**Chapter 1: The Unrequited Yearning**

Draken still remembers his first rut, the unbridled heat that coursed through his veins like liquid fire. His body had betrayed him, surrendering to the primal urges that had left him breathless and bewildered. The memory of those torturous hours still lingered, a potent mix of sensations that had left an indelible mark on his psyche. His sheets had been drenched in his sweat and drool, the obscene noises that had escaped his lips a stark reminder of his loss of control. The knock on the door had been a gentle one, tinged with concern and a hint of omega-like subservience. "Sure you don't want any help, Kenny?" they had asked, their voice high-pitched and laced with a begging tone that had appealed to his alpha side. Draken's eyes had fluttered open, his gaze unfocused as he lay there, his chest heaving with exertion. He had tried to respond, but his voice had been hoarse, barely above a whisper. The girls outside his door had been willing to offer him comfort, to ease his alpha pain, but he had pushed them away, slamming the door shut on their offers. He had rutted against his sheets, the fabric a sorry substitute for the warm, yielding flesh he craved. The thought of Mikey had echoed through his mind, a mantra that had driven him to continue, to pound against the sheets until he had reached a shuddering climax. The sheets had been a sloppy mess, stained with his knot, but he had kept going, driven by a hunger that had threatened to consume him. "You're mine~" Mikey's voice had whispered in his mind, a gentle echo that had become a refrain. His, he was Mikey's, and Mikey was his. The alpha-omega dynamic had never mattered to him; all he had known was that he wanted Mikey, badly. Years had passed since that tumultuous night, and Draken's desire had never wavered. He had seen Mikey around, the badass fighter with a reputation for being untouchable. But there had been something about Mikey that had drawn him in, a spark of connection that had refused to be extinguished. It wasn't until they had sat down to dinner together that Draken had discovered the truth. Mikey, the fearsome fighter, was an omega. "What do you mean, Mikey's an omega?" Draken had asked, his voice laced with incredulity. Mikey had chuckled, a deep rumble that had left Draken's heart racing. "Huh? Alpha?" he had laughed, his eyes sparkling with mirth. The older brother had shot Mikey a disapproving look. "Manners, Mikey! Eat with your mouth closed." Draken had been stunned, unsure what to make of this revelation. It had taken a while for him to accept the truth, to realize that the mighty Mikey was, indeed, an omega. It wasn't until Mikey's first heat had arrived, and Draken had been there to witness it, that he had truly understood. The sweet, heady scent that had wafted from Mikey's body, the pink flush that had spread across his cheeks, and the glazed-over look in his eyes had all been tells, proof that Mikey was, indeed, an omega. Mikey's older brother had shooed Draken away that day, but the memory of that look had stayed with him, a potent reminder of Mikey's true nature. As they had started spending more time together, Draken had found himself drawn to Mikey's affectionate nature. Mikey didn't seem to notice when Draken's hands had wandered, touching him in ways that had left him breathless. "I'm yours, aren't I?" Draken had asked, more than once, and Mikey had always given him a smile, his eyes dominating Draken with just a look. "You're mine," Mikey had confirmed, each time, without hesitation. But Draken had always wanted to say, "You're mine too," to claim Mikey as his own. The fear of rejection had kept him silent, though. As they sat together now, Mikey's hands had roamed, hot and sweaty, rubbing against Draken's back. Draken had reciprocated, his hands stroking Mikey's dick, sending shivers down his spine. "Ah," Mikey had moaned, his head thrown back against Draken's neck. "More." Draken's teeth had nipped at Mikey's ear, then his neck, before he had claimed Mikey's lips in a kiss. Mikey had cum, the sensation shooting up Draken's shirt, but he hadn't minded. He loved smelling like Mikey, loved the way his scent lingered on his skin. "Sorry," Mikey's eyes had fluttered open, his gaze drifting down to the cum-soaked shirt. "I should have warned you." "Don't worry about it," Draken had replied, his voice low and husky. As Mikey had drifted off to sleep on Draken's chest, Draken's hand had remained still, his fingers curled around Mikey's cum. He had wanted to lick it off, to taste Mikey, but he hadn't. Mikey wouldn't have liked that. "Thanks, Kenchin," Mikey had murmured, his voice barely audible. Draken's heart had swelled, his love for Mikey a burning, all-consuming flame. He had sat there, frozen in time, as the world outside had melted away, leaving only the two of them, lost in their own little bubble of desire and longing. And in that moment, Draken had known that he would do anything to make Mikey happy, to be the one Mikey turned to when he needed comfort, when he needed to be claimed. As the silence between them had grown, Draken had realized that he had a choice to make. He could continue to hide his true feelings, to keep his love for Mikey locked away, or he could take a chance, and risk everything to make Mikey his. The thought had sent a thrill through him, a mix of excitement and trepidation that had left him breathless. What would he do next? Only time would tell.