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