Aiden hated dressing up.

His shirt collar was stiff, his shoes squeaked when he walked, and the gel in his hair was making his scalp itch. He sat on a garden bench at the edge of the party, arms folded like a grumpy prince, watching adults sip wine and pretend they liked each other.

Tonight was one of those high-class events where everyone smelled like money and wore smiles that didn’t reach their eyes.

He sighed, poking at the flower petals on the ground with his polished shoe. His parents called this event a “merger celebration” — whatever that meant. All Aiden knew was that he was hungry, annoyed, and already missing his video games.

“You look like you want to run away.”

Aiden jumped. A boy stood a few feet away, tall for his age, dressed in all black. He had pitch-dark hair, pale skin, and sharp features that didn’t belong on a kid. His voice was calm, almost cold. But his eyes… they were too deep, too focused.

“I’m Kairo,” he said simply. “You must be Aiden.”

Aiden raised an eyebrow. “Okay… creepy much? How do you know that?”

“Our families are business partners. I heard them talking about the Beaumont heir.”

Aiden huffed. “Great. So I’m famous in the boring adult world.”

Kairo walked over and sat beside him. He didn’t fidget. He didn’t blink. He just sat, perfectly still. The air around him felt heavy… intense. Aiden had the weirdest feeling like the bench dipped toward Kairo slightly.

And then it hit him.

Scent.

Subtle. Barely there. But enough to make his neck tingle.

“You’re… not an Omega,” Aiden said slowly. “But you don’t feel like a Beta either.”

Kairo looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “Neither do you.”

Aiden opened his mouth — then closed it. For once, he had no comeback.

The two wandered away from the party after that, ignoring the fancy food and fake laughs. They ended up behind a hedge maze, sitting in the grass and trading dumb jokes.

Aiden made a flower crown and slammed it onto Kairo’s head.

“Wear it with pride, your cold royal highness.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re still wearing it.”

Kairo didn’t take it off.

They lay on their backs, looking up at the stars. Aiden couldn’t explain it, but something about Kairo’s presence made him… calm. Like even silence felt okay.

“You’re not like the others,” Kairo said suddenly.

“Which others?”

“Everyone.”

There was a pause. Then—

“Promise me something.”

“Huh?”

Kairo sat up, holding out his pinky. “If I return before you turn eighteen… marry me.”

Aiden blinked like he’d just been smacked by a bird.

“That’s a weird thing to promise.”

“I mean it.”

“We’re kids.”

“So what?”

Aiden stared at him. Kairo wasn’t joking. Not even a little.

“Okay,” Aiden said, linking their pinkies. “But only if you wear the flower crown at the wedding.”

Their fingers curled together. For a second, everything around them felt quiet.

Aiden didn’t know why… but something in his chest fluttered.

Later that night…

A black car waited in the driveway. The Vance family was relocating overseas — something about expansion, growth, legacy. Aiden didn’t care. All he cared about was the boy standing at the edge of the driveway with the same flower crown still sitting on his head.

“You’re really leaving?” Aiden asked, not trusting his voice.

“I’ll come back.”

“Will you remember me?”

Kairo walked up and hugged him. Not like a kid hug — it was different. Arms wrapped around his waist, cheek resting against Aiden’s shoulder. Like he was memorizing the shape of him.

“I could never forget your scent,” Kairo whispered. “You’re the only one I can smell clearly.”

Aiden froze.

No one had ever said that to him before. He didn’t even know what it meant — just that his heart was suddenly way too loud.

Then Kairo stepped back, turned, and got into the car.

The door closed.

He was gone.

Aiden stood alone, hugging the flower crown to his chest like it was the last soft thing left in the world.

In a world divided by roles, scent, and instinct…

Two boys made a promise before they even understood what love meant.

But fate never forgets.

And neither does the heart.

The Beaumont estate dining hall shimmered under the chandelier, and everything smelled too expensive.

Aiden sat stiffly at the polished dining table, surrounded by his perfectly put-together parents and half a dozen board members he barely knew. He didn’t care about the talk of mergers and joint ventures. He just wanted to eat and leave.

But then he walked in.

Kairo Vance.

The boy from the garden.

Except now he wasn’t just a boy.

He was tall, built, confident. His black suit fit like it was stitched to his skin. His hair was still dark and sleek, but his face had sharpened — angular jaw, straight nose, and those same stormy, unreadable eyes.

He walked in flanked by three men in black, all expressionless. Bodyguards?

The room shifted the second he entered. Even the adults straightened.

And he walked straight to Aiden.

Sat right beside him.

No greetings. No warning. Just sat like it was his seat.

“You’re in my space,” Aiden muttered, trying not to be obvious about scooting half an inch away.

“You smell the same,” Kairo said softly.

Aiden choked on air. “I—Excuse me?!”

Kairo didn’t flinch. “Like rosemary and citrus.”

Aiden blinked. “You’re weird.”

Kairo’s lips curved — just slightly. “You like it.”

Before Aiden could throw his napkin in Kairo’s face, Mr. Beaumont stood up with a wine glass and a dazzling smile.

“Everyone, thank you for joining us tonight! It’s not just a business celebration — it’s a family reunion. And… an engagement announcement.”

Aiden frowned. “An engage—wait, who’s getting married?”

Mrs. Beaumont smiled at her son like he was a particularly dense puppy. “You are, darling.”

Silence fell.

Aiden stared.

Mr. Vance chuckled. “To my son, Kairo. As agreed upon seventeen years ago.”

Aiden blinked.

Then turned. Slowly.

Stared directly at Kairo. “I’m sorry. You’re WHAT to me?”

Kairo looked directly at him. “Your fiancé.”

Aiden’s chair scraped loudly against the marble floor as he stood. “No. Nope. Not happening. I was a literal baby. You cannot seriously think I’m—”

“You made a promise,” Kairo said calmly, not even looking up from his drink.

“That doesn’t count! I was NINE! I also promised to marry a banana that year!”

“You made it to me under the cherry blossom tree,” Kairo said quietly. “You said if I came back before you turned eighteen, we’d get married. I have the contract.”

He pulled out a neatly folded envelope from his jacket pocket and set it on the table.

“Signed by both families. Stamped. Witnessed. Legal.”

Aiden’s mouth dropped open.

“What the ACTUAL—?!”

Mrs. Beaumont placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, smiling through her teeth. “Sweetheart. This is an opportunity.”

“An opportunity to marry a robot with a scent kink?!”

Kairo turned to him slowly. “You’re louder than I remember.”

“You’re CREEPIER than I remember!”

Mr. Vance chuckled. “Boys will be boys.”

“No!” Aiden shouted. “No ‘boys will be boys!’ This isn’t a playground crush! This is—I have rights!”

Kairo sipped his water. “I have the contract.”

Aiden snatched it up, skimmed it in disbelief. It really was real. Their parents had signed it years ago — part of a future merger agreement. If the two children chose to agree when they came of age… they’d be bound in both marriage and business.

And it was signed by Aiden’s parents.

And Kairo’s.

And he hadn’t been told until now?!

“You’re joking,” Aiden whispered, stunned. “You all set me up.”

“We didn’t think you’d mind,” Mrs. Beaumont said sweetly. “You and Kairo were inseparable.”

“That was before he vanished off the face of the planet!”

“I was in training,” Kairo said, standing smoothly. “Overseas. Military, combat, finance. Preparing to take over the Vance legacy.”

Aiden stared. “Oh, so while I was struggling with algebra and saxophone lessons, you were becoming Batman?”

Kairo gave him a small, unreadable smile. “I’m back now.”

“I don’t want you back!”

“You’ll come around.”

“NO I WON’T!”

“You already are.”

“WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!”

Kairo stepped closer.

Too close.

Aiden froze as Kairo leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “Your pupils dilate when you’re angry.”

Aiden gasped. “Don’t analyze me like a science project!”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Aiden was one second away from flipping the entire dining table.

Instead, he spun around and stormed out of the room, the contract still clenched in his hand.

Outside, the night air was cool. The garden was quiet, moonlight glowing off the fountains. Aiden stomped toward the hedge maze, heart racing, still trying to understand what had just happened.

He made it halfway down the path before he felt it.

That presence.

Kairo.

He turned around just in time to see the other boy following at a calm, measured pace.

“What do you want now?” Aiden snapped, cheeks still pink.

“You stormed out with my contract.”

Aiden scowled. “I’ll burn it.”

Kairo stepped closer. “You won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re curious.”

Aiden’s lip curled. “About what?”

“What we could be.”

The air shifted.

Aiden could feel it again — that subtle pulse in the back of his neck. Like his instincts recognized something before he did. Like his body was responding to Kairo’s nearness in a way that had nothing to do with logic.

He hated it.

Loved it.

Wanted to punch it.

“You think you know me,” Aiden said bitterly.

Kairo didn’t flinch. “I do.”

“You think I’ll just fall into your arms?”

“No,” Kairo said softly. “I think I’ll make you fall.”

Aiden’s breath caught.

Kairo stepped even closer, their faces just inches apart.

Aiden’s fingers trembled at his sides.

“You’re insane,” he whispered.

Kairo’s voice was barely a breath. “Only for you.”

A promise made in childhood had returned as a contract.

But the real question wasn’t if Aiden would give in.

It was how long he could resist the pull of something he never truly forgot.

Aiden’s room was no longer his.

Correction: It was still his — but now, it was also Kairo’s.

He stood in the doorway, arms folded, glaring at the two enormous suitcases that sat on the foot of the bed like smug invaders. Kairo, in his black button-up and silent swagger, calmly unpacked like this was a five-star hotel.

“You’re seriously living here?” Aiden asked, voice cracking at the end.

Kairo didn’t look up. “The contract states we must be in close quarters to build compatibility.”

“Are we Pokémon breeding?”

Kairo paused, then raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to be on top or on the bottom bunk?”

Aiden grabbed the nearest pillow and screamed into it.

⸻

Earlier that morning, the bombshell had been dropped casually over breakfast.

“You’ll be sharing a residence for the semester,” Mrs. Beaumont said as she buttered her toast. “So you can get used to each other before the ceremony.”

“The WHAT?!” Aiden had screamed, orange juice flying from his cup.

Kairo, calmly sipping black coffee, just said, “I’ll move my things in today.”

The staff nodded. The spare room had already been converted. Aiden’s home was being taken over — slowly, legally, quietly — by the Ice Prince with the eight-pack and the annoyingly perfect jawline.

⸻

Now, back in his room, Aiden flopped onto the bed dramatically, arms stretched like a dying starfish.

“This is my space. My sanctuary. I don’t want your cologne contaminating my pillows.”

Kairo didn’t even blink. “It’s not cologne.”

Aiden paused. “…Wait. That’s your natural scent?!”

Kairo nodded.

“Okay ew but also why does it smell like expensive danger and vanilla???”

Kairo didn’t answer.

He just walked over, leaned down — too close — and whispered, “I’ve always smelled like this. You just forgot.”

Aiden’s soul exited his body for a brief second.

⸻

Later that night, the house was quiet. The staff had retired. The parents were out at some charity gala.

Aiden sat at the grand piano in the music room, fingers gliding over the keys. The melody started slow — soft, almost sad — but built into something sharp and dramatic. The rhythm matched the storm in his head.

He didn’t hear Kairo walk in.

But he felt him.

“You’re good,” Kairo said softly.

Aiden kept playing. “Of course I am.”

Kairo leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching.

“You always played when you were upset,” Kairo said. “Even as a kid.”

Aiden didn’t look at him. “You don’t get to act like you know me.”

“I do.”

“You left.”

“I had to.”

“You could’ve called. Written. Sent a telepathic message. Anything.”

Kairo was silent.

Aiden’s fingers paused on the keys.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked quietly.

Kairo walked over slowly. “Because if I heard your voice… I might’ve broken the deal. And I couldn’t afford that.”

Aiden looked up at him, surprised by the rawness in his voice.

“I trained every day to be worthy of you,” Kairo said. “To stand beside you as an equal. Not just a childhood crush.”

Aiden’s heart did a weird little flip. He hated it.

“I never asked for that,” he muttered.

Kairo’s voice was softer now. “You didn’t have to.”

⸻

That night, in their shared room, Aiden lay wide awake on the left side of the bed, glaring at the ceiling. Kairo lay quietly on the right, eyes closed, breathing calm.

The bed was big — a ridiculous king-size monstrosity. But it didn’t feel big enough.

“Stop breathing so loud,” Aiden hissed into the dark.

“I’m asleep,” Kairo replied flatly.

“You just answered me.”

“You’re cute when you’re panicking.”

“I’m not— I AM NOT PANICKING!”

“You’re flustered.”

“You’re a menace.”

“You’re adorable.”

“I’m gonna scream.”

“You already did.”

“GHHHHH—!!”

Kairo reached over and, without warning, squeezed Aiden’s waist.

Aiden let out a muffled squeak, his eyes going wide in the dark.

“KAIRO!”

Kairo smirked. “There it is.”

“You touch me again and I will stab you with my clarinet!”

“Promise?”

Aiden shrieked into his pillow.

⸻

Narration Box:

Living together was a disaster waiting to happen.

Aiden swore he’d never give in.

But every teasing word, every knowing smirk, every lingering touch…

was starting to chip away at the walls around his heart.

And Kairo?

Kairo had waited years for this.

He wasn’t going to lose him again.