Chapter 1: Hyderabad
Summary:
The whims of fate.
Chapter Text
Stalled in the middle of the day, in the middle of summer, in the middle of the city. Cherry takes the moment of heavy congestion to reach up and grab at the grown-out sections of his hair. He remembers his mother's compliments, straight and beautiful like wire and silk. Pulling on the hair grip around his wrist, Cherry fastens a quick bun at the back of his head, the shorter pieces falling out to rest on his nape.
India is hot today. Sweltering. Cherry’s shirt is damp, and the little fan on his dash ran out of battery hours ago. He thinks of cool water and remembers his bottle has been empty for three blocks. The afternoon sun beats down on his little rickshaw and threatens any hope of a reprieve.
Leaning on his horn is useless. It’s always this terrible, this time of day, in Hyderabad. Autos honk and lurch. Men yell out and smack their dash. The air is full of noise and smog. Cherry had warned his passenger it would take twice as long, but she wanted to see the city center in all its anger. She is thin and white and suffering from her naive expectations of a country often drenched in heat.
She fidgets in his backseat, torn between peeking out at everything around her and protecting her eyes and sinuses from the smoggy air. Cherry had to fight the other autos clamoring for her fare, a wealthy-looking white woman, young, a tourist on holiday or business. Neither really matters to him. She's dressed in thin, pale fabric. She has money.
The woman wrinkles her nose and sneezes as the heavy aroma of street food passes through the auto. The spicy smells make Cherry’s mouth water, but he keeps his lips pinched shut at her annoyed expression. Cherry hears the tinkling of bells on cart handlebars, the sudden shouts of backdoor salesmen, and the light laughter of a mother in the street. She holds her son’s small hand, juggling bags of spices and haggling down their price. The sounds are difficult for Cherry and remind him of the bittersweet comfort of home. His passenger doesn’t seem to agree.
Cherry points absently to random statues and buildings, not really knowing much about them but smiling confidently. He has to oversell it. If he can pad this payout, he might be able to go home early and sit naked in front of his fan. He even catches himself fantasizing about cool water in a plastic pink bucket and a large cup.
Eventually they reach the epicenter of humanity, the roiling sweat of packed bodies in little tin cans. All against the melody of angry auto drivers and blaring horns. He wonders if she regrets the Authentic Indian Experience. He also wonders if he even knows what that experience is.
"Almost over!" Cherry calls back in broken English.
He motions his hand in a circle, hoping his limitations with her language will embarrass her too much to ask for further context. She grips her small bag tightly and tries to fan her pink face. He knows how much foreigners love simple and quiet Indian men who only know enough English to pass cash and give directions. He knows that when he stumbles and stutters, she'll feel safe and give a fatter tip.
Various people wander and weave through stalled cars. A small child comes close to investigate Cherry’s auto, stretching his neck to see what's inside. Cherry eyes him in his periphery. The boy's eyes widen at Cherry's passenger, and he gives Cherry a curious glance. Testing the driver's leniency, the child reaches a hand out, moving towards the vehicle's opening. Cherry grabs a heavy stick near his seat and waves it around, banging the side of his auto.
"Chi, chi! Go! Go!" Cherry yells.
The child jumps and runs off giggling, soon absorbed by a larger group of small children, moving through stopped cars like frightened lambs in a field. Their only natural predators are the street-food vendors competing for tourists' attention.
"Oh, they were only children." The woman says with a wince.
"No give money!" Cherry says with a wave of his stick.
The woman sinks down further into her seat and swallows. Cherry turns his annoyed expression back to the road and stuffs the stick back in its slot. He exhales heavily. Even Thailand wasn’t this hot. At least there he had the luxury of cool hotels and the breeze of the ocean.
Cherry jolts the rickshaw forward, finds a space to squeeze through, and weaves himself expertly out of the throng. The path through isn't too bad as long as he ignores his fare's gasps and squeals. Crossing lanes must be new to her, but he moves too fast for her to protest. When he finally gets to her hotel, the woman all but leaps out. She pays Cherry with a healthy tip and thanks him in broken Hindi.
"T-Telugu." Cherry offers, exasperated.
"Oh no, sorry, I don't have a cell phone with service yet." She winces, mishearing the word as telephone.
Cherry sways his head with a tight smile and helps her with her bags. She's the hotel's problem now. A new passenger tries to flag him down, but he waves his hand and clicks his tongue before driving away. The dust kicks up, and the golden sun whips heat and earth through the auto.
The ride home is a relief. Finally, a speed to encourage a breeze. Cherry's rickshaw bounces and jerks over backroads and cracked asphalt. He has the map of the city mugged perfectly in his mind now. He weaves and squeezes through tiny streets and alleyways, making his way to his little flat on the south side. His rickshaw does well despite how rough he likes to handle it. It's still fairly new and came at a good price with his savings from Thailand. He pats the dash and thanks his luck for having enough to keep his head above water and pay his rent.
When Cherry is finally parked and inside his flat, he immediately strips down for a cool shower in the shared washroom. Taking his bucket and cup, he lets the icy water wash away the heat and grime of the day, eventually dumping his head straight in. He's pleased with his take-home and bought himself a little lemon rice and jalebi on the drive back.
Cherry sets himself up as planned, naked with his fan on his little sleeping mat in his room. He is still wet from his wash, so the fan on his damp skin is a relief. The hard tile feels cool against his bare feet, and he wiggles on the mat to get comfortable. He props up the little Android tablet an English businessman left in the back of his auto and puts on a Sridevi film. One of his favorites.
After finishing his rice, he snacks absently on his jalebi and enjoys the fluttering beauty of Sridevi in the moonlight.
Cherry is startled awake only a few hours later. He realizes he must have dozed off during the film, as his YouTube is auto-playing old movies he doesn't recognize. He also realizes Jeevi is there, gesturing wildly.
"Cha! You can't even afford clothes now!" Jeevi laughs and throws a lungi at his friend's groggy expression.
Cherry is starting to regret giving Jeevi the spare key to his flat. He covers up as much as he has to and looks up with a yawn. Jeevi clicks his tongue and flings open Cherry's dresser.
Jeevi is dressed quite nicely, in sharp trousers and a leather jacket over silk. It’s a ridiculous choice given the weather, but Jeevi loves ridiculous choices. His hair is styled heavy with product but waves pleasantly to his nape. Cherry always found Jeevi fairly attractive, but luckily his friend’s personality saved Cherry from seriously considering anything romantic.
"Get dressed, let's go to Komma." Jeevi waggles his hips and smiles.
It takes Cherry a few moments to register Jeevi's words, as shirts and trousers are thrown around the room.
"Kothagunda?!"
The drive up is nice, a ride on the back of Jeevi's motorbike against a cool breeze under moonlight. Jeevi is better off than Cherry, his family being Kshatriya. Except Jeevi doesn't act entitled or disgusted. Cherry once wondered if they became friends so Jeevi could have an exciting rowdy to hang out with. Maybe he wanted something to brag about to his other rich friends. But Jeevi doesn't treat him differently and doesn't seem to like those rich friends too much.
They’ve spent nearly every weekend together for almost a year now, running to canteens and clubs and seeing heroes in the cinema. It’s nice to just have a friend, especially one who doesn’t expect anything from him except his company. He does wonder if Jeevi would care if he knew more about Cherry, the things Cherry keeps to himself. The things most people don’t want to know about him. Regardless, Jeevi pays for almost everything and never asks for anything back. Cherry likes Jeevi, and Cherry makes Jeevi laugh. He supposes that's all a friendship really needs.
Komma is hot, and the drinks are expensive. The remixed pop songs are awful, and the strobe lights are too low to see anything. Still, it's something to do, and the mass of bodies distracts them both for a few hours. Cherry always feels small around so many people, but it’s not always a bad thing. He can disappear and blend in and not worry about being seen. It almost feels safe.
He entertains himself with a pink cocktail and the disjointed babbling of Jeevi. Something about a new job with lots of money. Jeevi's always finding new jobs and new schemes. Cherry doesn't really understand it. Jeevi never needs money, and he's already promised a big, important job. But Cherry supposes rich people get bored of life being so easy for them.
They eventually link up with some other friends, some fellow auto drivers, and some of the aforementioned rich friends. They cycle through drinks, roughhousing, and prattling about girls. Cherry just enjoys the noise and lets himself sink into it. The music pounds, and the drinks settle warm in his belly.
It isn't until late in the evening that Cherry realizes he's being watched. He catches eyes on him from across the club, a man around his age, thin and tall with wavy hair. The man grins, and his light eyes shine. He's clean-shaven, save for a thin mustache. Cherry realizes he's handsome, very handsome.
Cherry blushes and turns. He isn't exactly used to such a sudden attraction, but when he looks again, he squints playfully. The man's grin turns into a bright smile full of teeth. It's beautiful and easy, and it makes Cherry's ears burn.
Cherry isn't unfamiliar with his attraction to men. He is more confused that anyone could have a preference for men or women. They both look the same to him, round hips or strong shoulders, soft lips or big hands. He's never understood the distinction, but he's smart enough to protect himself. He doesn't run around advertising his open mind, nor does he eagerly invite anyone in. He knows this country isn't always safe and doesn’t always understand.
Memories of the juvenile home filter through Cherry’s mind. Young boys finding dark corners for comfort and touch, older boys who used sex to hurt smaller ones. Cherry fought his way through some boys like that. He thinks people see him as small and weak, and if they knew, they would assume it was more of a problem for him than it was. It wasn't. The home was full of hurt children. Angry children. But they were all still children. Most of them were just emulating baddies they saw in the movies. Wanting to keep themselves from being hurt again. Cherry protected himself then, and he can protect himself now.
Cherry tries to ignore the piercing gaze from the strange man and redirects his attention to his friends. They've made their way to a booth, and he follows them from the bar. Cherry sways his head as they make jokes or bring up cricket. He doesn't have too much to say, but he's fine with that. Friends never came too easily to him, and he enjoys the casual companionship.
Suddenly Jeevi's voice rises over Cherry's thoughts.
“—Well, why not? I've always been pretty strong. I'm sure I'd be good at it!" Jeevi argues, and his friends laugh.
"Work for someone like him? I've heard the stories. His men do really rowdy things, Jeevi." A friend offers gently, but Jeevi only scoffs.
"It doesn't sound too bad. Besides, I can't work for my father. I have to find something else." Jeevi says softly and unsure. One of the men lowers his voice to a whisper.
"But Jeevi, you've heard what they call him." The men eye each other nervously at their friends' warning.
Not wanting to listen to the same silly story, Cherry breaks away to get another drink. As he stops at the bar, the handsome man from before suddenly appears next to him. Cherry ducks his head and grins, shy and careful. The man places his hand on the bar gently and shows his teeth. Cherry admires the thin gold rings on his shapely fingers and his neat nails. He also notices his fair skin, and Cherry experiences a moment of embarrassment at his own darker complexion.
"Hello." The man's voice is soft and light. Cherry smiles, then thins his mouth, remembering his slanted teeth. The man raises his eyebrow and asks for his name.
"Charan, but friends call me Cherry." Cherry tries to be subtle and places his hand next to the man's on the bar.
"Like the fruit?" The man grins and moves his hand closer. Cherry rolls his eyes playfully and sways his head. The bartender brings Cherry his new drink and leaves with a tight nod.
"Are they your friends?" The handsome man points his chin toward Jeevi and the other men. Cherry turns to the crowd, scrunches his nose, but makes an affirming sound. When he turns back, the man's hand is closer. Cherry smiles.
"Don't you have a name?" Cherry offers.
"Nani." He answers. Cherry barks out a laugh.
"Like the hero?!" Cherry asks, and Nani blushes with a shrug.
"What's your family name then, Bunny?" Cherry teases. The man laughs this time and clicks his tongue.
"I never liked his films. Too silly." Nani drops his voice and presses closer.
"Have you heard the rumors about him? That he likes men too?" Nani asks with a smirk.
Cherry blushes and basks in the sudden scent of Nani's cologne, rich and deep. They look at each other for a beat, and something passes between them, unspoken. Nani's eyes are light but reflect nothing, and Cherry feels a sudden pang at the back of his neck. He tries to ignore it.
Nani tilts his head back and starts to walk in the direction he motions to. Cherry finishes his drink in one swallow and takes a breath. As he watches Nani walk away, he hesitates at the invitation. He knows men like him do this. Move to back rooms and into dark shadows, and don't speak. But he's never done it himself. He's had casual experiences with women, but this feels different. It makes him uncomfortable.
Still, Nani seems kind and handsome, so he's torn. Cherry hasn't touched a man in so long, or a woman for that matter. The promise of comfort is tempting, of touch. Cherry looks back to his friends, chatting away, oblivious to Cherry's dilemma, and then looks down at his empty glass, hoping it will have answers. When Nani turns a corner, he looks at Cherry once more, hot and open. Cherry squares his shoulders and decides to indulge. He puts down money for his tab and pushes towards the back of the club.
Nani has them pressed into a wall, the corner tucked behind a backroom entrance. His mouth is on Cherry's neck, and his hands seem to move everywhere else. Nani's tongue is hot, and his lips are so soft. Cherry feels covered by a larger body, and the touch is intoxicating. At the same time, Cherry can't help but feel exposed. Nani's attention feels good, but the space is so open and cold, he worries if it's safe. Cherry tries to put some space between them, but Nani is so eager.
"I-I have a flat." Cherry whispers, "I live alone. We could—“ Nani pulls back and interrupts him.
"You are so beautiful. Wow, look at you." Nani breathes and looks Cherry up and down.
Cherry is flattered but feels like he's being measured for a meal. He's grateful to finally have some distance so he can think. Cherry's having doubts, and he's not sure how to vocalize them.
"It's fine here, don't worry. I come back here all the time." Nani reassures him.
His smile is less than comforting. It looks wrong. Nani eagerly returns to Cherry's neck and presses himself harder against Cherry and the wall. It feels worse now, and things start to escalate. Cherry recognizes something rigid and warm against his hip. He isn't sure why, but the threat of Nani's cock scares him. Cherry makes an unsure noise, and the sick feeling sinks lower. The vibrating music and distant chatter compound his anxieties.
Does he really want this? Will Nani be kind? Will he laugh at how inexperienced Cherry is?
Cherry suddenly wants to run and feels panic rise up in his chest. He decides then. He doesn't want this. Cherry tries to push at Nani's shoulders, but his muscles feel weak. The sick feeling rises tenfold, and the room starts to spin. Cherry tries to call out, to speak, to ask a question, but his tongue is heavy and his mind feels slow. The panic and fear consume him, but he can't move.
"I don't think we should—I don't feel good." Cherry’s voice is thin and small. He again tries to push at Nani’s shoulders, but his muscles won’t cooperate. Nani continues to kiss up and down Cherry's neck.
"Don't worry. You will feel so good soon." Nani laughs, and the pitch turns Cherry's blood cold. Nani pulls back and smiles in the dark.
"I have friends I want you to meet—“
There is sudden movement and yelling. Nani pulls away fast, and Cherry slumps against the wall. It's Jeevi's friend Kumar. The rich one. He looks angry.
"Meetha?!" He motions at Cherry and moves into a violent stance.
Cherry can hear more footsteps and doors slamming. Men are yelling, and someone's pulling Cherry's arm and tossing him to the ground. His head spins, and he resists the urge to vomit. In his periphery, Cherry can faintly see Nani running out the back exit and one of Kumar's friends giving chase. He wonders if they will catch him and what they will do. A part of him feels relieved, but another worries about his own fate. When he looks up at Kumar, he sees rage and shifting bodies.
Cherry hears Jeevi's voice. It sounds panicked. There's shoving and arguing, and Cherry's being pulled. He feels himself being dragged around, and the yelling gets louder. Even the terrible pop music has stopped, and new voices join the chorus. He feels a faint sense of fear, but any real decisive emotions are pushed out by nausea and disorientation.
Cherry feels a rush of bodies, pushing and pulling, and then he and Jeevi are outside, running through the city. He won't remember much else of that night but Jeevi's curses, the whipping sting of the late-night wind, and the heavy thud as he's dropped on his sleeping mat.
When Cherry wakes the next day, it's to a pounding headache and the smell of vomit. He's on his belly, face turned, and there's a bucket nearby that he missed when he was sick in the night. He feels faintly upset that it’s his pink bucket he uses to shower. Cherry grabs at his bedding and tries to steady himself enough to sit up. When he finally gets his bearings, he can see it’s still early in the morning, and he finds Jeevi sitting on the floor with a cricket bat clutched to his chest. He’s wearing the same outfit from last night and looks exhausted and anxious.
"You stupid idiot! You remember last night?" Jeevi screeches at him. Cherry winces at the noise and holds a hand to his ear. The room spins again, and he reaches for the bucket and retches.
"They nearly killed you and me when they saw you." Jeevi stops and winces.
Jeevi won’t say it out loud. Saw you kissing that man. He isn't sure if Jeevi already knew this about Cherry or if he just found out. Either way, his friend is still here, and maybe that's all that matters. Jeevi exhales and moves to check outside through the window, clutching his bat. Cherry wipes at his drooling lip and lets out a small sob.
"W-Why am I so sick?" Cherry tries not to cry, but the pain is unbearable. His muscles ache, his stomach churns, and his bones cry out for more rest.
"I had to stay up all night and watch you! Make sure you didn't choke. If my friends hadn't killed you, that Madda would have." Jeevi spits, his voice going high at the end.
Memories of last night come rushing back for Cherry, and his stomach somehow sinks further. His drink at the bar, Nani’s wandering hand, the dark corner, and the empty smile. Cherry makes a panicked noise, suddenly filled with shame. He looks to Jeevi with wild eyes, and Jeevi’s expression softens. Pity.
"Cherry, they followed us here last night. They were so angry. I really didn’t expect them to care so much! I thought they were friends, but anna, I'm sorry, but they—“ Jeevi pauses and looks out the window again.
His eyes point to the street, and he looks nervously back to Cherry. Cherry pushes himself off the floor and wobbles over to look outside. What he sees makes him cry out. Nausea forgotten, he runs out of his flat barefoot and into the street.
Parked on the curb is his rickshaw, stripped to bare bones and covered in painted insults and slurs. Cherry lets out a noise of anguish and touches the dash. Everything is missing. The engine, the tires, the battery, even the little fan. Scratches and dents, bent framing, shattered glass. This was all he had, his first step towards something better. It feels like that's all he's ever capable of—first steps over and over, all ending up nowhere. He can't pay rent without his auto, and he can't get employment with his criminal record. Hot tears slip down his cheeks, and his stomach turns over.
Defeated, Cherry finally hobbles back inside, and Jeevi sits with him while he cries. Jeevi assures him everything will be okay and pats his back. He helps him mop up the mess and gets Cherry washed and changed. Cherry sometimes isn’t sure about Jeevi’s friendship, but he will remember the gentle pull of the washcloth over his stomach and back as Jeevi helps him bathe. The kindness in that is enough to trust him.
When he puts Cherry back to bed, Jeevi tells him to rest and get better and to only sleep on his belly. Jeevi is going to fix this.
Jeevi doesn't return until the very early hours of the next morning. The sun isn't up, but a blue glow shines in through the window. Cherry slept through the whole day, but he doesn't feel like emptying his guts out on the floor anymore. Cherry sits up slowly at the shuffle of Jeevi's feet. Jeevi tries to smile a greeting, but he looks rushed and skittish. He hands Cherry a small plate of food and moves to start rifling through Cherry’s dresser again.
"You're coming with me." Jeevi's tone is flat and sure. Cherry pauses with a mouthful of uttapam. He swallows and tries to register the words, but his head is still fuzzy.
"The train leaves in an hour. Pack everything, and let's go. I stole enough from my father to keep us for a while, but we have to go now!" Jeevi barks, throwing clothing left and right and tossing Cherry his backpack.
"W-where, Jeevi?!" Cherry asks between bites. Jeevi makes an exasperated sound and stops. He moves to grab a glass of water from the shared washroom in the hall, then returns to hand it to Cherry. Cherry gulps it down quickly with his food.
"He wants to marry me off, Cherry. He picked some sixteen-year-old girl from Kurnool! A child! I asked him for money for your auto, and he gave me a wife!" Jeevi’s words are tight and frightened. Cherry's eyes widen, and he's finally able to focus.
"So I stole the money, but we can't stay. He'll come looking." Jeevi continues to grab and pack Cherry’s clothing, but Cherry still looks confused and exhausted. Jeevi rambles over his shoulder.
“Odisha. The man Sekhar told me about. It’s easy money, and they help with a flat. Sekhar still needs men, and he says he'll take me and one more. You can be one more Cherry!" Jeevi tries to look hopeful, but Cherry shakes his head and scoffs.
"He's a gangster, anna, a criminal." Cherry argues weakly, remembering the way Jeevi would talk about Sekhar in the past.
"And you're an ex-con who can fight. You know there’s nothing left for you here. You come with me, or you move to the slums, but you have to choose now." Jeevi finishes and holds himself rigid.
Cherry's shoulders slump. He looks around the small flat. He doesn't own much, just his bed, clothing, his tablet, and the little cheetah figurine his mother gave him as a child. He supposes this is the only way he can expect things to go for him, bouncing from one space to the next, holding onto the threads of life by his fingertips. He looks back at Jeevi with sad eyes.
"Who would we work for?” Cherry whispers.
Jeevi smiles.
The ride to the station is strange and quiet. The men they share the auto with don't seem very friendly. Cherry learns one of them is Sekhar, but he doesn't introduce himself. He sits in the front seat chewing on betel nut, glancing lazily back to Cherry and Jeevi with an amused expression.
Eventually they reach the train station and board with tickets Jeevi buys. They press through warm bodies and try to ignore the scent of hot food. Cherry looks down when his eyes catch fathers greeting their children with a hug and women crying gently into fabric as they wave goodbye to the men they love.
Jeevi has a nervous energy around him and keeps his words clipped. He looks like he’s trying to convince himself this is still a good idea. Cherry feels numb to the sudden upheaval of his life. These events no longer surprise him. He watches busy streets out the window turn to open fields and coastal towns.
Cherry leans back in his seat and tries to sleep. Soft and quiet memories of his childhood drift behind his eyelids. The promises his father made, the dreams his mother had for him. He wonders if they can see him now and what they would think. What would they want for him? He wonders if that even matters.
Cherry clutches his bag and feels the tiny cheetah figurine through the thin fabric, bundled in newspaper to protect it. He feels its strong edges, solid and still whole, cared for deeply all these years. When he was young, people would often say how much he looked like his mother. He’s not sure if that’s true. Her face in his mind is like a fading photograph, dull and vague. Cherry’s heart clenches, and he packs those memories away before darker thoughts move in. Memories from a night full of rain and blood. Like bumps along the road.
Sekhar chews slowly, whispering things to the other rowdy with him. Jeevi asks a few questions here and there, receiving very little information over the screech and pull of train rails. They leap out during a stop for a piss in an open field, but Cherry decides to wait. The new landscape is unfamiliar and open. He can only see the open plains and empty skies. They seem to be traveling into the middle of nowhere.
When they finally arrive, they tumble out of the train car to meet empty fields bordering sandy beaches and cold water. The nearby city is Brahmapur. They are assured it has housing open for them. Cherry and Jeevi climb into a truck Sekhar has parked at the station and drive off fast and angry.
The haveli they end up at is massive and desolate, with fake trimmed grass too green and bright and tall stone pillars. Armed men mill around as they park, and they are both searched before being allowed to gather with other men in an open yard. The hardened men seem familiar with each other and the haveli. Cherry realizes he and Jeevi are the only new members. They both look like they don’t belong. Jeevi finds a place next to Sekhar, and Cherry tries to stay close. They wait a while, talking amongst themselves, swapping stories. Cherry doesn’t really hear them, and Jeevi can only nervously laugh.
They are interrupted by a sudden movement in the group and then a hush. A new, smaller group of men enters the yard, led by a figure everyone seems to have their eyes on. The man's stride is long and heavy. He moves with weight through the crowd, and bodies part for him like water. Cherry stretches his neck for a proper look but struggles to see past the taller men in front of him. Eventually, the man makes it to a raised center of the yard and stands over the crowd. Everyone goes silent.
Cherry can't see everything, but he sees the man’s eyes. They shine and flex as they scan the crowd. His face is different from what Cherry expected. Cherry weaves a bit around the men to try and see clearer. The man's features are soft in some ways, with curved lips and round eyes, but his brow is sharp and heavy against dark pupils. His thick mustache curves too, and his neat beard contrasts the silver rings in his ears. His look carries command with it. It takes up space.
The man starts to speak. His voice is deep like rolling thunder that ends in a windy rasp. Cherry strains to listen, entrapped.
"Today is important. You come ba-ba-back with the supply, or you don't come back." The man’s eyes shift over the crowd as he ensures they understand.
The men murmur and make noises of affirmation. Nobody acknowledges the stammer. Cherry catches the man's gaze for a beat and sees something flash. It feels solid and sure, with a sense of permanence. It courses through Cherry’s body, and he fidgets with his hands. The man turns to whisper in the ear of an older man next to him. This older man looks similar to the man in charge, with a curled mustache and a strong sense of authority, but he carries a light of wisdom in his eyes.
Suddenly that older man is barking orders, and the crowd is moving around. Cherry stands still, his eyes still on their leader. A thousand questions filter through his mind as he follows the man’s movements. Cherry startles as he feels a hand on his shoulder, then Jeevi's low whisper against his ear.
"Raavan."
Chapter 2: Berhampur
Summary:
No man is an island.
Chapter Text
Jai is awake when his alarm buzzes. He hasn't needed it for years, but he keeps it set as a reminder of the control he’s cultivated over his body. When it rings out into the quiet room, he shuts it off quickly and returns to his meditation. Jai is sitting on the edge of his raised bed, wearing nothing but his molathadu and the silver rings in his ear. It's dark in his room, not just from lack of sunlight, but from the deep colors of his bedding and walls. The only light is blue and soft, and it covers his room like a blanket.
Jai counts his beads and breathes. He puts a hand to his throat and taps his fingers twice, then swallows. He tries to imagine the muscles of his vocal cords keeping loose, staying soft, and flexing easily with elasticity. Setting his mala to the side, Jai lies back on the bed, placing one hand on his chest and one hand on his belly. Keeping his chest still, he breathes in deeply, letting his diaphragm expand and feeling the hand on his belly rise. On each exhale he speaks his exercise words slowly.
"Pancha. Peru. Pa-pa-pa-pandu."
Jai closes his eyes in frustration and swallows. His face heats with shame, and his muscles pull tight, resistant to accepting defeat. He tries to calm himself and exhales heavily. Remembering his mantra, he tries to redirect. Jai repeats the exercise, taking deep breaths and practicing different words, not letting any interruptions stop him. When he finishes, he ties his dark lungi low on his hips and pads to a tall cabinet with wide doors. He opens the cabinet to reveal a shrine with three small figurines at the front. Jai contemplates their shape, reminding himself who he is and where he comes from. Soft and hazy memories float through his mind. Small hands, light laughter, and the cleansing light of fire. Jai touches each figure, then touches both sides of his mouth and closes the cabinet.
Getting dressed is a ritual. Jai's threads and beads sit on his skin first, then a long, tailored kurta over light churidar pants. He prefers traditional wear when addressing his men before a job. Tonight is important. He applies kajal quickly and slips on his watch, the back clasp still loose, often causing it to dangle. He needs the watch fixed but never has the time.
It’s still early, and the fort is quiet. Jai always wakes before any of his men do, and he prefers it that way. Doing a patrol of the building, he finds it mostly quiet and hollow. He continues towards the kitchen to eat.
Jai's breakfast is often light. Chai and bun maska. His stomach is usually too sensitive for anything heavy in the morning. Kaakha eats at the table with him, and he reads the morning paper. Dipping his bun in chai always offers a comfort of warmth and familiar memories, but he makes sure to keep that to himself, even around Kaakha.
Reading the paper keeps Jai up-to-date with the local politics he's often hired to manipulate, as does the kitchen radio kept on a national news channel. Jai refuses to use more modern technology. If there's anything the paper or radio doesn't report on, his men will let him know. Kaakha ignores the radio, instead focusing on the here and now, the more pressing matters he can control.
"Tonight should be quick and simple. The drivers are new and young. They won't put up a fight." Kaakha lifts another handful of pongal to his mouth and hums around it.
"I'm not worried." Jai says without looking up from his paper, his reading glasses resting on the edge of his nose. “I’m sure you will do fi-fine.”
"We have two new boys arriving, all the way from Hyderabad.” Kaakha quips. “Tonight is a good first job to test them." Kaakha makes a delighted noise and returns to his meal.
Jai hums and arches an eyebrow. "Have I seen them?"
The question sits uncomfortably within Jai. He tries to resist comparing his work to a revolving door of young men. Lost men bent on dying for the chance to live a criminal lifestyle, or even worse, feel they have no choice.
Kaakha shrugs. "They will be here before tonight. I have files prepared for you if you want to read them before we go."
Jai huffs. It still impresses Jai to see how effortlessly Kaakha organizes and cultivates their work together.
"Do I ha-ha-have time?" Jai clenches his jaw. That one hurt. He tries to ignore the pain.
Kaakha resists the urge to roll his eyes, instead settling on swaying his head and swallowing another bite.
"They don't have much of a background. The older one is a friend of Sekhar but doesn't hold much promise. We both know what Sekhar’s judgment often looks like. The younger one is a tagalong. He was sent to a children’s prison twelve years ago, then transferred to the adult population. He killed another boy his age when he was ten. I'm interested in that one."
Jai listens but says nothing. He turns the page of his paper.
"You need to get that watch fixed." Kaakha tilts his head to Jai's wrist.
Jai grunts and sips his chai. He dips another bun and chews it thoughtfully. Jai considers Kaakha for a moment, his oldest confidant, old enough to be his father, and usually the only person he trusts. He remembers his childhood, taken in as an orphan by the older man. He remembers the kind moments, where he felt cared for and safe. And the violent ones, the ones he isn’t always comfortable remembering. But Kaakha is still important to him, perhaps the closest thing to family he knows. He sometimes wonders if Kaakha feels the same but decides it's not something they need to speak about. They eat in silence, and when they finish, Kaakha leans back and lets out a sigh.
"The boy downstairs still won't talk. They want your advice."
Jai grunts and puts down his paper. "We'll deal with that first."
The silence in the room is deafening. The overhead light sways, casting shifting shadows on tired men and stone walls. Jai's two guards sit in a corner, exhausted, watching Jai work. The young man in the center of the basement rests on his knees, his hands bound in front and tethered to a metal ring embedded in the floor. He's quiet, naked, and covered in blood. Jai circles him like a vulture, contemplating his punishment.
Jai tosses a lathi to the floor and wipes his hands on a rag, staining it red. He tries to catch his breath and blots his forehead with a clean patch of the cloth. The task is a strain, but he doesn’t wilt under the threat of hard work. The man on the floor gurgles and chokes. Jai grins, shoving his boot heel against his head and pressing.
"Is it really wo-wo-worth your life?" Jai tightens his vocal cords, and the rest of his muscles lock, letting his weight and stance fill the room.
The small man twists his neck and smiles wide, showing his teeth, stained black with blood. He coughs and wheezes but does his best to speak.
"I'm already dead. Either you do it—" The man takes a shaky, wet breath, "—or I do it." He spits at Jai’s feet, splattering blood and mucus on Jai’s shoes.
Jai hums and smiles. "We have the photos, Kantri. We could send them to your wife, your daughters when they are old enough, or your mo-mother. No matter how you decide to die."
Kantri's eyes widen with panic. He shakes with fear and rage. Jai presses his foot harder, hearing bone creak, flesh strain, and skin split. Kantri yells out in anguish and makes a futile attempt to pull away.
"I don't like to repeat myself!" Jai's voice echoes off the stone walls, loud and sharp. "Wh-who gave you the girls!?" He enunciates with his foot, lifting it from Kantri's face to stomp on his shackled hand.
Kantri lets out a cry and pleads for Jai to stop. “You can’t! Please! My family can’t know!” Kantri starts to shake and retches bile and blood onto the floor. Jai sneers in response.
The floor is a mess, as expected when dealing with a disgusting man like Kantri. Jai takes a deep breath and bends to bring his head close to Kantri. “Give me their names. That's all I need. I’ll burn you here and send your ashes to your mother.”
Kanti’s lungs rattle, and he whines, all the fight leaving his body. "Srinivasa. They're brothers." Kantri sighs, relieved it’s over.
Jai smirks, and Kantri responds with a rueful laugh. “You think you’re enacting vengeance? Justice? You don’t know what they are like. Young and small, but they know what they do to men. They want it.”
Kantri laughs again at the anger and disgust that flashes across Jai's face. The sound is guttural and wet, the disgusting sludge that comes from inside him. Jai leaves Kantri and immediately turns to one of his men. He grabs a pistol, pulls back the slide, and aims the weapon down. Kantri continues to speak, not concerned with the click he hears near his head.
“I showed them what happens when you taunt men. They’re ruined now.” Kantri’s whispers float like smoke into Jai’s ears. They settle cold in his blood. He exhales and fires two quick bullets into the back of Kantri's head.
There is silence, a dark stillness in place of whatever life Kantri may have lost. Jai's men look embarrassed, worn down to their nerves from the violence.
"S-sorry, Maharaj, we didn't know about the photos. We would have tried that." One of his men offers meekly. Jai turns and returns the gun.
"There are none. Don't be afraid to lie." Jai smiles.
Blood pools under Kantri's limp body, and Jai tells the men to clean it up. "No pyre. Bury him shallow on the be-beach for the birds to find."
Jai walks up the stairs from the basement and finds Kaakha waiting for him outside the door. He looks exasperated and impatient. Jai wipes at his brow and hands and worries he might need to change. The violence in the basement fades, packed away to the back of his mind. That problem is taken care of. Kaakha watches Jai closely, scrutinizing everything unsaid between them.
"I've always known you to be compassionate, sentimental, and full of empathy, but finding these men. Is it all really worth it? We have their take.” Kaakha's sarcasm makes Jai scoff, his mask settling back into place.
"No women, no children—that's the agreement, yes? We took money from rapists. If we wa-want to keep that money, we take their lives too."
The rest of Jai’s day is uneventful, sorting plans and going back over the delivery route. Jai does his calisthenics, followed by a quick shower and lunch. He travels to a meeting in town with a local inspector resistant to his demands on the upcoming election. Jai doesn't need to strong-arm him. The officer just wants more money. When Jai returns, he does a quick tour of the grounds, surveying his men and their work. He passes through the sorting room. The men stiffen as he walks through, counting cash, weapons, and other various hauls. With as much authority and command as Jai has to uphold, he is proud of the quality of men that join his outfit. He knows they respect him. He would have no power without them, and he doesn’t easily forget that.
Jai ends up at the back of the haveli, in his office, near his room. He takes the time to read through Kaakha's reports at his desk. He finds that Kaakha is right. The older boy, Jeevi, is here to prove a point, and Jai holds no hope that will happen. His photo promises nothing specific other than that he looks too clean. The other one, Charan, is only twenty-four. He looks even younger, but his background suggests something dark. Jai catches how long the photo lingers in his hand. Charan’s eyes carry something inexplicable. Something alluring. Jai rubs his short beard and pulls at the end of his mustache, thinking.
Kaakha is going over the night's plans in the main hall with Shatru, Tapan, and a few guards. Jai joins them eventually, carrying a bowl of fruit and yellow rice. He looks at his most trusted men and tilts his head toward the altar near the back wall. Kaakha looks confused, but he and the men follow.
"Raavan, you won't need to come tonight. The job is simple. Tapan and I can handle leadership." Kaakha offers gently. Jai lights two dhoop sticks and circles them around the group.
"I need to o-observe something myself." Jai says. He leaves no space for argument.
Jai places the offering to Raavan's statue in the center of the hall and lights a lamp, rotating the dish in front of himself and toward his men. Kaakha takes over the devotions, for unspoken reasons, and Jai applies kumkum. They leave to address the rest of the men, twenty or so waiting in the courtyard. Jai makes his way to a raised platform and stands before them with confidence. It’s important his men know Jai’s resolve is always strong in the work they do, that they’re following him into a fight, and that they can trust the path he carves out.
As Jai observes the group, he sees a face stand out in the crowd and recognizes it immediately. Charan is young and dressed in clothing far too bright for a night job. He looks out of place but doesn’t seem anxious. The friend standing next to him, Jeevi, does. Jeevi is fairly average in appearance and strength and bores Jai into forgetting his name. Charan makes a different kind of impression. His hair is straight like wire and damp around his face, but his eyes are wide and deep. It takes a moment for Jai to turn away from them. Jai addresses the men, then takes a moment to speak in Kaakhas's ear.
"That's too young." Jai whispers.
Kaakha only barks out a laugh and starts delivering assignments. Tapan and Shatru lead ten men to the back of one truck. Kaakha and Jai lead eight men to the other. Sekhar makes sure the new ones ride with Jai. Four men on each team get rifles for the push, and everyone has a pistol. Jai watches quietly as Charan and Jeevi are denied weapons until they can prove they are worth the cost.
They pile in fast and quiet, Jai taking the passenger seat and banging his palm on the door once it shuts. He tilts his sunglasses down to watch gray storm clouds appear on the horizon and the trucks pull out.
Kaakha is right. The job is simple. The men transporting the weapons are young and scared, members of a new outfit trying to rival Jai's. Raavan's. Their flagrancy makes them loud and foolish.
"Do you know who this belongs to? You will regret it!" The trembling warning comes from one of the aforementioned fools.
Jai doesn't respond, only clicks his tongue, and a guard silences the man with a boot to his stomach. Jai has them all tied and kneeling, watching helplessly as Jai’s men transfer box after box to their own trucks. Jai leans against the bridge railing in the light drizzle of rain, his umbrella and sunglasses like armor against anyone that tries to get too close. He assures the captured men that they won’t face a bullet if they stay still and keep their mouths shut.
Jai turns his attention back to his men, who work fast and discreetly. He's usually impressed by their organized and efficient work. Tonight, however, there is a small disruption. The new one, the clean one, Jeevi, stumbles with anxiety. He bumps, trips, and moves slowly. His eyes dart everywhere and seem filled with terror anytime they land on Jai's hidden gaze. Jai lets out a sigh, already scheduling a talk with Sekhar in his mind.
The other one, however, younger and brighter, floats easily through the men, working fast. Charan carries less but keeps up a pace that forgives his smaller stature. He makes little noises and even lets out a quiet laugh when he nearly bumps into a larger man who crosses his path. Charan stops for a moment when Sekhar pulls a pistol on the captive men to keep them quiet. The violence doesn’t seem to affect him, and he goes back to his task.
Jai pats at his mustache and continues to watch the boy work. Charan moves nimbly, and Jai has to ignore the urge to watch his hips as he walks. Eventually, Charan looks at Jai. It's abrupt and clear, a sudden realization that Jai is watching him.
Jai cannot explain the feeling that pulses through him. It's a small moment, but it tumbles down into depths both inside himself and out. It finds a chasm that swells with heat and curiosity, an affectionate reflection of how the thin strands of dark hair contrast against complexion and moonlight. Charan's eyes are flat and dark like ink, framed in long lashes and tired lines; they carry something familiar that Jai can't see clearly, and so he fixates. Jai doesn't turn his gaze. He watches openly behind dark lenses as Charan's expression shifts and curls around Jai's attention. Like fluttering dust in sunlight, only revealing itself as it burns. Strange to express in the dark night, reflecting rain.
Charan eventually shifts the box in his arms and turns away slowly, continuing on his path. Jai resists the urge to follow.
When they finally finish, Jai feels pulled from a trance. His hand is wet and cold with rain, tilted back too far, and ignored. He returns to the front of the truck and waits as the men pack themselves away. They laugh as they pass the bound men left in the muddy road, tossing a knife to allow them to break free before the sun rises.
On the ride back, Jai's thoughts are clouded by ink and silk.
Raavan’s band of men returns to the fort safely. Jai walks with Kaakha back toward the haveli, and the men start to unload.
"Dinner?" Jai asks Kaakha when he recognizes a pull at the bottom of his stomach.
"Not tonight.” Kaakha smiles. “My sister is visiting." Jai tries to ignore the feeling of disappointment as he watches Kaakha turn toward the garage, waving his hand.
"It was a good night, Raavan!" Kaakha calls out as he walks away. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Jai turns his mouth to the side, a twist in his chest as he enters the haveli alone. Men make their way in and out of the sorting area. Despite the noise and movement, the haveli feels hollow again. Too big, echoing footsteps and the shuffle of fabric. Jai’s skin feels too tight in the open space, and he decides to retreat to the private kitchen near his room.
Finding his dinner is easy, but settling into it isn’t. Lost in thought, the food is cold by the time Jai touches it. Prepared earlier and reheated, it doesn’t suffice, tempering Jai’s appetite. The meal is a gongura curry, an aroma that evokes old memories. An echo of three pairs of small hands eating from the same dish forces him to push his plate back. The rain pounds loudly on the roof. Jai isn’t immune to the terror of thunder. He rubs at his temples, a migraine threatening to make its way forward.
The job went well, but an itch lingers under Jai’s skin. He leaves the kitchen frustrated and moves toward his private rooms, opting for a shower to decompress.
Stepping into the hot water, Jai lets his breathing slow. He focuses on how the water pressure pounds his tired muscles and washes away his anxiety. After scrubbing with his favorite soap, Jai lets his mind wander under the heat.
The man from the eastern village comes into view, the farmer with strong arms and a trim waist. Memories of dark, heavy curls and full lips flash through his mind, and Jai's cock starts to fill, heavy between his legs. He pets the space under his belly, wet and slick with soap suds. His pubic hair feels soft under his wet fingertips, and he hums when the sensitive skin near his cock sings at the attention.
Jai takes the opportunity for relief, filling his palm with coconut oil and letting his hand grip the base of his cock and stroke down. He sighs and quickly grows fat in his hand, letting out a grunt at the building sensations. The muscles in his arm and shoulder flex as he strokes himself, pulling back and forth over slick foreskin. The sound is obscene and adds to his arousal. He can feel his face and ears burn as he licks at his lips. Jai’s feet plant firmly, and his movements become more pointed.
Images flash behind Jai’s eyelids. The farmer on his knees, an expression of bliss as he kisses and tongues at Jai's wet shaft. The farmer is wet too, his curls flat and soaked in the shower. The hair on the farmer’s body is dark and dense as soap mixes in with his complexion beautifully. Jai feels how hard he is in his palm and shudders. The fantasy makes Jai groan. A dark mustache stark against his swollen cock as it disappears into the farmer’s wet mouth. It's been so long since he's felt that kind of soft heat, and his balls ache with the memory.
Jai starts to pant as his wrist twists and strokes. His own wet mustache sends water rivulets over his lips and tongue. His other hand finds the crease between his thigh and pushes towards the sensitive sack under his cock, tugging and massaging as he strokes faster. His bottom lip trembles, and the hot water encourages the rush of warm blood, pumping pleasure throughout Jai’s tired body. The farmer is eager and experienced. He pulls Jai to the back of his throat, letting the head of his cock feel tight constriction when he swallows. Vibration when he hums.
Jai groans and watches with closed eyes as the farmer pulls at himself, overwhelmed with his own arousal. The farmer's hand comes up to hold the base of Jai’s cock and twists as his mouth works faster. Jai's pace falters as he feels the farmer's mouth pull away to press and lick at Jai’s balls. The soft, hot sensation of a tongue is almost too much to even imagine in Jai’s heightened state.
A rumble builds in Jai’s chest, now wet and slick. He finds a nipple and tugs, grunting at the flash of pain and the rush of pleasure. Jai is very close, very fast, and almost against his wishes, the fantasy changes: A strong face with wide shoulders shifts to a petite frame and soft cheeks. Honey eyes go black, and tight curls lie flat like sheets. The mouth on Jai’s cock is now less experienced and sloppy. Jai’s cock presses against loose, soft lips and is shoved into the side of a cheek. A bright little smile and a pink tongue come out to tease. Jai lets out a long moan, and his wrist strokes faster.
Jai feels as hard as steel, and his body pulses with warmth. He doesn’t want to linger on the reasoning behind this new cluster of images, so he embraces it. The boy on his knees, whose name Jai refuses to even think, looks up sheepishly and lets go of his cock with a pop.
“Are you gonna fuck me?” The fantasy slurs.
Jai groans loud and long, and heavy white ropes of cum jump out and land near his feet on the shower floor. His orgasm is intense, covering his body like crashing waves. He pumps himself fast through it, twisting his wrist up and letting a hand rest on his belly. The rush is such a relief. It pulsates through his blood from his hips to his ears. He groans as his pelvis thrusts on its own and then slows. Jai slumps against the wall, all energy and resistance wrung out of him like a wet rag. He feels the soft hum of the afterglow and watches as the evidence of this new fantasy washes down the drain.
Clean and sated from his wash, Jai pads around his room when he hears a faint sound. It's quiet at first but picks up. Angry voices and bodies moving. He listens closer to the sounds and realizes it's his men. His hackles rise. They know to behave discreetly this close to the fort. Jai ties his lungi quickly and puts on a kurta to head outside. It's raining heavily now from the night's earlier drizzle. He forgets to grab an umbrella but cannot be concerned about it as the noises get louder.
When Jai finally reaches them, he's greeted with a confusing sight. The men have long finished unloading and have all packed into the back of their transport truck to return to their housing in Berhampur. They gather at the back of the truck, looking down at a figure lying in the mud. Jai's hair and clothes start to soak as he realizes the man on the ground has been pushed out. Pushed out by the men watching from the truck bed.
Jai realizes his men do not notice that he is nearby and chooses not to alert them. Jai stays quiet, watching the moment unfold. The men are laughing and yelling as the man in the mud tries to stand and push back into the truck. It isn't until he fully stands and lightning flashes that Jai sees it's the new boy. Charan. The sky cracks, moonlight shining against his features, slick with mud and rain.
Jai's face does something complicated, but he doesn't interfere. Charan is covered in cold earth, the tips of his hair heavy and dripping with it, his clothing caked. Charan makes a frustrated noise, and his voice breaks. Jai can see the other boy, Jeevi, watch helplessly and say nothing.
Charan crawls toward the truck looking defeated. Just as Jai opens his mouth to end this, Charan lunges. From his position, he is able to latch onto the frontman's ankles and pull sharply. It's Sekhar. The elder rowdy slips when he’s pulled, and his back lands hard on the truck's bumper. Sekhar lets out a scream and falls face-first into the mud.
The rest of the men pile out fast and surround Charan, their fists clenched and voices loud against the thunder and rain. Charan's eyes are hard and angry. He looks at the men around him like they’re meat and goes rigid with anticipation of the next attack. Charan is quick and light in the mud, and Jai's men are slow. Charan lands punches effortlessly and dodges the ones thrown at him. Jai watches quietly and is surprised to admit that Charan’s moves are impressive.
Charan uses the mud to his advantage, sliding through it while the men sink deeper or slip. Charan pulls at loose clothing to disorient them and kicks his leg back behind their ankles, anything to give them unsteady feet. He eventually brings every man to meet mud at least once, except Jeevi, who stays in the truck bed, watching anxiously.
But Charan is still one against many, and eventually, Jai’s men have the upper hand. They use their strength in numbers to crowd him and restrict his movement, returning him back into the mud as they circle him. Sekhar stands triumphantly over Cherry's small body and raises a foot on Cherry's chest. He laughs, and the other men join him. Jai has to strain to hear as Sekhar speaks out against the rain and thunder.
"Weak. We can't use weak. Did you only join hoping you'd find one of us to fuck you?" The men laugh at Sekhar’s hissed words, and Charan screeches under his foot.
"We should bring you out to a field. We should stone you for it. Kothi.” Sekhar spits the insult, and a white rage flashes through Jai's body.
Jai puts his index finger between his teeth. He pushes it against the underside of his tongue and whistles long and loud. The sound soars sharply over the cracking thunder, making his men jump and turn. Upon seeing Jai, they immediately scramble back into the truck, slipping and struggling, and slam the bed closed. Jeevi is pushed further into his corner but seems too ashamed to seek Charan's wilted body. Sekhar jumps into the driver's seat with a wince, and the truck speeds off. Charan tries to chase after it but isn’t fast enough in the sticky mud. He lets out a frustrated yell as the truck disappears down the road. When he turns, Jai is watching him with a cold stare.
They eye each other openly again, studying each other like rivals. Jai is still as stone, not affected by the weather or the crudeness of his men. Charan pants, and lightning flashes behind him, still covered in rain and muck. He eventually starts to shiver, his teeth chattering pathetically. Jai makes a decision he's afraid he will come to regret but can't stomach the alternative. Charan's body finally goes limp with recollection, and he gives Jai an open expression, one that pleads.
Jai lets out an annoyed sound but sighs in defeat. He clicks his tongue and tilts his head, an invitation, before heading back into the haveli. Charan pulls on his hands. He's very cold and very wet, but he doesn't know anything about this man or this place. He looks back and forth between the haveli and the disappearing truck, weighing options he doesn't have. Charan looks up to the dark sky, pleading with the new moon for advice. Jai turns back, and his expression softens. He offers something gentle, and Charan accepts it.
Charan swallows reluctantly, clamps his chattering teeth, and moves to follow Jai inside.
Chapter 3: Pandu
Summary:
Cherry settles in.
Chapter Text
Cherry can feel the cold in his bones like a weight he can’t lift. The mud sticks to his skin and clothing like a paste. His hair is matted in filth, and his face is swiped with dirt. Cherry follows behind Raavan, who seems just as drenched from the downpour while somehow not looking cold or disheveled. The walk up to the haveli is long and quiet, save for the roar of rain and blood in Cherry's ears. Raavan's strides are long, but he doesn't rush.
Cherry’s whole body aches, and he can feel blood run sluggishly from his nose. He makes the mistake of wiping at his face, only to smear the mess further. He sniffs and then winces at the small sound he makes from the resulting pain. He can see a fraction of a movement from Raavan's neck and a flash of discernment. It makes Cherry feel like he's being watched.
Raavan doesn't stop or speak as he continues through the courtyard and exterior hallways, making his way up grand steps to the front entrance of the main building. Cherry longs to step inside where it's warm and dry. Raavan stops at the door and turns. Cherry stops to bounce on his feet while trying to control his chattering teeth. He isn't sure exactly where to look when Raavan faces him and settles on the silver buttons of his kurta.
Raavan studies Cherry for a moment and stays silent. Cherry cautiously lifts his gaze to see a hard expression against soft lines. He admires the sloping curves of Raavan’s face as water drips down and accentuates his features. Cherry is immediately drawn in by Raavan’s eyes. They’re dark and deep, hidden behind a thin shape, even when they shine. Raavan’s eyes carry a light that pulls Cherry in. The moment between them is heavy but cut short when Raavan turns to head inside. Cherry tries to follow, but a hand comes out to stop him.
"Wait.“ Raavan clips.
Cherry’s movements stutter when Raavan disappears into the haveli. Cherry sighs and takes the time to process that night, tucking his wet arms around himself. Things had been going so well. Being a rowdy wasn't so hard. Lifting and moving boxes wasn’t exactly what Cherry had expected, but it seemed to be something he could handle until the ride back. The men had given him sneers and pushed at him as he started to help them unload. He caught Jeevi's guilty gaze when his friend hid in the truck. Small and pathetic.
It had only gotten worse, especially as the higher-ranking men started to leave, the ones who lived with Raavan and had any authority. The lower men started taunting him openly, calling him small and weak, while paying no attention to Jeevi. The situation eventually came to a boiling point as they finished their work and started to climb into the truck back to Berhampur. When Cherry heard the slur called out, he knew what they were upset about. He still isn't sure if this was something they knew about him or just decided for themselves. He supposes it doesn't really matter. They refused to let him ride with them. If he can't work with them, he has nowhere else to go.
Now he is here, under storm clouds. Wet, cold, and bleeding. He presumably has no home, and not even Jeevi is with him to offer comfort. He looks up at the dark sky, watching as the heavy clouds part and the new moon shines down. He wonders why these moments always come to him under her light. If perhaps she’s angry with him, eager to show how little his life is worth. He sniffs and admires the stars that cluster close. Cherry wonders for a moment if he focuses too often on the wrong light.
Cherry’s thoughts are interrupted by the shuffle of feet and a cough. He turns to find a tall man with a full beard standing in the doorway, opening an umbrella. It’s someone he recognizes from the run earlier. The man looks tired and annoyed, but his body is relaxed and open. No bravado or threatening masculinity to worry about. Cherry lets his shoulders drop and repeats the mistake of wiping at his bleeding nose. The man’s features soften further, and he clicks his tongue for Cherry to follow him. They don’t go inside, but rather, the man moves out into the rain and walks down toward the side of the building. He does not offer to share the umbrella, but Cherry figures that would be useless at this point. The man turns back to speak over the patter of rain.
“Shatru.” He says with a smile and points to himself.
It's then that Cherry realizes Shatru is carrying a folded bundle of fabric in a small bucket. Cherry doesn't ask what for, but he does wonder where Raavan went. If he will see him again tonight. Regardless, he follows Shatru through mud and across stone, weaving around buildings and pillars. Cherry doesn't pick up his feet. His shoes are ruined anyway, and his trousers are already soaked.
Eventually, they reach an open space with a large wooden building and stop. Shatru points to the left. Nestled next to the building, Cherry sees an exterior shower and an outhouse. It's been so long since he last used an above-head shower, and here one was rigged up like a watering hose outside. Shatru moves towards it and motions for Cherry to follow. As they stand in front of the structure, Shatru places the bucket on the cement platform near the outhouse.
"Just leave your clothing here. We will deal with it tomorrow. There is soap and thongs under the lungi." Shatru points to the bucket. Cherry's eyes widen as Shatru waits rather than leaving Cherry to it.
"I can turn if it helps, hmm?" Shatru smiles and turns his back with a huff.
Cherry accepts the situation as it unfolds, knowing he needs the wash. He quickly strips off his wet clothes and starts to shiver again. When he pulls the chain of the shower, the experience is nothing close to soothing. The pressure is rough, and the water is ice cold. But it rinses him thoroughly of mud and dirt. He watches as pink water pools on the concrete and pours out onto the ground.
In the end, it will be a relief to be clean, and so Cherry endures. He finishes as fast as he can, scrubbing himself quickly, shaking and shivering through it. His body feels lighter, but he winces as he passes over the bruise forming on his chest.
When Cherry is finished, he pulls the chain once more and steps into the thongs. He haphazardly ties the lungi around his hips as best as he can with shaking hands. Cherry still trembles in the cold, but the weight of the mud is gone, and he feels lighter. He clears his throat, and Shatru turns to give him a once-over.
Shatru reaches for a scarf on his hip and hands it to Cherry. “Here. It’s old.” Shatru motions to his own face, and Cherry realizes the gentle instruction, bringing the thin fabric to his bleeding nose, now only dripping lightly. Shatru decides that’s good enough and motions for Cherry to join him under the umbrella.
They both walk quickly into the building, and Shatru pulls another chain for the light. The building turns out to be a large open room with military-style bunk beds. The walls and bunks are made of old wood, and the smell of dust and oak permeates the space.
"Temporary beds for extra men if they need to stay over for a job. We rarely use them." Shatru points out a set of bunks.
"The top one is for you. You can sleep here tonight, and I'll take you into town in the morning. I won't drive in the rain.”
Cherry nods his head thankfully and climbs up onto the bed. He hands back the scarf after gauging that the bleeding has stopped.
“Keep it. Might start up again.” Shatru quips. Cherry sways his head with a small smile and thanks him with a quiet voice.
“Cherry. My name.” Cherry points to himself. Shatru hums, and Cherry is grateful to not be called fruit for once.
Cherry takes a moment to really look at Shatru in the new light. The man doesn't seem that much older than Cherry, albeit his facial hair is much more impressive. His hair is full and curly, and his face is very nice to look at. Cherry decides he's handsome but tries not to linger on that thought.
Cherry starts to tuck in. The blankets are a bit musty but warm against his cold skin. He tries to bundle in as tight as he can while Shatru watches him. A curious expression passes over Shatru’s face before he moves to leave.
“I’ll be right back.” Shatru says as he turns away. His small umbrella looks silly compared to his tall frame. Cherry's eyelids feel heavy as he watches Shatru jump around a puddle and disappear into the rain.
When Shatru returns, Cherry is almost asleep. Shatru holds out a small dish and a glass, rousing the smaller man. Cherry realizes with a glance that it’s plain rice and water. The rice is a little cold and stiff, but he eats and drinks quickly before handing the dishes back. He hasn’t had any food since that morning and is grateful for the offering. Shatru smiles and moves to sit on the bed below him.
"I have to stay too. Make sure you don't steal—" Shatru glances around the empty room filled with empty beds. "—blankets." He chuckles to himself and turns to get comfortable. Cherry would worry about Shatru’s flippant attitude if he weren't so thoroughly exhausted.
Memories of that day flutter through Cherry’s mind like paper in the wind. He supposes he should be more upset, be angry, or be filled with sadness, but it's starting to feel so normal. The distress, the sudden upheaval of his life. Perhaps this is just how he is expected to live, bouncing from one exhausting challenge to the next. Is this how most people live? Is this just what people mean when they complain about how difficult life can be? These questions weigh too heavily to allow rest, but he decides to let himself be concerned about them in the morning. Cherry’s hair is slick and clean, his skin feels scrubbed, and his blankets are soft. That’s enough for him to drift to sleep and let his aching body sleep.
Strange men are in their home. This is a violent and vivid memory that stalks Cherry every year beyond it. He is a child, small and useless against the strength of angry men. They grab his parents and pull Cherry from their arms. They make his mother cry.
A sharp blade reflects firelight, and a man taunts Cherry’s father with terrifying threats. Cherry can’t always remember them. He can’t recall pleas, but he does remember eyes. His mother’s eyes were filled with tears when the knife pierced her body. His father’s eyes emptied out when the light left them. Cherry didn’t know eyes changed like that in death.
His mother’s body is still when the men leave, and his father’s blood is slick on his small hands.
It’s a memory and a nightmare, and when Cherry wakes from it, he muffles his cries into a pillow that isn’t his.
Cherry stands in front of Raavan. The room is quiet. So quiet that any small noise echoes loudly off the stone walls. Echoes of the rustle of Raavan’s newspaper, the cough of his guard, and the shuffle of Cherry’s feet as he waits to be spoken to.
Raavan sits at a small table with the older man from yesterday. Shatru had introduced him earlier as Kaakha, Raavan’s second in command. They sip chai, and Raavan reads the paper quietly, his back turned to Cherry and his guards.
Cherry feels misplaced and uncomfortable. The shirt Shatru gave him that morning is too big and loose. He has to bunch the sleeves up over his elbows. The trousers feel too small. He wasn't given underwear. He isn't sure what happened to his own clothes, but he doesn’t expect to see them again.
Cherry was lucky to eat a small breakfast and get dressed quickly before this meeting with Raavan. He thought he'd be on his way to housing right now, but it seems the Maharaj wanted to speak to him first. Shatru looks at Cherry and cocks an eyebrow, trying to be encouraging. Cherry responds with teeth on his lip and a sound in his throat.
"I cannot trust you with my men after last night's display." Raavan's voice breaks the silence, deep and flat. He shifts and turns a page of his paper.
Cherry lets out a small noise. His sore nose hurts with the sound. When Cherry speaks, his voice is hoarse and small.
"I wasn't trying to disrespect you, Maharaj. I didn't want to fight. I tried to get away from it." Cherry winces at his poor excuse and starts to panic. "You could hear what they called me—"
Raavan takes a breath and adjusts his paper. Cherry wonders curiously about the reading glasses Raavan wears. Do demon kings need glasses? Kaakha watches the conversation unfold with an amused expression.
"Regardless." Raavan drawls. "If they don't trust you, they won't wo-work with you. That makes you useless." Cherry steps forward to protest, his hands balled into fists, but Raavan raises a hand to silence him.
"You can work in the house with the men who live here. Or, Shatru can drop you off in the city." Raavan's offer sounds final, and with one last look at Shatru, Cherry decides not to argue. He’s starting to think the universe isn't really giving him choices anymore, just flinging him around like a toy. He gives Kaakha a defeated look, who imperceptibly passes it to Raavan.
"Shatru can take you back to Ba-Ba-Baramphur to grab your things, and you can start tomorrow." Raavan sips his chai again, seemingly finished with the interaction. Cherry's eyes dart around nervously.
"I didn't make it to housing. We came straight here from Hyderabad." Cherry counters. He is suddenly very worried about his bag. Raavan turns to look at Shatru.
"In the transport van. In the garage.” Shatru explains with a shrug. “Sekhar took the truck back last night."
Raavan glances at Kaakha at the mention of Sekhar. Kaakha hums, and his look doesn’t feel approving. Raavan clicks his tongue and motions for them to leave.
Cherry makes himself small and walks out with Shatru towards the garage, glancing back at Raavan one more time to watch him chuckle quietly with Kaakha.
When they reach the garage, Shatru rummages for a while in the van, then hands Cherry his bag. Cherry's fingers urgently search the surface of the pack. His palms map soft fabric and his square tablet. He sighs in relief when he feels the small figurine isn't in pieces.
Cherry slings the bag over his shoulder and watches as Shatru reaches into the back of his lungi, pulling out a wad of rupees. The tall man counts out a considerably large amount and hands it over. Cherry recounts the money with wide eyes. It's more than he’d make in a week with the rickshaw. It’s more money than he’s ever seen at one time. Cherry looks at Shatru with a confused expression.
"It pays to be a coolie.” Shatru laughs and walks them both back into the main building.
Shatru leads Cherry through the haveli. He doesn’t say much, but he doesn’t need to. Cherry feels fairly comfortable around Shatru and lets the silence sit between them. He admires the various rooms they pass through, the dark ornate designs, the tall stained glass windows, the expensive-looking decor, and the furniture. Cherry finds the low light comforting and the dark colors a balm. He also isn't surprised to see the many different images and figures of the demon king Raavan and his visage of ten heads. It’s something he will have to get used to.
Shatru and Cherry end up in a long corridor of rooms, about ten in total. Shatru explains they are at the back of the fort, and there are two other corridors identical to this. Cherry begins to realize the haveli is much larger than it looks on the outside.
Shatru uses a key to unlock the first door on the right and lets Cherry inside. The room is fairly small, but not any smaller than his old flat. The bed is nicer, a slightly raised and sturdy cot with a thick mattress pad and new bedding. Cherry sees an external closet and a small table, nice tile flooring, a strong-looking fan, and heavy curtains.
“I cleaned it up a bit, and you have extra blankets in the closet.” Shatru smiles tightly and hands Cherry the key. “Yours now. Keep it clean.” Cherry stares at the key, then glances around to find another door in the room. Shatru watches as Cherry pads over and opens it.
“My own bathroom?!” Cherry’s voice is louder and higher than intended, but the shock is genuine. Shatru scoffs at the sudden reaction and shrugs.
“They all have one. Raavan likes to be thorough.” Cherry doesn’t really understand that explanation, but he doesn’t argue with it. He steps inside and excitedly checks the small space. His voice comes out raspy and high when he sees the full room.
“A tub?! A shower top?!” Cherry points to the showerhead above the tub as though Shatru had never seen one. He gasps quietly at the small toilet and water hose bolted into the floor. The tile is nicer in this room with a large drain in the middle. There's a small mirror with a sink and a little bucket and cup underneath it. He taps his foot against the bucket, promising to never use it.
Cherry beams back at Shatru and blushes, embarrassed at his outburst. He hugs his pack to his chest and moves back into the main room. Shatru rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Don't be too loud. The walls are thin."
With that, Shatru walks out, leaving Cherry alone to unpack the few things he has. He drops his bag on his bed and immediately returns to his bathroom. He lets out a small noise and presses his hands together. He moves to the tub and starts to play with the faucet and hose, troubleshooting how to get it hot or cold.
Cherry sighs happily and runs to the closet looking for towels and soap.
Cherry's deep slumber is interrupted by a loud knock on his door. His soft bed and clean sheets beg him to stay, but he waddles groggily to answer the door, the tile cool under his feet. Memories of his hot bath from earlier offer deep comfort. Soaking for much longer than he should have, he had nearly fallen asleep in the water. So warm and light, it was the perfect precursor to the nap he allowed himself in his new bed.
Cherry finds Shatru at the door and watches his eyebrows shoot up. Cherry realizes he's only in the thin underwear recovered from his pack and tries to cover himself a little with the open door.
"Did you sleep all day?" Shatru laughs. Cherry realizes it's the early evening by the low light in the window. He sways his head and tries to smile, suddenly very thirsty. Shatru tells him to dress and meet him in the hallway. It's time to eat.
The mess hall is bright and alive. There are ten or so men gathered at a long table, eating and sharing multiple dishes. Cherry watches them laugh and joke from behind Shatru's tall frame. Shatru steps aside and pulls Cherry forward to get the men's attention.
"Cherry. In Deva's old room." Shatru offers.
The men go silent and take a moment to scan Cherry as he stands awkwardly, hands in his pockets. A large man tilts his head and squints at the new recruit. The man is heavyset with dark skin and a challenging glint in his eyes. When he speaks, his voice is deep and intimidating.
"This one is so small, Shatru? Where did you find him?" The man laughs, a heavy bellow that makes his silver nose ring rattle. The rest of the men chuckle cautiously.
"Not me. Sekhar." Shatru responds. A few men hum and roll their eyes. Something Cherry doesn't hear is understood between them.
The men move to give Cherry and Shatru a seat and hand Cherry a plate of biryani. His mouth waters at the aroma. He scoops some chutney from a nearby dish and grabs a pan of raita. Cherry eats silently, watching Shatru and the other men continue their conversation, laughing and cracking jokes. Cherry learns the large man's name is Munna, Raavan’s personal guard. The men continue to chatter and joke. Their curiosity and good mood eventually find their way back to Cherry.
“You are the one from last night. Aren’t you?” Munna asks. “The one in the mud?” Cherry swallows a mouthful and sways his head nervously. The men go silent.
“When I heard you pulled Sekhar onto his back, I didn’t believe it! Then I saw his skinny ass limping around Berhampur today like a kicked dog!” The men erupt into laughter, and the tension eases. Cherry lowers his shoulders in relief and tries to smile.
“He’s slow. Doesn’t watch his blind spots.” Cherry explains. The men respond with more laughter.
“And look at you. Fought ten men and just a swollen little nose. Raavan can always see the tough ones.” Munna smiles and winks. The rest of the men hum in agreement. Cherry continues to eat as the men talk, and a small bundle of pride swells in his chest.
When everyone finishes eating, Cherry is given directions back to his room and makes the trip himself, impressed he's able to make it back almost by memory. On the way, he stops to admire an altar at the end of a large hall, an altar clearly dedicated to Raavan, the Demon King. Cherry decides to look closer, only to stop when he sees movement in its shadows. He tucks himself around the corner so he isn't seen. He watches Raavan, the Maharaj, circling the space with a lamp.
Cherry isn't surprised Raavan would hold puja for the King of Lanka, but it's still an unexpected sight to watch him take the ritual so seriously. Cherry listens closely as Raavan goes through a devotional, feeling a warmth in his chest when he hears some words clip and stall. Cherry doesn't feel pity but wonders how strong and feared a man must be to gather so much power and respect despite having something so many might view as a weakness. It's something to admire.
Sudden memories rise of Cherry’s mother’s hands pressing kumkum between his eyes, the smell of dhoop in their small home, and his father's melodic devotionals wafting through the air. He is used to the uncomfortable lift his soul feels at memories of them, but the feeling reminds him that a puja might be too private of a practice for him to spy on. Cherry does his best to leave quietly and hopes Raavan wasn’t disturbed.
When Cherry makes it back to his room and steps inside, he is filled with warmth and light. This is his now, and he decides he wants to keep it. To protect it. Cherry moves further into the room and finds clothing folded neatly on his bed. It isn’t the ruined clothing from the night before but new, identical outfits of high quality. They seem to fit him perfectly, almost as if they were tailored. The outfits are simple. Five pairs of loose twill trousers with an elastic waist, five short-sleeved kurtas, and five pairs of boxer briefs. Cherry wonders how Shatru knew his size so well and tries to remember to thank him in the morning.
He puts his things away, gently placing his cheetah figurine on the small table before undressing for more sleep. Shatru let him know to be up early for work and informed him about a small alarm clock in his closet. He finds it while putting away his new clothes and winds the dial quickly before settling under the bedsheets.
Cherry’s bed is soft and cool in front of the fan, and his pillow is plush against his tired head. A full belly, a big house, and his own bathroom. Maybe living in Lanka isn't as awful as Maa Sita made it out to be.
There is another loud knock on his door, but this time Cherry is already awake, dressed, and ready for the day. Shatru greets him in a hurry. He carries two plastic buckets under his arm and hands one out.
"Are you ready?" Shatru asks, and Cherry follows him.
Shatru leads Cherry around the house with a small laminated slip of paper. The paper details Cherry's daily chores and responsibilities on one side and the monthly tasks on the other. They seem simple enough, but a small voice in his head complains they are too simple. They resemble the job of a maid rather than a rowdy.
Shatru explains that the man who did this work before Cherry had to leave the organization suddenly. Cherry pieced together that it must have been Deva. He wonders if it's common, or even allowed, to leave Lanka suddenly.
"He was to help a friend or doctor? I can't remember for sure." Shatru rushes the explanation, and Cherry doesn't press.
Cherry walks behind Shatru as he continues to rapidly list off instructions and point out areas that need to be cleaned. The tasks seem fairly normal. Scrubbing, sweeping, mopping, changing trash, dusting, and laundry. When they make it to the kitchen, Shatru's voice becomes very serious.
"Raavan's chai. It has to be made for him every morning before his breakfast. Cook only comes for lunch and dinner. His buns are made weekly, but his chai needs to be fresh. It needs to be perfect. He's very particular about it, but I will show you."
Cherry swallows and breathes in. He's a maid and brings tea. It isn't the most embarrassing development he could have thought of, and he knows he has no other options. Perhaps the work here is like rungs on a ladder. The bottom step is chai, and he has to work his way up to a job like Sekhar's. Cherry opens his mouth to ask, but Shatru is already rushing around the kitchen.
"There are two kitchens. You will work in this one." Shatru shows Cherry around the various appliances and spaces that need cleaning before pulling out the mortar and pestle and the masala dabba.
"You know how to grind masala, yes?" Shatru asks. Cherry makes an affirmative sound, and Shatru grins. He lists the ingredients off his fingers just in case and continues to detail Raavan's preferences.
"Only half the milk and only one spoon of jaggery. He likes it strong. The tea is Nilgiri, not Assam." Shatru points to the canister of tea on the counter. "You have to aerate it. He will know if you didn't."
Cherry pays close attention to the instructions and reminds himself to write all of this down when he can find a paper and pen. He's a bit annoyed he wasn't given these instructions on a little lamination if it is so important. Cherry isn't a stranger to making chai or working in a kitchen, but it wasn't expected of him in Thailand or the home. Cherry hopes the few times he had watched his mother boil milk or Jeevi had had him grind masala will suffice.
"You won't need to do this today. He's already having his breakfast, and someone else made his chai, but this will be your responsibility starting tomorrow. It will be the first thing you do and must be done before 7 a.m. He's very sharp on his schedule. You can't be late, yes?"
Cherry makes another sound of affirmation. Shatru sways his head and looks around nervously.
"I think that is all for now. You go through the list, and I will find you for lunch. I need to leave until then. Try not to break anything." With that, Shatru leaves quietly, and Cherry is alone.
Cherry’s chores are actually quite quick and easy to get through. He does remember this about the home. This was the easy part. Laundry duty, cleaning toilets, and dusting tables. He liked those parts of the day. They kept him busy and focused.
Cherry shuffles around the various rooms and buildings, following his small laminated instructions and trying to remember Shatru’s directions. Dragging around tools and buckets is a bit annoying, but he’s sure he will find an easier and quicker way as time passes. Cherry wonders if he can have a small cart to wheel around. He reprimands himself for trying to look more like hotel housekeeping.
Cherry wonders about asking to do work more suited to his abilities. He doesn’t necessarily want to work every job that might require criminal activity, but he can fight, and he is quick on his feet. Surely he could be used better than this. Still, he decides not to complain. It won’t get him anywhere to appear ungrateful, and he truly believes any hard work is good work. It could be worse. He could be back in Thailand, getting screamed at by spoiled rich daughters and money-obsessed travel agents desperate to impress. Cherry’s mood suddenly lifts, remembering he left Sanjana on that boat to rot in the miserable choices she made for herself.
Cherry realizes he’s almost finished after cleaning for a few hours. He stands to wipe his brow and admire his work when he notices a hallway with a steep set of stairs leading to a single door. The door is made of older wood than the rest of the house, and the knob is unpolished. Cherry wasn't given any instructions on this room and should probably just leave it, but curiosity overcomes him. He steps gently down the staircase and grabs at the door handle to give it a jiggle. Locked. Cherry puts his hands on his hips and breathes. A sudden smell hits his nose. It’s not good. Pungent and old, like rotted wood and iron. He decides he doesn’t need to know what’s behind this door and patters back up the stairs quickly.
The rest of the day goes by quickly. Cherry eventually gets his lunch and spends another meal with the men who work close to Raavan. He learns a few things: Raavan is very particular about his routine and schedule. Do not interrupt it. He is firm but fair. Do not argue with him or try to change his mind. He isn’t necessarily against listening to advice from his men, but that isn't Cherry’s job, and he should just keep his head down. Cherry understands and is grateful for the tips. He swallows his food and clears his throat, a question that’s been eating at him bubbling up.
“Why does he speak like that?” Cherry blurts. The room goes quiet, and the men look at each other nervously. Shatru shakes his hand of rice and puts down his plate.
“He was born like that. It's just his speaking. You've never met anyone with a stammer?"
Cherry feels embarrassment and shame creep in and warm his face. He hadn't. His childhood was isolated and strange. He lies and says he has. He was just curious if it was related to anything else. The men accept that and change the subject quickly, uncomfortable with the question. Cherry decides to not bring it up again.
The evening is a blur. Cherry is handed an evening laminate that focuses on outside work. Scheduling sprinklers, small trash cleanup, watering a few plants, and bringing in mail. Cherry doesn't know why it feels so absurd that Raavan gets mail. There isn't much, mostly junk, but he stops when he sees a name addressed on the front of a handwritten envelope in large red loops.
Nidumolu Jai Kumar.
Cherry wonders if it's an alias or perhaps the name of one of the men who live here. Can he get mail addressed here too? He scoffs at that. Who would write to him? His parents are dead, and his uncle is still missing. He suddenly remembers Jeevi and feels guilty for forgetting his only friend.
Cherry slips the mail into a slot Shatru showed him and continues to the mess hall for his dinner. The food is filling, and he has a small glass of toddy with his meal. It warms his belly and makes him sleepy.
Cherry retires to his room with a small pat on his back from Shatru. He can only assume he did a good job cleaning. He sleeps well that night, comforted by a fulfilling day of work and a hearty meal. But anxiety creeps in when he remembers his responsibility for tomorrow.
The chai.
Cherry takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. This can't be too difficult. It's only tea. Cherry glances at his handwritten note again. Only half milk, one spoon of jaggery, and make sure to aerate. He had attempted to look up recipes on his tablet before bed, but they only made him more anxious. Each one had different types of spice blends for the masala. Cherry decides to just stick with what's in the masala dabba, as Shatru never mentioned any ginger or mint.
Cherry measures his spices, crushing them gently in the mortar while the water comes to a boil in a small pot. He adds the tea and spices to the bubbling water and lets it steep for a few minutes before adding the milk and jaggery. He watches the concoction closely, pulling it from the heat every time it foams, then aerating it as it brews. Once he feels it rise at least four times, he pulls it from the heat and aerates it once more. He's proud of his work. It didn't burn, it smells right, and its consistency is thick.
Cherry strains the chai thoroughly using a thin cloth filter and pours it gently into small glass cups. He opts for two servings, just in case Kaakha is with Raavan or they want another glass. He leaves the rest in a steel teapot. Cherry trays the drinks and pot on a platter and carries it gently into the dining room, praying the tray doesn't rattle with his shaking hands.
Raavan sits once again with his back to Cherry, reading a set of documents rather than the news. When Cherry places the tray gently on the table, he stands with his hands together, pulling at his fingers nervously.
Raavan doesn't speak, and Kaakha only smiles in Cherry's direction. When Raavan moves to take a glass, Cherry turns to leave. He takes only a few steps before Raavan's voice rings out.
"Wrong. Come back." Raavan’s voice is firm and loud. Cherry shuffles back to the table and winces. Raavan does not look up from his paper.
"Make it again. Correct this time." Raavan clips. Cherry fumbles over an apology and takes the tray back with him.
When Cherry is safely behind the kitchen doors, he curses and stomps his foot. Did he miss something? Did he forget a spice? He double-checks his little note and tries to remember the online recipes. Was he meant to include ginger and mint after all? Cherry scratches at his scalp and presses his teeth to his tongue. He rinses the pot and dumps the chai. He starts to boil water again, deciding to take it slow this time.
Grind spices. Brew tea. This time with ginger, mint, milk, and jaggery. Aerate. Cherry watches the pot carefully and tries to be gentle. Once again, it smells perfect, and the consistency is good.
Cherry strains, pours, and plates his second attempt. He takes a breath and returns to the dining room once again. This time he can hear the tray rattle but does his best to ignore it. Placing the drinks next to Raavan once more, Cherry waits for approval.
Raavan makes a noise, glances at the glasses, and takes one gently. Cherry holds his breath as Raavan takes a sip. Raavan presses his lips together tightly and drops the glass back on the tray with a loud clunk.
"Were you given any in-in-instructions? Are you grinding the masala fresh?" Raavan's voice has a tint of annoyance, and Cherry bristles.
"Is making chai really that difficult for you?" Ravvan asks, frustrated. Cherry's face flushes, and he feels his blood grow warm. He furrows his brows and clenches his fists.
"Try again, and pay attention this time." Raavan clips. Cherry wants to scoff but holds his tongue. He grips the tray tightly and nearly topples the small glasses. Cherry twists his mouth to stop himself, but the words escape on their own:
"It is difficult, I think, if you need someone else to make it for you." Cherry bites. He regrets it immediately, wilting under Raavan's heated gaze.
"Make it again." Raavan's voice is rough and low, like a growl. Cherry apologizes quietly and moves quickly back to the kitchen.
Cherry slams the tray down in the sink, chai spilling over. He makes a small, frustrated noise and rushes back to his note. What could he be missing? Why won't Raavan just tell him how it's incorrect? Cherry feels helpless and anxious and doesn't know what he needs to do differently. He suddenly feels the urge to steal a truck and drive as far away as possible. Cherry knows this feeling. He knows this type of person. He wonders how he's yet again serving another selfish brat born with a silver spoon in their mouth. It takes considerable control to quell the anger that rises in him. He clutches the edge of the counter until his fingers go pale, then releases a long breath, trying to calm the insistent rage.
Cherry starts to clean up the mess he made to start over when there's a rush of air and the kitchen doors swing open. Cherry freezes as Raavan moves through the small space and grabs at the dabba forcefully, spilling cloves and anise.
Raavan stares at the brass cups nestled inside the dabba and carefully plucks out the cup of cardamom. As he studies it closely, he lets out a long and rough grunt. Raavan looks at Cherry, his expression hard. Cherry only responds with a swallow, unnerved by suddenly being so exposed to a face and body he's only seen the back of the past few days. It infuriates Cherry that his first thought is how attractive Raavan is. His face heats, and he resists the wanton images that flash in his mind.
Raavan says nothing, only moves to the pantry with long strides, rifling through dry stock. When he reemerges, he carries a small spice bag and tosses it on the prep table. Raavan looks at Cherry and bends two fingers to motion for him to come over.
Cherry moves slowly, afraid of the wrath he may have wrought. As he stands next to Raavan, the maharaj’s size and presence take shape. Cherry is nearly as tall as the older man, but when Raavan walks into a room, he takes up all the space. His voice takes all the air. Cherry can only watch as Raavan takes a cardamom pod into the palm of his hand and then takes a larger pod from the new bag and places them together.
“Do you know the difference b-between green and black cardamom?” Raavan asks. Cherry’s face falls and his shoulders rise.
“No.” Cherry whispers. Raavan sighs and clears his throat. He points to the smaller pod.
“Green is more commonly used for chai, but some people, like me, prefer black.” Raavan then points to the darker pod. It looks textured, like wood roasted over fire.
Raavan drops the green pod back into its dish and takes the black pod between two fingers. He moves closer to Cherry, close enough for Cherry to smell the musk of his cologne, the mint of his toothpaste, and the floral notes of his soap. Cherry’s face heats further, and his ears itch. Raavan places the pod gently between his teeth, on the side of his mouth, and presses until it cracks. He pulls it back out and holds it close to Cherry’s face.
“What do you smell?” Raavan asks, his voice low.
Cherry’s eyes cross slightly as he tries to look at the pod directly. Raavan moves slowly to stand behind him as his nostrils flare to take in the scent. Raavan’s arm stays raised as he holds up the pod. Cherry smiles before answering.
“Smoke.” Cherry rasps. He feels the heat from Raavan’s chest on his back, the warmth of his arm brushing his shoulder, and the soft whisper of Raavan’s voice by his ear.
“More often used for food. Rich and savory.” Raavan continues. Cherry’s eyelids start to droop, and he can feel the hot rush of Raavan’s breath on the shell of his ear. “Smoke is right. Menthol and camphor.”
Cherry shudders at the sound the last word makes. He can feel every nerve in his body light up, his skin flushes, and his nipples brush against the thin fabric of his kurta. Cherry feels movement, and Raavan presses his body further forward. A hand rests on Cherry’s hip to move him, and they both push closer to the table.
Raavan drops the pod into the mortar and fills it with the rest of the whole spices from the dabba. With one hand, Raavan reaches for the mortar, and with the other he grabs the pestle, grazing and brushing against Cherry’s body as he moves.
Placing both in front of Cherry, Raavan takes one of Cherry’s hands in his own to wrap around the pestle and one hand to grip the mortar, moving their joined hands together. The feel of Raavan’s fingers over his own sends pulses of light up Cherry’s spine. Cherry realizes Raavan’s hips are keeping a modest distance from his own, and he whimpers quietly at the rush of disappointment he feels. Raavan takes the pestle, nestled in their hands, and brings it down heavily enough to make a noise in the mortar. Cherry lets out a breath as he once again feels Raavan’s voice against his ear.
“Don’t be afraid to be rough with it. You don’t want it too coarse.” Raavan guides Cherry’s hands for a few turns before pulling back his own hands, letting them graze and pull over Cherry’s forearms.
The heat between them is thick. Cherry feels dizzy with arousal at each movement and sensation of touch. He keeps moving, keeps grinding, and Raavan's hands continue to wander. Slowly. Obscene images return to Cherry's mind. Nudity, sweat, and lips. Cherry wants this. His hips want to sway and push back. His palms slip, now damp, and the space between his thighs starts to swell.
"Good. Like that." Raavan's voice is closer. Deep like syrup. Cherry falters in his movements at the touch and the praise. He risks turning his head to get closer to Raavan’s lips, but Raavan suddenly pulls away. It feels like an ice-cold bath. Like a sharp slap back to reality.
"Cook must have refilled it with green. Deva knew to use black. Shatru sh-should have noted it." He clears his throat and approves of ginger and mint before leaving the kitchen in a rush.
Cherry pauses his grinding to take in the moment. His entire body buzzes, and his hair feels filled with static electricity. His cheeks must be a bright color. He can feel it.
Cherry steps back from the table, still holding the mortar and pestle, and looks down at his cock tenting his thin trousers. It stretches the thin fabric and leaves a dark spot at the tip. Cherry takes a deep breath and tries to settle his arousal before he has to leave the kitchen again.
Cherry doesn’t fully comprehend making the chai this time. He rushes through it and tries not to burn it with trembling hands. By the time he brings the tray back out with two new glasses filled, Kaakha has left, and it’s just Raavan reading a letter. Cherry pauses as he spots the torn envelope on the table, with red looping letters on the front. He recognizes the name from before, the same letter. Jai. Cherry watches as Raavan takes a glass of chai and sips. He swallows and hums with approval. He stands, looming over the smaller man, and places the chai back on its tray.
"Thank you, Charan." Raavan doesn't smile, but his eyes do. Cherry makes a small noise at hearing his name and has a quick argument in his head about whether or not to say something. He decides to be bold.
"Cherry. Everyone calls me Cherry." He's embarrassed at how much his voice shakes. Raavan’s eyes glint, and his mouth turns. He leans closer.
"Pandu?" Cherry blushes again. Usually upset at the mention of fruit with his name, Cherry basks in the way the word curls around Raavan’s tongue. He has more sudden and wild thoughts about that tongue and how it curls.
Raavan makes a noise in his throat, stands to leave but stops, turning back on his heel and looping his middle finger under the sleeve of Cherry’s kurta. Cherry shudders. Raavan smiles on one side of his mouth and pulls on the fabric.
“I’m glad they fit.” Raavan pinches the sleeve between his fingers and takes one last glance at Cherry’s flushed expression before turning to leave.
Cherry waits for Raavan to disappear, then breaks out into a sprint, running through the halls at full speed. The sound of his pounding feet echoes off the walls as he shoots through corridors and skirts around corners. Cherry maintains a wild speed until he makes it to his room. He bursts through and slams the door behind him, pressing his back to it. Cherry sinks to the floor, panting hard, and laughing into the empty room.
He's up on his feet quickly and yanks open his closet, revealing the full-length mirror bolted to the inside of the door. He checks his hair, brushing it behind his ears and adjusting where the length kisses his shoulders. He cups his ears suddenly, still able to feel the heat from Raavan's whispers.
Cherry jolts in place and slaps his hands on his hips, twisting each way to check his figure. He turns his back to the mirror and pulls his kurta to cinch it around his waist, accentuating his bottom. He wiggles it slightly and barks out a laugh.
Cherry bites his lip and blushes, hoping the outfit served him well enough and pleased Raavan well enough. Dozens of thoughts race through his head, but all he can settle on is heat and camphor. Then he remembers where he is.
Cherry grabs at his hair and pulls. The chores! He left the kitchen a mess!
Cherry laughs at his ridiculous behavior and darts back out of the room, his hair whipping wildly around a smile.
Chapter 4: Chandrahasa
Summary:
Cherry has to make a choice.
Chapter Text
Cherry moves like water—fluid and deep. The night is dark and starless above him, empty and without light. They are in his bed. Jai is on his back, and Cherry sits above him. He sits like venom, like how snakes move, twisting and turning, chasing the pulse of desire like prey. The feeling is bone-deep, a wet heat that holds him like a vise. Jai is lost. He feels pinned and tethered. His captor, thin and small, shackles him with an inexplicable strength. Cherry smiles down on him, his teeth white against pitch skin and a hollow chasm.
Jai wants to worship him, like a deity filled with wrath and anger, set on forcing poison roots through his throat. Cherry looks ethereal in the shadows. Wet, thin hair veils his eyes, and he pants smoke and ash. Jai pulls at Cherry's hips, his cock sheathed in the other's body, shifting aimlessly to press and stay stuck. Cherry moans, the sound like insects and leaves. He pulls Jai's hand to his chest, cold like crystal.
"You'll burn here too." Cherry’s voice is a hiss, ancient and hostile.
One moment Jai sees darkness, and the next Cherry is silhouetted in flames. They engulf the room and circle the bed. Still, he and Cherry don't move. Jai feels no heat, and they continue to fuck. Cherry speeds up, his body glistening with sweat, reflecting the fire. His eyes become dark windows to new nightmares, flashing with inequity, steeped in sulfur. Jai wonders why he isn't afraid, why he's willing to die for this. He pushes a hand to Cherry's throat, banding and squeezing. When he pulls back, Cherry's flesh burns in the shape of a handprint. Cherry isn't Kali. Cherry is the Yajna.
And with a breath, Cherry is gone. Vanished. Jai is alone. The flames still roar loudly, like growling animals. He is still naked but covered in a thick, viscous layer of petrol, something primordial and familiar. He turns his head and finds himself lying next to himself. The copy is small. It's he when he was young, and there are two. They hold each other, with small naked bodies and smaller hands, both covered in the same cosmic slick. They make no sound, but he can hear them calling.
Jai reaches his hand out. He needs to see his own face. The flames join them on the bed, the fire reaching out like fingers, snares for their souls. Jai pulls on a small shoulder, and the body goes with it. They are not two small boys but one mangled creature. From skull to chest to belly to knees, they fuse into each other, melting skin and bone into one body of viscera. Jai cries out but isn't horrified. He only feels sorrow and heartache. He wants to join them.
Jai wakes screaming. The room is empty, and it's late into the night. Darkness no longer prevails, only blankets the wandering moonlight. Everything is quiet, save for Jai's heavy breathing and rushing blood. His chest aches and burns, his heart branded with scorch marks. He can only get out strangled sounds, thin and high, the noises a child makes, seeking comfort from someone who can protect them. Jai thrusts the sheets off himself, his body tacky with sweat, and collapses to the floor. The tile is cool against his feverish skin, and he embraces it, trying to control the panic that rises against nausea and fear.
He remembers his mantras and his breathing and presses his cheek to the floor. He wants to vomit and swallows bile, the taste, and smell of naraka. His throat screams in pain. Pressed flat, he puts a hand to it. His vocal cords are tight like bowstrings, sharp and made of gut. Jai wills himself not to weep and begs his body not to tremble. They are gone, and he is still here, once the two halves of his heart. He stays there on the floor until flames turn to embers and small hands covered in soot let go.
The wind whips playfully in Cherry's hair. He feels the scratch against his cheek and pushes his hand through it, squinting up at seagulls and dull clouds. He sips his masala soda through a straw in a paper cup and waits for Jeevi to walk back with their gold coin.
It's been nearly a week in the haveli, and Shatru says Saturday is free day. A day for half of the men to rest and leave Lanka while the other half take Sunday. Cherry wonders how strange it is for a ruthless criminal like Jai to give his men days off. He decides not to think too hard about it and just enjoy the time off.
Shatru had met Cherry that morning at breakfast with a smile and a new payment of rupees, a stack at least twice as thick as last time. He had said it's a good day for shopping in town or spending time with family. Cherry had bristled at the latter suggestion but smiled and agreed to join them.
Shatru showed him something else before they left. It was a large closet in the corridor that holds Cherry's room. Inside, the walls were lined with various men's clothing, hung up haphazardly with no organization regarding size or type. Shatru had explained they were lost things, left from men who don’t live there anymore. Cherry had ignored the impulse to ask if those men left or died.
Cherry had picked quickly, with a smile and small gasps. He managed to find quite a few fitting pairs of jeans and tops and even a nice pair of shoes. The prize piece ended up being a soft jacket, stylish and thin enough for the heat. When he met Shatru and the guards in the garage, the men had whooped and laughed at the gaudy cheetah print, but Cherry only smiled, knocking Shatru's shoulder.
"It looks good!" Cherry had argued, then laughed as they jostled him.
He had found Jeevi at the market when they arrived, a little rattled but hungry. Shatru was right. Most of the men took free day to shop in town, including the men who lived in Berhampur. They all met in the bazaar for playful greetings and more teasing. It was awkward at first with Jeevi. His expression was guilty and guarded. Cherry had decided to not let him suffer for it. Cherry’s job was easier with more benefits. It almost felt unfair. Jeevi got the life he fantasized about, slumming it with rowdies in tiny flats and risking his life for a crime lord. Cherry wonders if it was worth it. They browse stands together, not swayed yet to spend money on anything but food.
"You need to get a phone. What if we get separated?" Jeevi scolds Cherry, handing him his food. Cherry is pulled from his memories and sways his head. The jacket was a silly choice. It's too hot today, and so it hangs in a knot around his waist.
"Cellular? I've never had one." Cherry walks toward a vendor with hanging thongs, bags, and scarves, picking at goggles and trying them on.
When Cherry speaks to Jeevi, it’s over the din of Odisha. He had missed the sounds in larger cities. The honks of autos jostling past, the sharp rings of bike bells, even the call to prayer, a melody he once took for granted.
"I got one that first night. It's a brick, but it's something.” Jeevi points to the phone in his pocket, outlined in denim.
“Had to leave my old one. My father paid for it, and he'd use it to find me." Cherry hums against Jeevi’s flippant tone.
They haven't spoken yet about that night in the mud, and Cherry isn't sure he wants to. He turns to flaunt a pair of goggles at Jeevi, pink ones with silver rims and heart-shaped lenses. Jeevi scoffs and waves a hand.
"Stop being funny." Cherry ignores the teasing and pays for the goggles. He hangs them from the collar of his shirt proudly. He has money now.
“We’re both lucky Sekhar has business near the beach. I don’t think he would be happy to see you.” Jeevi offers gently.
It feels like an olive branch, an implication that Cherry’s fight with Sekhar wasn’t upsetting enough to ignore completely. Cherry only shrugs a shoulder and tilts his head. He asks Jeevi how things are on his end, hoping to drop the subject. Jeevi explains it’s a lot of things. Strong-arming dealers, threatening rival gangs, passing up information, and just having a general presence in the neighborhoods. Sekhar reports to Shatru, and Shatru reports to Raavan if it’s important. Cherry tries not to smile at the mention of their Maharaj but takes the shift in the conversation to probe.
“Do you ever hear anything about him? I don’t get much at Lanka.” Cherry tries to feign a neutral attitude. Only curiosity.
“I thought you would know more. You live there!” Jeevi carries an air of pride about him, realizing he knows something Cherry doesn’t.
“He’s a lunatic, Cherry. Verri vyakti. He kills anyone who even disagrees with him.” Cherry’s own memories disagree with the myth. He suppresses a smile at the memory of how Jai responded to his attitude over the chai. Not really something to be afraid of.
“He lives up to his name. The Demon of Lanka.” Jeevi shudders dramatically, shaking his head and shoving on his own goggles. Cherry reads the playfulness and laughs.
“Is that even his real name? Have you heard anything about where he comes from?” Cherry asks, chewing on gold coin. He tries not to sound too invested, searching through nearby clothing on a rack.
“Eh? What kind of mother names their son Raavan?!” Jeevi scoffs. Cherry feels a pang of embarrassment for not considering that.
“It was Kaakha, that old man who's always next to him. Raised him from an orphan. Even as a child, Raavan was a killer! There’s a rumor he killed his parents. His own mother.” Jeevi mumbles the last part. Cherry itches at his arm, swatting an insect, anxious at the thought of it. Jeevi continues to gossip.
“He has no name. He’s always been Raavan.” Then Jeevi pauses, considering. “There’s an old man in my flat. He says he heard Kaakha calling him Jai on a job that went bad. Seems like a strange name for a demon to have.”
Jeevi changes the subject, asking about clothing and shoes and other boring things. Cherry remembers the envelope and red script. Nidumolu Jai Kumar. He smiles to himself and tucks the secret away. Somewhere safe in his chest.
They shop for a while longer. The coastal winds and dark clouds amplify the humidity, making the air swell with moisture. Cherry doesn’t find any clothing he likes but picks up more underwear and dried snacks. He stops at a vendor with electronics and buys a small phone that flips and a prepaid SIM. Cherry watches Jeevi while they walk. He looks tired and worn at the edges. He wonders how much Jeevi isn’t telling him about his new life.
“Did you get a gun?” Cherry asks, deciding to be forward. Jeevi’s eyebrows pinch, and he waits a few beats before answering.
“I haven’t used it yet, but I need it for some of the work.” Jeevi answers him quietly. Cherry doesn’t press.
“Do you like it here? Do you think you want to stay?” Jeevi asks. Cherry scoffs and lowers his gaze, annoyed by the question.
“Where would I go?” Cherry shrugs. “We don’t all have rich fathers.”
Jeevi winces. Cherry regrets it after he says it, but something is starting to become clear. Jeevi drifts through life aimlessly, not worried if he will fall or who he will drag down with him. He pulled Cherry into this dangerous world without thinking, and Cherry isn’t going to waste any energy trying to appease his guilt.
The air around their friendship is changing, and Cherry can’t say it surprises him. He’s starting to learn there are spaces that Cherry fits into better than others, and Jeevi may be an other. The rest of the outing is quiet. A pensive silence fills the space between them. Cherry is relieved when he rejoins Shatru and the rest of the men from Lanka.
Jai spent his Saturday in the basement. After a fitful sleep, he sought a relief that only righteousness could give. Another man connected to the Srinivasa brothers. This one was easier to break. The information wasn't as insightful as he had hoped, but he will let Kaakha decide that. He sleeps better. The new body on the beach is now only an afterthought.
Sunday comes, and Jai finds himself with very little to do. The weekends can be slow and tedious, and he wanders the fort looking for distractions. It's nearly lunch when he decides to head to the main dining hall. The area is empty, but as he steps into the kitchen, he's surprised to find Cherry there, wiping at cabinets on a small ladder.
The young thing nearly jumps out of his skin, flushing and stammering an apology. Jai watches, amused, as Cherry fumbles his way down and pushes his hair out of his eyes.
"Can I get you anything?" Cherry looks around anxiously. Jai ignores the lack of an honorific. He wonders how uncomfortable the stronger titles are for him. Some men are still timid in referencing Raavan, old traditions, and childhood stories. Jai steps closer, endlessly entertained at how easily Cherry can blush around him. It's dangerous, he knows it, but Jai has always preferred the more dangerous paths. Jai thinks, studying Cherry’s form, letting his scent linger close. He watches as Cherry’s eyelashes flutter, and he takes the moment to strike.
"No. Thank you.” Jai turns to leave, proud of his restraint, but stops when he hears Cherry clear his throat. Jai turns again, and Cherry looks apprehensive, a question he isn't sure he should ask. Jai breathes and folds his arms over his chest, waiting.
"Do you think I'm weak?" Cherry fumbles the words a bit but gets the question out. Jai raises a brow and moves closer.
You've seen me fight. I'm strong." Cherry glances at the rag in his hands and tugs on it. "I think I could be more helpful than this."
Cherry looks to the rag again. Jai puts his tongue to his teeth and sucks, taking in a breath.
"Do you think my guards are weak? Shatru? Tapan?" Jai asks. Cherry's face pinches.
"No, but—“
"Working closer to me isn't safe. It's important you aren't co-co-confused on that." Jai lets his voice drop and steps closer.
"I need all my men, especially the ones who live here, to be strong and to know how to fight." Cherry turns his gaze to his feet, embarrassed. The compliment is subtle, but he takes it.
"It's slow right now, but your responsibilities will sh-shift when it isn’t. You understand?" Cherry sways his head quickly, his mood warming. Jai considers ending it at that, but his own impulsive curiosity gets the best of him.
“Cherry?” Jai asks. Cherry’s smaller body shifts and perks, thinking he’s being called. Jai tries not to smile and clarifies.
“The nickname. Why Cherry?” Another blush at Jai's question, clearly not used to having so much attention on him. Jai files that for later. Cherry shrugs.
“It matches my name. Ch-aran.” Cherry pauses, looking apprehensive again. “And cherries are sweet.”
Jai smiles when Cherry emphasizes the last word, clearly aiming for flirtatious. He finds the failed endearment attractive. He lets out a breath, short like a laugh.
“But they aren’t.” Jai counters. “They're tart. Sour and pitted."
Jai lets his eyes trail up and down Cherry's body, studying, lingering with heat.
"It fits. People make that mi-mistake about you too.” Jai clarifies and moves closer. Cherry watches him through long lashes against colored cheeks.
"Do you like that kind of taste?” Cherry asks. Jai only hums, his eyes warm and soft. Cherry's eyebrows draw together, and he looks down to pull on his rag.
"What if your men find out?" Cherry whispers it like a secret. Jai is impressed by the anxious euphemism. He leans in, his lips touching Cherry's ear.
"I don't keep secrets.” Jai lets it linger, parts his lips further, and considers pressing his mouth to Cherry's neck. It’s a wild moment for him, fueled entirely by impulse and Cherry's soft smell, cedar and rice, a gajra of white jasmine against his nape.
Cherry’s breath comes out heavy and wanton. He’s terrible at concealing his desires, and his body sways forward for touch, for taste. Jai wants to encourage the pull, wants to suck marks into Cherry’s neck, and bite. He pulls away with a jolt, the sudden sound of the kitchen doors pushing open interrupting them.
“Strong-arming low-level men until there are none left isn’t going to work for you. I hope you know that!” Kaakha looks exasperated and angry. Well, angry with conviction, not vengeance. Jai sighs and turns to the older man. Cherry wilts behind him, trying to ease the swell of his body. Kaakha looks tired and worn and carries a small dabba with him. He scrunches his nose at Jai, then redirects his attention to Cherry.
“You! Abbayi!” Cherry freezes. "Have you had lunch?”
Kaakha keeps his stern look but points his tiffin in Cherry’s direction.
“My sister made too much idli." Kaakha pushes the tin onto the table, and Cherry reaches for it greedily.
Wiggling himself onto a stool at the kitchen island, Cherry peels off the lid to dig in, thankful that it's insulated and warm. He eats happily, distracted from the conversation unfolding next to him. Kaakha returns his attention to Jai with a frustrated expression.
"That man knew nothing. The man before only had a name. These men don’t respond to strength, you know that. They trade in information. It’s too valuable to them.” Kaakha lets out a frustrated sigh, trying to think. Jai watches his mind turn.
“If you really want this. It won’t come down to a fight. You need to break their operation from inside. Their clients are only clients at the promise of anonymity. That requires trust.” Kaakha looks assured, but Jai doesn't let it go.
“We send in one of our o-o-own.” Jai suggests. Kaahka scoffs.
“Would that even be worth it? It could be years. And with you offering your support to Sarkar's candidacy, we have even fewer men to spare." Kaakha takes a final breath and steadies his voice.
"I think we need to drop this, Raavan. Bringing them down requires an understanding of how they run their operation. We don't have the resources."
"You could ask." Cherry's voice peeks out between mouthfuls of spongy cake, soaked in sambar. The two men turn to him with raised eyebrows, almost forgetting he was in the room.
"Lie. Tell them you want to do business. You’re Raavan. They'll know the name. Then ask them how it works." Cherry continues to eat, more interested in his meal.
Kaakha makes a noise, tugs on Jai's arm once, and walks toward the exit. Jai follows but turns to wink at Cherry, who beams in response. Kaakha waits for the doors to shut before speaking.
“That's very fucking dangerous." Kaakha's voice is serious and low. He grips Jai's arm tightly. Jai swallows to hide the roll of his eyes.
“Everything I do is—“ Jai pauses to imitate Kaakha. “—very fucking dangerous." Jai is getting impatient, wanting to end this conversation and work out a plan, but Kaakha stands his ground.
"You are our leader. You cultivate control and inspire us, but you also have a responsibility to your men. I taught you that! This will lead us nowhere and put the boys who trust you in unnecessary danger!" They're both becoming more and more frustrated. Jai doesn't like disagreeing with Kaakha. It's unnerving.
"We aren't a union or a party! We sell stolen we-we-weapons, help unpopular men win elections, and slit the throats of m-men who rape children. That isn't unnecessary.” The last word is a hiss. A warning from Jai to drop it.
Jai doesn't give Kaakha room to respond. He turns and leaves in long strides, bursting back into the kitchen. His blood boils and his skin crawls. He needs to get rid of this feeling. He finds Cherry at the sink, soapy hands gripping Kaakha’s dabba. He walks over and grabs it, slamming it into the sink.
“Don’t. He can wash it himself.” Jai’s voice is rough. It sounds angry but isn’t pointed at Cherry.
He moves to stand behind Cherry and fits his arms around him. He grabs at the bar of soap and tugs on Cherry’s hands, washing them roughly, scrubbing at chutney stains. Jai presses himself close, his head nearly touching Cherry’s, finding comfort again in his smell, willing his racing heart to slow. Cherry is still processing everything, not exactly sure what’s happening but letting it unfold.
Jai guides Cherry’s hands under the running faucet to rinse them. As he does, he softens, his hands cupping Cherry’s gently. Wet fingers slide together and build a soothing sensation. Cherry’s hands are smaller and square but covered in rough calluses. Jai savors the feeling of them.
“You went into town yesterday.” Jai’s voice is soft in Cherry’s ear. “You spent time with your friend.”
Jai continues to gently rub at Cherry’s hands, clearing away non-existent soap. Feeling the lines of his nail beds, the crease in his palm, and the texture of the prints at the tips of his fingers. Cherry only breathes, his eyes closed and face flushed.
“If you meet a man in the city. Don’t bring him ba-back here. I won’t like it.” Jai’s words are firm but not a threat. Cherry shudders at them and leans back into the embrace.
Jai feels that familiar pulse of desire again, crawling sticky up his thighs. He indulges this time and grazes a kiss across Cherry’s neck. His lips are only a quick brush, quiet and textured from his rough mustache. It lingers only for a moment, dry with no pressure, and then it’s gone. Cherry feels the space open around him and grips the edge of the sink with slippery fingers. When he looks around, Jai is gone.
It’s late in the evening when Cherry is on his last task. Trash. He drags two large bags of rubbish out to the back of the haveli, where they keep the larger bins. He thankfully only has to do this once, on the weekend.
He considered the moment he had today with Jai. He should be elated, passionate, and full of desire, but it's starting to confuse him. The signals are chaotic and feel vaguely belittling. He doesn't want to be anyone's toy, but he also wonders if anyone would want him as anything else.
Cherry is afraid of being hurt again, afraid this is just another entitled lover stringing him along. Another Sanjana. He doesn’t know much about the maharaj, but he does remember his secret. Nidumolu Jai Kumar. He feels a moment of softness at the name. Jai. He decides it fits perfectly, despite Jeevi's comment. Victory and triumph. It fits perfectly.
Cherry is lost in thought as he starts to lift the bags into the larger bins. He doesn't see the hand that comes out to help him until it's pushing bags over the lip. Cherry turns to thank the stranger when he’s jolted back at the sight of Sekhar, smiling and chewing on gutka. Cherry’s expression hardens, and he steps back, clenching his fists.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. No, no. We are friends. It’s okay.” Sekhar laughs ruefully. He tries to pinch Cherry’s cheek, but Cherry knocks away his hand.
“Hey, hey. You are the lucky one. Live here in the big mansion. Look at me, stupid coolie in the mud, huh?” Sekhar spits to his left. Cherry can see a rotted tooth and smell pepper from the betel.
“You happy here? They are like you. Rutting pigs.” Sekhar sneers and reaches a hand out. He tries to pull on the end of a loose strand of Cherry’s hair. Cherry flinches, his eyes inflamed.
“Are you their little piglet?” Sekhar barks a laugh, projecting the sour smell of his breath. Cherry looks down to the dirt, unwilling to engage, and tries to focus on calming the anger boiling in his blood.
Memories filter through his mind, muddling the distraction. Cherry remembers where he comes from. He was a child when his parents were attacked, and his uncle convinced him to confess to a murder to save his mother. It’s a story he’d heard before. Kids being paid by wealthy parents to confess to their children’s crimes. Cherry was young and afraid. His sacrifice, while noble, left him to rot in a children’s prison. That part of his childhood resurges through him. He remembers surviving violence and squalor, his pleas being ignored by the adults tasked with protecting him. He remembers being alone, accepting that he will have to protect himself. Cherry remembers learning how to fight.
Before Sekhar can open his mouth again, a hand comes out and grips him by the neck. Shatru yanks him into a hold, shaking his shoulders playfully. He has at least 6 inches of height on him and uses it. The embrace looks rough and tight. Shatru’s smile comes off rigid and forced.
“Making friends, Sekhar? When we are already late?” Shatru shoves Sekhar away from them.
Sekhar stumbles but turns around to give a mock namaste and laughs again, spitting the rest of his gutka at Cherry’s feet. Shatru walks ahead of him, turning only once to glance at Cherry with a strange look.
Sekhar calls out one last insult. "Don't get to-to-to-to comfortable!" He laughs wildly, making it evident his mock stutter imitates Jai. Cherry's blood turns molten. Every nerve ending under his skin screams. He isn't sure he's ever known this kind of rage.
When Sekhar finally turns his back, Cherry makes a decision. He strides forward quickly, reaches out, and yanks at the collar of Sekhar's shirt. He does so at an angle that brings Sekhar to face the large rubbish bin. The moment Sekhar tries to find his footing, Cherry puts all his weight into a push, shoving Sekhar towards the large metal bin. Sekhar breaks the fall with his face, and when he pulls back, blood gushes from his nose.
Cherry can hear pathetic wailing and Shatru’s angry voice, but he turns on his heel and walks back into Lanka. Whatever consequences that may result, he won't face them here. He doesn't work for Sekhar, and he doesn't work for Shatru.
He works for Raavan.
As Cherry disappears, Jai watches through a window from the haveli, his dark face reflected in the colored glass of Raavan’s visage.
Cherry doesn’t see Jai outside of breakfast for another two days. He spends his time working, cleaning thoroughly, and building a reliable system. He gets through his little laminates quickly now. He’s pleased to have the extra time to himself and to eat with the men who live there, but it can still be lonely. He realizes he misses meeting new people as an auto driver, even if he ended up bored or mind-numbingly annoyed. It was something to engage with, something to look forward to. Shatru is kind and funny but just as busy as Jai. Cherry hears nothing about the altercation with Sekhar from either of them, as though nothing ever happened.
There are also other unspoken questions. The moments he and Jai have had together were so charged but still somehow not certain enough to make any movement forward. It borders on frustrating. To be given so much attention and then have it taken away. His work turns aggressive, scrubbing and sweeping with a frenzied energy he hopes to wring out.
Jai meets him one day after his chores, in the main hall. The sun sits low in the sky, tinting the colored glass of the tall windows a deep orange and red. Cherry wipes at his damp brow and looks up to see Jai standing at the end of the hall, a small box in his hand. The box is made of dark wood, held closed by a metal clasp. He stands near a tall table, decorated with lamps and flowers and other objects required for a puja. Jai places the box on the table and motions for Cherry to join him. Cherry walks over timidly, placing his cleaning supplies on the floor. The box is bland and undecorated but sleek. Jai pushes it with his palm toward Cherry and clears his throat.
“I think you’ve earned this.” Jai says. He watches the box patiently, eventually shifting his gaze to Cherry’s eyes.
Cherry studies the box and looks to Jai before lifting the clasp. Inside the box is soft foam padding, holding a small 9mm pistol. It looks new. Cherry’s expression is soft but guarded. He isn’t sure how to accept such a gift, but he knows it means something. It means something to Jai, and that means something to him. He moves to touch it, to graze his fingers over it, but Jai stops him, a gentle hand on his wrist.
“You’ll meet with Shatru tomorrow after br-br-breakfast and learn how to use it first. Learn to clean it and how to keep it.” Jai offers this softly. Not an order, but an instruction. Cherry tilts his head and closes the lid. He wants to thank Jai but isn’t sure how to word it. He isn’t sure if this is the kind of gift you do thank someone for. Jai speaks for him.
“I do not think you are weak.” Cherry’s eyes widen, clearing in the dim light of the room. The sunset reflects the energy that passes through them, saturated with promise. Cherry looks at the hand that rests on the box, then looks back to Jai.
“Thank you.”
The most difficult moment of Cherry's week comes the following day, early in the morning, before he's expected to be up. He hears a small crack at his window and then another. His room sits on the second floor of the building, and his window shouldn't be cracking. When he crawls out of bed to investigate, he watches small pebbles bounce against the glass and drop. He opens the window to look out and finds Jeevi below him, another handful of pebbles aimed at the ready.
"Finally! I've been throwing these for 20 minutes!" Jeevi complains. Cherry rolls his eyes.
"How did you know which window was mine?" Cherry whispers loudly.
"I saw you one night, passing through for a job. You got to close your curtains at night, yedava!” Jeevi yell-whispers back.
Cherry huffs and closes the window, throwing on some clothes to run through the building and outside. The morning is cold, and Cherry shivers, his thongs crunching over pebbles and wet grass. When he reaches Jeevi, he freezes. Jeevi has a bike with him and a bag strapped to the back.
"What are you doing?!" Cherry still tries to keep his voice quiet. The guards at the door won't bother them, but he doesn't want to wake anyone.
"I'm leaving.” Jeevi swallows. "You should come with me."
Cherry looks at Jeevi like he's mad. Like he’s completely lost his mind.
"You're crazy! You wanted this! You brought me here!" Cherry’s voice rises, anger and resentment lacing each word.
"I know! I was wrong. This place is awful, Cherry. You don't know half of what goes on! You don't know what I've had to—“ Jeevi stops and lets out a shaky breath. "I can't do it anymore. I have to go, Cherry. Please come with me.” Jeevi pleads. He looks sad, tired, and alone.
"I'll marry that girl. I don't care anymore. I'll use her dowry to get you an auto, I promise!" Jeevi is begging now, his eyes wild and terrified.
Cherry puts his hands in his hair and tugs, pacing around the bike. He's sick of it, sick of being pulled around by all the people in his life, sick of being told what he can or can't do or what he is. It's exhausting and infuriating, and he doesn't want it anymore. He stops, turns to Jeevi, and opens his mouth. Jeevi's face falls, his gaze directed over Cherry's shoulder. When Cherry turns, he sees Jai, standing on the staircase, hair ruffled from sleep, dressed in long, warm clothing, and speaking to a guard, the morning paper in his hand. When Jai sees Cherry, his expression changes. It pinches at first, his hand squeezing and lifting. Jai looks at Jeevi, then the bike, then the bag, then relaxes. A pulse passes. His eyes are soft as he takes one last look at Cherry and turns to walk back inside.
"He's going to kill us!" Jeevi hisses and starts rifling through his bag. "Forget your stuff. Just wear something of mine and get on the bike!"
Cherry wraps his arms around himself tighter and turns back to Jeevi, exhausted.
"No." Cherry says gently, hoping he won't have to repeat himself. Jeevi pauses as he mounts the bike, sitting heavily in defeat.
"I think I belong here." Cherry confesses.
Jeevi looks at him with an expression of anger and sadness. “How, Cherry?! Nobody belongs here!"
"I'm not afraid of him." Cherry responds. Jeevi's face contorts. He opens his mouth and then closes it. He kicks the engine, shoves a helmet over his curls, and whips dust and pebbles against Cherry's skin as he peels out.
When Cherry brings Jai his chai that morning, they don't speak.
Cherry couldn't sleep. The whirlwind of events from the past week kept him awake. Coupled with the confrontation with Jeevi that morning, he couldn’t quiet his mind.
Cherry feels something desperate crawling under his skin, like insects or leaves. This is something bigger than what he felt with Sanjana, something he doesn't know where to place. He constantly aches to see Jai, to touch him, and to ask him thousands of questions. Just to hear his voice respond. So now he is here, standing at the foot of Jai's bed, in the pitch black of midnight, watching him sleep.
He knows he should leave. A voice tells him how wrong this is, how dangerous. But the ache to see him was too strong. Surely Jai would understand. Cherry needs this. He needs to know that Jai is safe, alive, and here with him. Cherry tries to breathe quietly, his hands flex at his sides, and his heart races wildly. Perhaps he could get closer. Perhaps he could only touch Jai. Make sure he's still breathing.
Cherry watches Jai in awe, his strong body silhouetted in dark sheets, soft lips relaxed against a beautiful face. Jai’s hair is mussed in his slumber, sweet and inviting. Even the silver rings in his ears look soft and delicate. Cherry can see Jai sleeps naked, his chest rising, soft and firm, and covered in dense hair. He takes a few steps closer and further admires how handsome Jai is. How much space his body takes on the bed, wide and strong. Cherry can even see in the low light how his cock outlines the sheet, long and thick. He wants to see it, to know what it tastes like.
Cherry’s infatuation takes hold, and he reaches out a hand, not even sure what he's reaching for. He screeches and flinches as Jai bolts up and grabs at the offered arm. Jai yanks Cherry towards him, flipping them both over and pinning Cherry onto the mattress. Jai's body is a heavy weight. Cherry lies under him, breathless. He makes a noise, but it isn't loud. Cherry’s hands reach out again, but Jai pins his wrists. Jai's eyes are wild, either ripped from a dream or not quite sure who he has captive. When recognition finally flashes across his face, he grunts in annoyance.
Jai pulls off of Cherry's body and stands over him. Cherry was right. Jai does sleep naked. Arousal floods Cherry’s body and concentrates between his thighs. Jai stands for a moment and turns his head, listening for voices or footsteps of his guards who might have been alerted. He doesn't know if he's relieved to hear silence or disappointed.
It takes Cherry a moment to see Jai in the low light, but his eyes adjust, and he can make out the shape of Jai's cock, hanging heavy and fat between his legs. Cherry was wrong in his assumption of size. Jai isn't impressively long or thick. He's hard, he's swollen, and he juts out. Cherry's body trembles. He fits his fingers under the band of his boxers and rubs, letting his thighs fall open, trying to be inviting.
Jai turns back to Cherry. His expression seems to sour further. He grabs at one of Cherry's ankles and yanks. Cherry slips forward and tries to catch himself on Jai's thighs. Jai fits a hand under Cherry's arm and lifts, transferring the weight to a hand on his nape. He drags Cherry through the room, ignoring the small, terrified sounds, and flings open his door to shove Cherry through. Cherry yelps but keeps his balance. When he looks back at Jai, strong and tall. Flushed with exertion. He sees the anger leave Jai’s face, and a flash of desire surface. He sees something soft.
"Go to bed." Jai whispers, then slams his door.
Cherry stares at the wooden frame for a moment. Unsure how to feel, unsure what this means, then breaks into a sprint through the hall. He runs at full speed through the haveli, letting his feet pound loudly against the wood flooring, twisting and turning through hallways, nearly tripping multiple times. He reaches his room and enters loudly, slamming his own door open and closed. When he's inside, he rushes into his bathroom, hopping out of his briefs on the way in.
Cherry grabs at a small tube on the sink and drops to a squat in front of the toilet, flush against the floor, his feet flat on the tile. He covers his palm in slick and grabs eagerly at his cock, already flush, thick, and sensitive. He muffles a cry at the contact, a thousand images flashing through his mind. Jai, wet in the rain, Jai's hands on his, circling the pestle, Jai's chest against his back as he scrubs his hands and presses his lips to his neck. Cherry pulls on himself frantically, sounds crawling from his throat like a wild animal, slick wet noises in the empty room.
Cherry’s fantasies persist. Jai's cock, hard and leaking. Jai's head between his legs. Jai on top of him, under him, and behind him. Cherry's hips start to pump, and he pants. He begins to moan and cry out as the sensations start to crest. Cherry cums at the image of Jai's mouth on his, his tongue pushing past his lips, wet and warm, his hand on Cherry's neck. He wails and pulls, and his orgasm rushes through him like a river. His voice is high and reedy as he aims his cum at the open toilet.
Jai lies in his bed, eyes squeezed shut, breathing through the sudden panic, begging his cock to soften.
Chapter 5: Purāṇamu
Summary:
Jai and Cherry learn a little bit more about each other.
Chapter Text
Jai rubs at the back of his neck and sighs. His body aches, and his throat feels tight. He hasn't had much sleep the past few days, and he's exhausted. The night he found Cherry in his room is something that won't leave his mind. He knows he should be concerned. It's the kind of behavior any well-adjusted man would be concerned about, but Jai has always walked a thin line between adjustments. More than that, Jai has to admit to himself that he wanted Cherry in his room. He wants Cherry in his room.
That night was overwhelming for Jai. The wild elation he felt surprised him. It wasn’t just the sexuality and surprise but the naive bravery of Cherry being so foolish and brazen to do something like that, just to see Jai. It makes Jai flush and go wild with want. It's something he's tried to ignore, despite his impulsive behavior, despite his dreams and fantasies. Jai knows getting close to Cherry won’t just be about sex. It will come with a dozen other complications that Jai can’t afford right now.
Cherry is beautiful. Jai thinks of him as his hand fits around his neck, willing his vocal cords to soften. He's beautiful and soft and terrible to look at. Jai can see Cherry’s dark eyes, framed in long lashes and sharp brows. The slope of his short nose and the soft flat lips that color when he bites them. Cherry's skin, the smell and taste of it, and the tone, deep and rich. He wonders if there are marks on his shoulders or thighs, light lines from stretched skin, jagged like the print of an animal. Jai wants to lay Cherry out on the beach, against the light sand where he will glow, kiss every inch, and sing Shiv Tandav.
Jai shakes himself out of the fantasy, returning to his more complicated reality. He has to maintain some semblance of control. Fucking a man who works for him won't help with that. Kaakha would advise Jai to drive Cherry out to the city and leave him there. He might be right. Jai already has too much to take responsibility for. The campaign, the Srinivasa brothers, the existing clients he needs to keep happy, and his entire organization. Jai feels that with Cherry added, the exhaustion weighs heavier. The allure of release is even stronger.
It's impossible to ignore the unwavering chemistry between them, the electric pull. Jai has had a fairly average number of lovers in his life, but never for very long and not for a few years. The older he gets, the less embarrassing it is to admit. He used to spend a night or two every month in town, with casual encounters or repeat partners, but as his name grew in notoriety, it became more complicated. Men would either be too infatuated and then suddenly disillusioned or immediately afraid. These past two years have been busy, giving Jai fewer opportunities for any coupling. He stuck to the ways he could relieve himself, and so far it's been enough. That is until now. Now he's mythos, a demon awakened and starving. Full of need and want and impulse. He resists slotting between Cherry's thighs every night.
It's foolish, really. Jasi knows enough to know that Cherry wants him, but not how Cherry feels about it, or even his preferences. The younger man’s experiences might be limited. Would Cherry even want Jai to take him? Has he ever been touched there? Has he thought of it? Has he ever touched a man himself? The thoughts are a constant torture. They start as warnings to dissuade Jai’s impulses but eventually devolve into obsessive fixations. They are questions only Cherry can answer. But crossing that line is dangerous.
Jai's voice replays in his mind.
"Everything I do is dangerous."
Cherry presses two fingers to his bottom lip. The pads pull gently, revealing a small bottom tooth and tongue. His eyes don't fix on anything specific in the room but wander, lidded, thoughts of that night swimming through his mind. The strong, solid shape of Jai's body, the soft blanket of hair that covers it. The jut and shape of his cock, his smell amplified as he moved, alert and in control. Cherry remembers the warmth and weight over him, the strength of his arms that pulled and pinned him, and the thick mass of his thighs as Cherry tried to balance himself. Cherry doesn't fixate on being thrown out. That part is only an afterthought in the fantasy. He remembers what’s important. Jai.
Cherry shudders and swallows, his eyes adjusting back to the moment. He's in this kitchen again, like every morning, and his thoughts are interrupted by the hiss of steam and the smell of cloves. Cherry quickly pulls the pot off the burner, shutting off the gas, forgetting himself and nearly burning the chai again. He wills his body to calm, to at least present himself as composed before he serves Jai. His Maharaj, Raavan, his lover. A finger returns to Cherry's lip, and he blushes at the thought, a soft smile blooming.
Cherry carries his tray with him to the dining room, nudging the doors open with his hip. It's been a few mornings now since that night, and Jai has behaved very reserved around him. He hasn't mentioned it either. A part of Cherry understands how difficult and loud his affections can be. There’s always an adjustment period. There is also Kaakha, who watches Jai so closely now that it makes Cherry anxious. He finds both men with their breakfast, eating in silence as Jai reads.
Cherry smiles at them both. Kaakha only sways his head kindly, distracted by his meal, but Jai's gaze lingers. Cherry curls and basks in it. The look Jai sends him is warm and full. His eyes look unshielded, open to an engagement that surpasses Maharaj and maid. Cherry wants to let him look, let him see everything. Unveil the wildness underneath a placid uniform. When Cherry turns to leave, he feels a palm on his sleeve. Jai stops him.
"Let me see your laminate." Jai asks softly. Cherry warms under the attention. He obliges, slipping the card from the front pocket of his smock. He has a smock now, something he picked up on his second visit to the closet, perhaps left behind by a maid. Cherry likes the extra pockets. He hands it over to Jai and watches as Jai adjusts his glasses and studies it. After a pulse, Jai points to the list.
"Only laundry today. The rest you can skip. When you fi-hi-hi-nish, meet me in the front hall. In an hour?" Cherry tries not to look excited and just sways his head, taking the laminate back.
Laundry is a dream, a quick and wild practice in muscle memory. Cherry's thoughts race through it. He remembers the last time Jai met him in the hall, his gift, and the important moment between them. Cherry hasn't had much practice with Shatru, and he hopes this isn't going to be a review on what he's learned. Cherry finishes folding, hanging, and preparing tomorrow's load before leaving the laundry room in a rush. He spends a moment or two in his room, frantically trying to decide if he should change, fixing and tucking his hair, wondering if he needs it cut. Does Jai prefer it short or long? How could he find out? Cherry eventually settles on keeping his uniform but folding his smock into the caddy he uses for his cleaning supplies and changing his top. He picks a lighter kurta he found in the closet. It’s nearly identical to his uniform, but the color is softer and more intimate. Cherry knows how much Jai values more traditional wear and reminds himself to pick up lungies the next time he's at the bazaar.
Cherry meets Jai in the hall in a rush, upset that Jai is already there waiting for him. He smooths his clothing and tucks his hair behind his ear, hoping his new gold earrings aren't hidden. Jai offers him a small smile, just a tilt of his lip, and turns, inviting Cherry to follow him. They walk through large halls and open rooms, most of which Cherry is familiar with. Soon they are at the center of the haveli, a place Cherry hasn't been shown yet. Jai takes him to face two large double doors made of heavy wood. They are engraved with beautiful, intricate carvings that Cherry recognizes from The Ramayana. Jai takes out an old skeleton key made of iron and slots it into the lock. The doors creak and moan as they're pushed open. Cherry gasps as light fills the room, revealing what's inside.
"A theater!" Cherry says with awe.
Jai lifts an eyebrow at the outburst but softens as a pleased feeling swells in his chest. The room is large and open with a small wooden stage near the end. The walls are lined with costumes, armor, masks, and hanging mirrors. There are tables and shelves with various jewels, pearls, and Mukut crowns. All of it glowing in the colored light that streams in through tall stained glass windows.
"Are they gold?" Cherry whispers and lets his fingers graze over the glittering headwear. He realizes his voice carries far in the large hall.
Jai hums in the affirmative. "It makes them he-heavy."
Cherry's face breaks into a bright smile. Jai sees the small gaps in his teeth and the short canine on the left. The endearment of it makes it difficult to manage his expression. Cherry leaves the crowns, showing them reverence. He continues through the room, touching the fine fabrics of expensive clothing. He stops at a velvet cloak and presses the material between two fingers, making a light noise. Jai reaches his hand out and places it over Cherry's, examining the fabric with him, letting his thumb cover and caress Cherry’s skin. Cherry looks at him with gratitude in his eyes, like it's a gift.
"Do you like this one?" Jai asks, amused. Cherry only smiles.
"It's real velvet. Expensive and ho-hot. Too heavy for Bharat." Cherry shrugs a shoulder and moves to touch other items.
"I don't think I've ever owned anything as nice as these things. They're pretty." Jai hesitates at Cherry's confession, but something deeper pushes him.
"Poverty gives us perspective. It makes you foolish to have everything handed to you." Cherry scoffs at the statement and circles the clothing, coming to face Jai with a rack of sarees and kurtas between them.
"I didn't want everything. I just wanted enough to live. To be with my mother.” Cherry pauses and puts his chin on a rack. He remembers watching his mother die, being sent to the children’s prison, and being alone.
“You know that, don’t you? You know everything about your men." Cherry smiles. It's small but permissive.
"It's crucial I know where my men co-come from for things to run well." Jai wets his lips, a hand reaching to pull on a loose thread from one of the more expensive costumes.
"You can tell me yourself if you like." Jai offers. Cherry barks a laugh and leans back, gripping the rack and swaying.
"I killed a school friend." Cherry looks away from Jai, his hand playing with the shoulder seams on various tops.
"Why?"
"I wanted what he had." Cherry shrugs, glancing up from under his eyelids, shy and awkward.
"What?" Jai whispers.
“A home.” Cherry sounds sad when he says it. "My parents were dead. I wanted him to go away so I could take his place."
Cherry leans one elbow on the rack, his hand pushing against his cheek, distorting his face, forcing a pout, and twisting his smile. Jai looks down to find a crumpled nest of blue thread clutched in his hand. Pulled absently against his facade of command. Jai drops the bundle against the clothing and sighs.
"So we are both orphans.” Jai leans his arm on the rack and tries to smile. "I guess you do belong here." Cherry tries to keep his composure. He knows it isn't appropriate to blush but can’t resist how Jai makes him feel.
"Most of my men are co-convicts. I've just never been caught.” Jai smirks, and Cherry laughs again. They both find these twisted similarities comforting.
“I worked in Thailand after the home. Even there I felt strange. The woman I worked for was a task. A rich brat who reminded me I’m—” Cherry pauses and swallows, embarrassed with his insistent vulnerability.
"Sometimes it feels like I'm doing everything wrong. Like I don't know how to live out here." Cherry's brows pinch. "I wasn't a real teenager. I didn't go out with friends to films or chase girls. I haven't even—“ Cherry stops. A strange expression crosses his face. He tilts his head and looks away. Jai follows his eyes, asking him to continue.
"I haven't kissed anyone yet." Cherry shifts and tugs at the collar of his kurta, trying to keep himself composed, feeling a mix of shame, anxiety, and elation at telling such a secret.
Jai smiles, his mustache stretching. "You would have had to wait for a wife." Cherry scrunches his nose.
"I don't think it's always like that. I don't think all teenagers wait." Cherry offers.
"I suppose I'm the wrong person to ask." Jai admits. "I wasn't ch-ha-hasing girls." Jai smiles, showing the points of his teeth. Cherry's face finally colors, and his mouth parts.
"Never?" Cherry asks. Jai shrugs.
"Never. Only men." Jai isn't afraid to speak it. Cherry's eyes go bright.
"I like them. Girls are soft and smell good." Cherry feels foolish when he says it, given his behavior this week. He has a sudden irrational fear Jai will think he's lying about either attraction. Jai doesn't speak. He moves around the rack between them and comes closer to Cherry. Cherry leans into the space, wanting to feel Jai's body heat. His ears flush as Jai lowers his voice to speak.
"Do I not smell good too?" Jai takes the moment to lean in further and press his nose to Cherry's ear, his lips open at a feather's touch against skin. When Jai speaks, his voice is low and rough. Cherry can feel it vibrate against him.
"I like yours. Like a wildflower." Jai whispers.
Cherry tilts his head, exposing his neck further, and lets his eyes slip closed. He flares his nostrils, taking in the scent. He licks his lips, realizing they smell different when they are together, parts of themselves intertwining invisibly in the air. Like mist and pollen.
"You smell good." Cherry breathes.
A deep rumble vibrates in Jai's chest, amused at how easily Cherry melts and how sensitive he is to any touch or attention Jai gives him. Jai pushes it further this time, rewarding Cherry for the conversation. He presses his lips firmly against Cherry's neck, lets them part, and pushes his tongue gently against skin, kissing long and wet against his pulse. Jai has a hand on Cherry's hip and one on his back, keeping him still. Cherry makes a noise, stuttered and full of need. His hand comes out to grab Jai's neck, fingers flexing and squeezing along short bristled hair and warm muscle. Jai smiles against Cherry’s neck and continues to kiss and mouth close to his ear, eventually sucking a kiss to his earlobe.
Cherry tries to keep his footing, but his knees wobble, and he grips Jai's shoulders, mouth agape, pink tongue showing. Jai moves them suddenly and presses Cherry against the clothing rack. Cherry hears the clink of metal and plastic and feels the pointed hangers push against his back. He tries to turn them to make Jai face him, and when he does, Jai's eyes are glassy and his mouth is red. Cherry leans in, tilting his head, trying to make their mouths meet, but Jai pulls away, lets go of Cherry, and steps back.
There is no excuse this time. They haven't just met, Jai isn't overcome by an emotion he needs to step away to manage, and Cherry isn't surprising him with an inappropriate gesture. A sharp pang shoots through Cherry's chest, and anxiety overcomes him. Jai doesn't want this. Or worse, Jai is playing with him. Anger and embarrassment threaten to rise in Cherry. His brows turn down, and he makes a disappointed noise. As though Jai can read his thoughts, he soothes and tempers the moment with a hand on Cherry's cheek, his thumb stroking Cherry's skin. Jai looks around the room and swallows.
"I need it cleaned and organized." Jai says it so calmly it takes a moment for Cherry to register the instruction.
"Eh?!" Cherry remembers where they are and scans the huge room. Jai tries not to laugh at the incredulous look Cherry gives him, but he does smile again. He does that a lot with Cherry.
“As much as you can do today and ma-maybe tomorrow.” Jai tries to keep his voice reasonable and calm, but Cherry still looks unconvinced. Jai decides it’s for the best. He needs distance, space to think. He turns to leave, unconcerned with being abrupt, and wipes a hand over his face, letting two fingers brush down his mustache.
Cherry watches him walk away, a beat in his chest, every muscle screaming to stop him. Cherry can’t take this tension, this uncertainty any longer. He catches up with Jai and tugs on his arm, forcing him to stop. Jai turns and looks down at the hand that grips his arm, his expression unreadable. When he looks at Cherry, he doesn’t see fear or anxiety but excitement.
“I want to spend more time with you.” Cherry sounds breathless, but he smiles and lets go of Jai’s arm. Jai clears his throat, averts his eyes, and his face pinches.
“I know. I know why we shouldn't.” Cherry’s voice is firm. Jai looks at him then, and Cherry’s eyes carry clarity and conviction.
“But I still want to.” Cherry is forward again. He places his hand gently against Jai’s chest, feeling the strong muscle and coarse hair against the thin linen of his kurta. Jai’s heart pounds against it. The feelings there are complicated and terrifying. Jai gently pulls at Cherry’s wrist, removing it from his chest.
“I will be back in a few hours to take you to eat." Jai swallows, and the uneasy feeling in his stomach is somehow calmed by the bright smile Cherry flashes.
Jai doesn't come for Cherry. Shatru does. He's breathless and in a hurry again, fumbling with his phone. Cherry stands from his squat, leaving the jewelry organized into piles. His face falls when he sees Shatru, expecting a new assignment or new laminate, with an excuse that Jai has more pressing commitments.
"Raavan asked for you. He wants you to meet him in his kitchen. Do you know where that is?" Shatru asks, hoping he won't have to take Cherry himself. Cherry does know where it is, and Shatru looks relieved. He races off and leaves Cherry to find his way on his own. When Cherry does arrive at Jai's kitchen, he's met with something that surprises him.
Jai is cooking.
Jai is standing at the stove in a long apron, lifting the lid of a pot. The smell that meets Cherry is wonderful, rich, and savory with an edge of mustard and lemon. Cherry’s body perks up, and he moves gently to sit on a stool near the kitchen island. Jai removes his apron and moves awkwardly to plate their food in a large flat dish. Jai carries with him a second dish of roti and chutney, the smells making Cherry's mouth water. Jai sets down their meal gently and sits next to Cherry, leaning close to share. Cherry's heart swells at the gesture, not even the barrier of separate servings between them now.
It isn't until he's ready to eat that Cherry realizes it's his favorite meal. Chitranna and Dum Ka Murgh with Kerala pickle. Cherry isn't sure if Jai found out it was his favorite or if it's a coincidence. He also is not sure which he prefers, so he decides not to ask, enjoying the possibility of both. Cherry smiles brightly at Jai, who hums in response. They both grab a flatbread and begin to tear strips and scoop rice. They eat in silence for a while, content to just be with each other for a meal. Their fingers brush gently every few moments as they reach around the same plate, dabbing in chutney. Cherry smiles to himself each time.
"You are a very good cook." Cherry says around a large bite and tries not to laugh as Jai looks deeply uncomfortable with the compliment.
"Did your mother teach you?" Cherry asks. Jai's expression shifts. It isn't awkward this time. It's guarded. Cherry decides the question was a bit too much and pulls back, not letting Jai answer.
"My mother barely taught me to boil water. I suppose she thought I'd eventually find a wife to take care of all that." Cherry continues to eat, ignoring the unanswered question, and Jai takes it for the mercy it is.
"You boil water very well." Jai says softly, but Cherry chokes on laughter. Jai hands him a napkin as Cherry laughs through the food in his throat. Jai tries to get them off the subject of mothers.
"What about your fa-fah-father?" Jai asks. Cherry shrugs.
"He drove a rickshaw. It's what got him killed in the end." Cherry pauses, trying to not think about that night. "I drove one before this. Sometimes I miss it." Jai already knows this, but he raises his eyebrows in surprise and revisualizes Cherry weaving around Hyderabad in a tuk-tuk.
"You can drive?" Jai asks playfully with mock surprise. Cherry laughs again, a hand over his mouth. He nudges Jai's shoulder, and Jai lets himself sway at the touch. Cherry smiles and scoots closer, letting his body press against Jai's, only giving his right arm room to eat.
Jai is finished eating anyway. He usually doesn’t eat much around lunch and is content to just watch Cherry eat. Cherry is hungry. He spends his days scrubbing and folding and moving furniture. He always has an appetite. Jai is pleased he takes more of the food and that he seems to enjoy it so much. A sudden rush of warmth fills Jai’s chest as he watches Cherry chew and hum happily around each bite.
Jai feels bold all of a sudden. He reaches into the rice at the sight of a good-looking chunk of meat. He plucks it and raises it towards Cherry. An offering. Cherry smiles and moves to take it with his hand, but Jai pulls the offer back and winks. Cherry picks up on the intention as Jai moves his hand closer to Cherry's mouth. Cherry obliges and parts his lips, showing his tongue. Jai pushes the bite in, and Cherry's lips close around it, grazing Jai's fingers. They are wet, warm, and soft like velvet. Jai would be lying if he said he didn't feel a pulse in his cock, but he lets it sit there. They are eating, and he only wants to be close to Cherry right now, nothing more.
Jai dips his hands in the nearby finger bowl and dabs a bit of water on his mustache, wiping down both with a dinner cloth. With clean hands, Jai gently fits his arm around Cherry’s waist. It’s gentle and soft, but Cherry stiffens, not used to so much touching at so many intimate parts of himself. He eventually lets himself melt into it. Jai fits the ends of his fingers under Cherry's kurta and lifts, letting his hand and fingertips graze against Cherry's hip. Cherry’s skin is warm there, and Jai thumbs at the small layer of fat that sits over his waist.
Cherry wants to moan and sigh and press into Jai’s hands. He wants to slot their mouths together and wrap his arms around Jai's back, but his hands are sticky with rice and turmeric. He licks his fingers playfully, hoping Jai will push the finger bowl to him. Cherry opens his mouth to ask when they both hear a voice calling for Jai. Shatru. Cherry curses quietly when Shatru walks into the kitchen, again in a hurry and breathless.
He asks for Raavan. Jai squeezes Cherry's hip before standing and leaves to speak with Shatru outside. He can hear Cherry let out a long and exasperated breath. Jai smiles to himself, pleased that he provokes that kind of frustration.
When they are alone, Jai realizes how anxious Shatru looks. He is generally Jai's most collected man, the kind of advisor who disarms anxiety, not one who embraces it.
"They want to meet tonight." Shatru breathes. Jai's face immediately shifts to a serious expression as he thinks.
"Shifting the meet so many times like this, they act like they've never done business with us." Jai's frustration starts to rise.
"I've been going back and forth with them all week. They know we don't have everything ready, but they say they are willing to take the loss for a quicker delivery." Shatru pulls a hand over his face.
"Did they say why?" Jai’s voice is stern and low.
"It's worse than we thought. They've been keeping it to themselves to stay in control. They lost a supplier. It was a cousin, his entire crew dead. The funeral arrangements, the loss of product—it’s a fucking disaster."
Jai puts his fingers to his mustache and pulls. Shatru breathes and continues.
"Now the collectors in the forest who worked for him want to deal directly with the family, rather than go through another middleman. They're trying to elect one of their own as a leader. It's a mess they're trying to clean up. It's going to be a full restructuring of their power chain. Nobody is happy, and I'm trying to keep us out of it."
"Is it safe to meet tonight?" Shatru pulls a curl at the nape of his neck, thinking.
“I’ve checked with all my contacts. They aren’t lying. There were funerals, the coolies in the forest are organizing, and there’s been no sale of extra product on the market. Whoever has what they lost, we don't know them. The only reason it would be unsafe is if they were sloppy with the local law or if they had reason to be upset with us. If we were involved in this.” Shatru pauses and asks his next question with care.
"They don't have any reason to be upset with us, do they?” Shatru tries to form an expression that is earnest and respectful. He trusts Raavan. He just needs all the information. Jai straightens his posture and lets Shatru see the conviction in his eyes.
"No. They don't." Jai swallows, and Shatru accepts it.
"The local law? Where is Tapan?" Jai asks and looks to the closed door of the kitchen and then back to Shatru. He should have just stayed there. He wishes he could have. In that moment with Cherry.
"He's seeing to it right now, in Baramphur, asking questions. So far he hasn't heard anything regarding a meet or the murders. The family is doing a good job keeping it quiet and keeping the officers paid." Shatru takes his phone out to check for new messages.
"What do you think?" Jai asks. Shatru looks up and considers it seriously.
"We need to move the product now, or it won't keep for a new buyer. I can get us ready, but you should be there to give the men your assurance." Jai agrees with Shatru. He needs to run this himself.
"Is Kaakha packing the trucks?" Jai asks. Shatru tilts his head yes. "I want as many men as we can manage without looking aggressive. Have everyone armed but only pi-pistols, we don't want to aggravate them."
Shatru puts his phone back and listens. Jai gives Shatru further instructions and turns back to the kitchen. When he enters, Cherry is still at the island, his shoulders low and head down. Jai moves to the stove and taps at each knob, making sure the gas is off. When he turns to Cherry, he opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it at the sight in front of him. Cherry's face is pale and sad, with glassy, red-rimmed eyes. His face is dry now, but he looks like he's been crying. Jai doesn't need to know exactly why. There's a part of him that knows what this is, or at least knows the feeling of being left in a room alone.
Jai walks around to Cherry, his stride firm. He places a palm on Cherry's cheek and forces his eyes up to meet his own, his thumb grazing where tears fell.
"I need to work. It's an emergency. I want to speak to you when I return. It's important. Can I wake you if you are sleeping?" Cherry's face brightens, and he smiles.
"Yes." Cherry’s voice is hoarse and small. He thinks for a moment, his brows pinching.
"Should I come? Can I help?" Cherry asks. His voice returning to him. Jai lowers his hand from Cherry's cheek. It feels cold when it doesn't have Cherry's skin against it.
"Not this time. It's too com-complicated." Jai smiles, but the concern on Cherry's face returns.
Jai looks down at Cherry's hands. They rest sweetly on his knee. He plucks one gently and holds it in his own. It's smaller than his but looks strong. Jai sees a scrape or two on Cherry's knuckles, left over from the fight with Sekhar, now dark against his skin. He brings them to his lips and kisses them gently. They taste like lemon. Cherry's face colors, and he looks happy. A small voice in Jai's chest feels pride, telling him to keep it that way.
When Cherry lies down that night, the haveli nearly empty, all he can dream about is Jai's arms around him, holding him, promising he will be safe.
Jai does wake him in the night, but not in the way either of them intended. Cherry shoots from his bed, the sound of Jai yelling startling him from sleep. As Cherry rushes to dress and leave his room, the yelling gets louder, and more voices join the chorus, ringing through the haveli like alarm bells. Cherry races through rooms and hallways, the clamoring and yelling of men getting louder as he nears the main hall. When Cherry arrives, he's met with blood. Crimson dragged over the floor by men carrying heavy bodies wrapped in white sheets. Cherry's eyes scan the room wildly, his breathing panicked. They finally find Jai, lying slumped in an armchair near his swing. His face is pale, and his eyes shift slowly to Cherry.
Kaakha's hands press to Jai's chest, blood thick and red, seeping through his fingers.
Chapter 6: Antyesti
Summary:
Jai and Cherry survive.
Chapter Text
Cherry remembers this. Small hands on his Nanna's neck, warm sticky blood on his fingers, the feel of air escaping, lungs fighting for breath through a cut throat. Cherry remembers the death rattle, the sound of his father dying under his hands. They say light leaves the eyes, it's true, Cherry's seen it. He feels a vague sense of guilt for holding his father first. He wonders if his Amma's eventual death was punishment. If he had held her wound instead, would she be alive now?
"Abbayi !" Kaakha is sweating, his forehead wet but he doesn't look scared. He looks angry. Kaakha's voice snaps Cherry from the memory but Cherry doesn't move. His feet stand frozen. Dead bodies lie on the floor in front of him, linen sheets covering their faces. Jai is bleeding in a chair and Cherry is frozen on the spot. He isn't scared, he doesn't panic, he doesn't feel anything.
"Come here now!" Kaakha is shouting. Cherry takes in air, not realizing he had stopped breathing. He finally moves, his legs weak but he makes it to them. Jai is bleeding. Jai watches him, his face pale and damp, blood on his lip. Their eyes lock but Cherry doesn't know what to do. Should I say something? Kaakha is shouting again but at someone else. A man replies to him and runs off, deeper into the haveli.
"Abbayi help me. Give me one of the sheets on the floor." Cherry's brows knit. Dead bodies are under those sheets. Those are for them, but he feels himself moving towards them regardless, like he's being pulled. He tugs on a sheet and the body underneath is red, covered in dark blood, the top of his skull is missing. The gore is thick and messy like wet dirt, like jelly with grit. Cherry sees the body's face and doesn't understand. It's Jeevi, he doesn't understand, Jeevi is alive. Jeevi is not dead. He stands and stares. His mind wonders why this dead body is pretending to be Jeevi. Cherry decides he will ask Jeevi about it later and turns to give Kaakha the sheet.
Kaakha removes a hand to grab at the fabric, then presses the sheet with his hands back on Jai's chest. No, not his chest, his shoulder. Jai lets out a long cry and his face pinches, showing his teeth. The man from before returns carrying a large box. He opens it on a table near Kaakha. Cherry just stands there. Where is Jeevi? He wonders. Kaakha looks at Cherry for a moment, his eyes hard.
"Come sit next to me." Kaakha's tone is flat. It's an order. Cherry sits. His body doesn't feel it. Kaakha speaks to the man again. Cherry realizes it's Tapan. He's not wearing his Pagri and his cheek is bleeding. Cherry stares at Jai. Jai watches him. Kaakha turns to yell something at the other men and Jai whispers something small, something only for Cherry.
"Pandu ." It comes out in a long breath. Jai's eyes are wet.
"Bring the iron!" Kaakha tells Tapan. Jai lets out another wail at the word iron . Jai's voice is normally so deep and quiet that it confuses Cherry when Jai's screams are so sharp and high. Kaakha turns to him and grabs Cherry's hands, placing them on Jai's chest. No, his shoulder.
"Hold it tight. Don't let him bleed." Kaakha stands and his chair scrapes against the ground, it sounds like a scream. He grabs at the box on the table and pulls out bandages, bottles, syringes, needles, and scissors. Cherry turns to Jai, he looks so tired, he has a brush of blood on his cheek and his hair's a mess. Cherry wants to fix it for him. No, keep your hands on the sheet , don’t let him bleed . They lock eyes. Cherry's face is still, his eyes wide and wild. Cherry sees his own hands, Jai's blood seeping through his fingers. Suddenly his body flushes with adrenaline and his face breaks. It's quiet, but Jai sees it.
"I've been sh-sh-shot. It's only in m-my sh-sh-shoulder." Jai nearly whispers it, out of breath and exhausted. Cherry's face isn't sure what to do, he wants to cry but can't, he wants to scream but can't. Cherry swallows and remembers to hold his hands firm. Don't let him bleed, don't let him bleed, don't let him bleed. When Kaakha returns, he pulls Cherry's hands away. Cherry moves, dragging his little chair to the other side of Jai, he realizes it's a footstool. The sound it makes against the floor is ridiculous. Jai's eyes follow him and he licks his lips, his eyelids heavy.
Suddenly Kaakha is ripping Jai's kurta, exposing his chest. It's red with blood too. Jai's hand finds Cherry's and squeezes. The grip is tight but their hands are crimson and slick.
"He ne-ne-needs to stop th-the bleeding. It only lo-looks bad." Jai's eyes slip close and he breathes hard. Kaakha has tools in his hand but Cherry can't see. He stretches his neck. He feels a tug on his arm.
"Lo-look at m-me. Pandu. Me." Jai swallows thickly and keeps his eyes open. Cherry listens to the order.
"Where is Jeevi?" Cherry's voice is small and weak. Jai's eyes are soft.
"Je-Jeevi is on the floor. Jeevi is de-de-dead. He was shot in the he-head." Cherry's face crumples again.
"Is he dead?" Cherry asks, confused. Jai frowns, his face is sad and he looks lost.
"Yes." Jai swallows again. "Je-Jeevi is dead." Cherry takes a shuddering breath and then his face hardens. Jeevi is dead. He wonders if Jeevi knows that. Jeevi is dead. Cherry is alive. He looks down at their hands again. Holding each other. Jai is alive . He turns to Kaakha.
"What else can I do?" Kaakha looks up, He is holding forceps. Cherry realizes they are inside of Jai's shoulder. Tapan appears suddenly with the iron, it's bright at the end like the sun. Jai turns his head and makes a low noise. Kaakha speaks to Cherry.
"Hold his hand. He might pass out." Suddenly Kaakha pulls and the forceps pop out, a crumpled bullet in its grip. Jai makes another noise of pain. Kaakha reaches behind himself and grabs something thick, a wallet, a belt, Cherry doesn't know, he shoves it in Jai's mouth to clamp down on. Kaakha is so calm, Cherry looks at him like it's the first time he sees him. Then he looks at Jai. Jai looks like he's dying. Cherry's entire body flushes with affection and clarity. I love him. I love him. He can't die, I love him.
Cherry leans forward, grips Jai's hand tightly, and lets Jai lean his head towards him, his forehead at Cherry's shoulder, bracing. Cherry hears a faint hiss and Jai is screaming, muffled through the gag. Jai's body trembles so hard it's almost convulsing. He squeezes Cherry's hand so tight it hurts. Cherry sobs but presses the sound to Jai's cheek. Cherry smells something sweet and putrid waft through the air, he realizes it's Jai's shoulder.
"Jaanu . Please. Please." Cherry whispers it and Jai breathes. Kaakha pours alcohol on the cauterized wound and Jai shakes again. When he finally stops, he spits out the gag and licks his lips, exhausted and panting, floating in and out of consciousness. Cherry squeezes his hand, willing him to stay awake. Jai looks at Cherry with a fuzzy expression.
"You are so beautiful." Jai slurs. Kaakha laughs. Kaakha threads a needle. Cherry looks at Kaakha with wet eyes. Cherry doesn't feel like laughing.
Suddenly there is new shouting. Tapan is at the end of the hall, speaking loudly, and someone is yelling. As they get closer Cherry realizes it's Shatru. He looks wild, his eyes open and white, his hair matted with blood. He carries with him a sickle, curved like a crescent moon, polished red with blood. Shatru and Tapan walk to them, breathing heavily.
"Is he dead!?" Shatru yells it, his nostrils flared. Kaakha doesn't look, focused on his stitching. Jai rolls his head towards Shatru, his eyes clouded.
"A fucking trap! Cowards!" Shatru punctuates the statement by slamming his sickle into the wooden table, the blade slicing through, and standing straight up.
"They couldn't do this without help, without information. This smells like a rat." Shatrus' voice is low and dangerous.
"Did you lie to me!?" Shatru yells the accusation and the room goes quiet. Jai coughs and it's wet.
There's more noise and chaos at the entrance, a man drags another into the hall by his hair, curls wet with blood, screaming and scrabbling at the floor. Shatru plucks the sickle from the wood, it makes a loud creak and splinters fly into the air.
"We found one" The man calls. Shatru strides up to them fast, pointing the sharp end of his crescent sword at the wet bloody neck of the man on the floor.
"Who are you? You don't work for Vibhishana!" Shatru looks wild with anger and presses the sickle deeper. The man chokes and whines, trying to crawl away.
Shatru tells Jai it's one of the men who attacked, they don't dress or act like Vibhishana's men. They wear lungis, vests, and thongs and carry only aruvals . Shatru slices at his arm, demanding he talk. The man screams in pain. Cherry presses further against Jai, not wanting to look. By the 5th cut, the man finally screams a name.
"Srinivasa!"
The hall goes silent. Shatru raises his blade and swipes it strong and fast across the man's neck. Blood gushes like pouring milk, the man grabs at his throat, his fingers slipping through red gore, shaking with fear and shock. His mouth gapes like a fish, his eyes wide. He tries to find air but only inhales blood, drowning in it. Cherry shakes and sobs, hiding in Jai's side, his eyes squeezed shut.
"Who is Srinivasa?" Shatru hisses the name. Jai yells in pain again, Kaakha leans on the wound, his face angry. Cherry feels wild all of a sudden, fear and panic rushing through him. Kaakha is hurting Jai. He's standing fast and clenching his fists, an arm over Jai's body, trembling, eyes wet and wild. Jai's hand comes out, stopping Cherry. Kaakha's eyes are round and his gaze fixed.
"No, no Pa-pandu . Look at m-me." Cherry looks around wildly, the room smells like iron and fear. His body is rigid, leaning over Jai, ready for anything.
"Lo-look at m-me." Jai whispers, his hand holding Cherry's tight. Cherry sits back slowly, his eyes finding Jai's. Kaakha grunts and moves back to bandaging, he says something stern to Shatru which seems to settle him and gets him to move, shouting at the men, organizing the chaos. Tapan leans a hand on Kaakha and points a strange look at Cherry. Cherry points one back, his grip on Jai tight.
Cherry looks around them, finally trying to process the room, various men sit around wounded or dead, exhausted and resting. Cherry's eyes continue to fit and finally land on Sekhar, sitting lazily in a corner, smoking and bleeding from his head. Jai sees him too and moves to sit up. Kaakha makes noises of protest but Jai insists.
"You sa-saved my life." Jai breathes. Sekhar shrugs a shoulder and bites at the end of his beedi .
"You're the boss. I'm like a hero eh?" Sekhar holds up two fingers and winks "Like Megastar ." He laughs and coughs, wincing at the pressure from his head wound. Kaakha eyes them both, a question on his lips.
"Sekhar at-attacked the man who sh-sh-shot me. The bullet wo-would be in my head if h-he didn't." Jai stops to catch his breath. "The shot g-g-grazed his temple." Sekhar puts fingers to his own head and his face scrunches.
"I kill him though." He says quietly to himself. Cherry looks at Jai then looks at Sekhar. He stands gently and walks to the box of medical supplies. Cherry takes bandages and antiseptic wipes. He walks gently over covered bodies and kneels down near Sekhar, his expression revealing nothing. He places the bandages and wipes near Sekhar and gives him a look. Sekhar looks tired but says nothing. Cherry turns to stand but stops, he gently places a hand on Sekhar's foot, leaving blood behind. Sekhar's eyes go wide but he looks down, uncomfortable with the gesture.
"Abbayi! Come help me!" Cherry turns at Kaakha's call and sees him trying to lift Jai under his shoulder. Cherry moves quickly to help. They share Jai's weight and move through the haveli towards Jai's room. The walls and doors and windows swirl in Cherry's vision, like walking through a nightmare Kaakha' grunts and Jai's labored breathing, the only thing grounding him.
"The rest of the men can't see him like this." Kaakha keeps his eyes on the floor and then straight ahead as they push through into the room. Jai is awake and does his best to hold himself up. Kaakha directs them into the attached bathroom and they both lower Jai onto the tile floor. Cherry squats with him, watching his tired eyes. Kaakha stands and takes a breath. When he speaks, it's to both of them.
"Shatru can't be left alone right now he's too angry. Tapan is injured on his back, he won't let me see it and Sekhar isn't who we want running anything."
Jai huffs. "He's wo-worth mo-more than that."
Kaakha turns to Cherry. "I need you to do this. Change him and clean him and put him in bed. The doctor is driving in and will be here soon. Change his bandage if it gets wet." Kaakha reaches into a pocket and pulls out wadded bandages and tape and leaves them on the counter. He gives Cherry one last hard look, then Jai, then turns to leave.
When the door clicks shut Cherry turns to Jai and clutches. He makes small terrified sounds as his hands move around his chest, checking for a heartbeat and breath. Jai pushes his forehead to Cherry's in an attempt to soothe him. They breathe together and Cherry finally lets himself cry.
"I ne-ne-need you to do so-so-something." Jai swallows and licks his lips. Cherry waits for instruction, sniffling, and wipes at the tears on his face.
"G-G-Go vomit." Cherry's eyes widen and he goes still, his eyes scan Jai's face and he swallows. Jai sees the pain and terror in them, the tips of his long black hair dipped in blood, the droplets smeared on his face. He is still so beautiful.
"Go." Jai's voice is firm. Cherry doesn't hesitate, he turns and crawls on his hands and knees toward the raised porcelain toilet. He slams open the lid and wretches. The entire contents of his stomach come up warm and vile, the smell worsening his sudden nausea. He shakes through it and has to breathe for a moment as his throat contracts and his stomach lurches. He makes terrible, sad noises that embarrass him. Cherry takes a towel and drags it roughly over his face, wiping tears and blood, spitting bile into the toilet. He flushes and breathes, his lip trembling. When he turns, the sight of Jai jolts him into action.
Cherry scrambles to stand and moves to turn on the shower behind Jai, he grabs the bucket on the floor letting the spray wet him, he lets it fill, and finds a cup, a rag and a bar of soap. When he returns to stand over Jai, he places the items down and moves to make sure the door is locked. When it is he pauses, looks down at himself, looks at Jai and starts to undress. It's only his kurta and loose trousers, he leaves them in the corner by the toilet with his thongs. He makes his way to Jai and squats.
Jai looks up at him in awe, He admires his skin, still dark and smooth when spattered with blood, Jai caught the thick thatch of hair over his soft cock and his small dark nipples against a nearly bare chest. He's so beautiful. He's so beautiful . Cherry huffs and starts pulling at Jai's torn Kurta. Jai must have been saying it out loud. Cherry undresses Jai carefully and rips anything that might cause Jai pain if he tries to remove it whole. Cherry pulls at Jai's trousers and shoes, eventually cutting at his underwear and throwing everything into the corner pile.
With them both finally bare, Cherry grabs the bucket and starts using the cup to rinse them both of blood and sweat. Jai breathes deeply as the warm water soothes away the pain, even if only slightly. Cherry refills the bucket multiple times, rinsing them in hot water until it turns from red to pink to nearly clear, rushing toward the large drain in the floor. He takes one last bucket and uses a soapy rag to wash them both down. Cherry is very careful with Jai's chest, the bandages are soaked but he will change those after. It's now, in the light, that Cherry sees Jai's collection of scars on his chest and back. A circle here, a long line there. Cherry starts to piece together painful memories and Jai's life becomes clearer. Working close to me isn't safe. It's important you aren't confused on that.
Jai hums sweetly as Cherry scrubs his collar and neck, the smile a mixture of affection and light-headedness from the loss of blood. Jai watches Cherry, his hair slicked wet, pressed to the skin of his cheeks and neck, making him look so small. The wet hair reveals his ears. Jai feels warmth in his chest when he sees they stick out like a little elephant. Cherry's eyes stay filled with worry and panic but both parallel against a set determination in his jaw. Jai's attention lands on Cherry's lips, pink from the heat and steam, wet and plump too.
"I'll ki-ki-kiss you bujji. " Jai breathes. Cherry's eyes go soft at the endearment, he wills them to stay dry and concentrates on scrubbing. "Your fi-first kiss. I'm a g-g-ood kisser." Jai hisses and lets out a small noise when Cherry slips and presses too close to his wounded shoulder.
"Sorry!" Cherry's voice is hoarse and it cracks.
Cherry tackles their groins last, scrubbing himself roughly and rinsing and giving Jai a quick wash, dousing them both with full buckets to rinse away the soap. He wants to smile at the way Jai's wet hair tries valiantly to curl. Cherry assumed he straightened it with heat and product but seeing the texture try so hard to return is almost endearing. Cherry wipes Jai's face of excess water, patting back his hair and checking that his mustache is clear.
Cherry moves to turn off the shower and quickly dries them both off with a towel. He unlocks the door and moves to tear back the bedding on the bed. Carrying Jai out of the room is difficult, getting him up results in multiple near slips but Cherry keeps at it and eventually gets him on the bed and under soft sheets. Jai passes out the moment he lies down, the adrenaline finally fading. Cherry tackles the bandages next, redressing the wound. He feels silly, standing naked and damp next to his bed, redressing a wound like some nurse. When Cherry pulls back the wet gauze, the wound looks ugly and swollen, the burnt flesh white and black. The smell of it churns Cherry's stomach again.
He finishes quickly and moves back to the bathroom, dumping the old bandages in the trash and their clothing too. He remembers the smell again, the sight of Jai bleeding and screaming, and drops to his knees to wretch in the toilet. Nothing comes this time and he dry heaves until his body gives up. He wonders if Jai is used to this, if men vomit at the sight of blood all the time, or if Jai lied, and knows Cherry is weak. Cherry stands and glances around the room. Most of the blood has washed away but he decides to rinse it down with the toilet hose anyway, he puts the washing bucket and cup back in their place and throws the rag away.
With everything sorted better, Cherry moves into the room, he watches Jai's chest rise and fall, filled with relief. Cherry checks dressers and closets and finds himself some light sleeping pants and a soft shirt, both a bit too large for him. He crawls onto the bed next to Jai and places a hand on his belly. Heavy and warm tears return but Cherry tries to focus on how Jai's belly rises and falls. Still breathing .
When the doctor does arrive, Cherry jolts. He dozed off sitting up, his hand resting on Jai, he panics for a moment but feels his breath again. Jai is still unconscious, he looks small and young like this. Cherry pulls his hand away and slips off the bed to watch. The doctor is a short quiet little man and enters the room with Kaakha behind him. He speaks in Malayalam and Kaakha answers him. They seem to both be angry with each other. Cherry doesn't understand but he stands quietly and listens.
The doctor pulls back at Jai's bandage and clicks his tongue, clearly disappointed. He speaks again and opens his bag. The doctor does a quick scrub of his hands with what smells like rubbing alcohol, and Chery's stomach flips again. He uses a stethoscope in various places on Jai's chest and listens intently. Then the doctor snaps on gloves and prepares a syringe. He taps it twice, removing air bubbles, and carefully pierces the wound multiple times in different spots. The doctor sighs when he's done, finishing with a topical ointment and replacing the bandages. He then retrieves an IV bag of blood and attaches it to Jai's arm, hanging it haphazardly from the bed's canopy. When he's finished, he pulls off the latex gloves and tosses them in a nearby trashcan before handing Kaakha a couple of bottles of pills and the rest of the ointment. The doctor smiles awkwardly at Cherry before leaving, hobbling out while mumbling to himself. Kaakha lets out a long breath as he watches him go.
"He is only worried about infection. I assumed that. This medication is important." Kaakha rattles a pill bottle. Cherry isn't completely sure Kaakha is speaking to him specifically but he listens. He takes Kaakha in, his hair a mess and skin shiny with sweat, his light-colored clothes are stained a dark red in various spots and his hands are scrubbed pink from blood. He looks exhausted.
"There is still more I need to watch over." Kaakha pauses to eye Cherry. "You will stay here." It isn't a question, but Cherry responds.
"Yes." Cherry's voice is hoarse and his eyes are rimmed red with dark circles underneath. Kaakha hums and turns to leave. He stops and tilts his head back to speak.
"You did good Abbayi ." Cherry's face pinches. Kaakha leaves and clicks the door shut.
Cherry looks at Jai, his chest aches and he crawls back onto the bed to rest a hand on Jai's belly again. It moves up and down gently. He lies down carefully, pressing his nose and forehead gently to Jai's arm. Cherry drifts into sleep, a mantra repeating itself in his head.
I love him. I love him. He can't die, I love him.
When Jai wakes his first thought is of pain. It sears and spikes throughout his entire body, coming to a point at his shoulder. The events from that night rush through his mind like wildfire and he grunts at the nausea that roils in his gut. Jai eventually moves to sit when there is a fast and sudden movement on his side. Cherry, at one moment, clearly sleeping close, wakes in alarm, his hand shooting out to Jai's belly. Cherry finds the belly isn't in the same place and looks up, confused. Jai's heart cracks, and more memories flood his mind, Cherry's care and fear and trembling hands covered in bloody soap. Jai leans over, pressing his forehead to Cherry who shudders, eyes shining. He looks exhausted still, with dark eyes and dry lips.
Jai moves to stand and Cherry makes a sound of protest. Jai ignores it and lifts himself on wobbling legs, wincing as the wound stretches and shifts. Cherry only vaguely acknowledges Jai's nudity, he looks pale and sick and the image scares him. Jai sees the pills and ointment and the IV in his arm attached to an empty bag. The same prescriptions as last time. Jai removes the IV gently and grabs the opioids, tossing them across the room into the garbage.
"You were shot. You should be in bed." Cherry's voice is thin and sounds sad. Jai turns to him with gentleness.
"We have bodies to burn."
There are only two bodies. Lying wrapped in sheets on unlit pyres, toes tied and eyes covered. They were washed early and oiled in silence. Flowers and fabric cover Jeevi's head, concealing his open skull. Shatru did most of the work with a large bandage stuck to his head. The brushes of turmeric on small cuts, glow under the rising sun. Cherry smells salt in the air and feels cool sand under his feet, the seagulls cry out as they circle the beach searching for food. Cherry had to borrow white trousers from the closet to match his kurta and dressing Jai was a struggle, worried about staining the ivory fabric with blood.
Jai's arm rests in a sling to minimize movement, it's white too. They tied thick bandages around his chest to control any extra bleeding and gave him water, pills, and bread for strength to oversee the funeral rights. Cherry holds the memory of Jai's thumb at his forehead, close in his heart, brushing kumkum with affection and then applying his own.
"Jeevi's father refused his body last ni-ni-night. Shatru brought him back to us." Cherry is numb to it. The other fallen men were mourned over on early morning doorsteps. The cries and screams of women filling the streets. If Cherry squints he can see smoke rise over the city in the distance, the smell of milk and dhoop suffocating. All intertwined with that sweet putrid smell of Jai's burning flesh.
Jeevi's body was turned away like rotting trash.
"We'll take his as-ashes to Godavari. Will you keep his bones?" Jai tries to ask the question gently. Cherry's response is firm.
"Send them to his father. Leave them at his door. Force him to keep them or throw them out." Jai keeps his eyes on Cherry, curious, the conviction in his decision, the gentle flutter of long thin hair over his eyes. Something squeezes in Jai's chest. Something new.
The other body, a quiet man Cherry is told, had no family. Sekhar is the one to pour his oil and light his flame. Jai asks if Cherry wants to light Jeevi's. Cherry doesn't, but he does it anyway.
When Cherry moves back to Jai's side, he presses himself against him, unconcerned with what it looks like, suddenly very desperate to be held. He's careful of Jai's shoulder and Jai can only hold him with one arm. Cherry hides his tears and the ugly way his face scrunches as he sobs. Jai's lips find Cherry's crown and Cherry leans into it. The roar and heat of flames brush against them, the light bright against the early morning. Cherry can hear the Pujari chanting and feels the soft rub of Jai's palm on his back. He remembers a warm washcloth on the same spot, Jeevi sitting with him on the floor of his flat, Cherry sick and crying. He wonders why Jai's hand feels so different.
Jai peels the bandage back slowly. He watches the twisted flesh show itself in the small bathroom mirror. It's been a week and it seems to be healing well. He sniffs and grabs at the bottle of painkillers Kaakha retrieved from the trash. Jai twists off the cap and dumps the small yellow tablets into the toilet below him, flushing. He knows how to deal with the pain, he's done it before. He reapplies ointment, takes his antibiotic, and reapplies the bandage. He contemplates last week's disaster. He’s had a few conversations with Kaakha regarding what happened but he’s mostly slept and Kaakha kept the details vague. He can only assume he’s waiting for him to heal before fully concentrating on the issues. A part of him is relieved, another deeply concerned.
Jai dresses slowly, eager to return to his schedule and routine, knowing it will come back slowly but he’s always been stubborn. He re-attaches his jewelry, his beads, and even the broken watch, aiming for a return to normalcy. When he feels ready, Jai slips his arm through the new sling, made of dark, rich fabric to match his outfit, and decides to take a short walk through the grounds. The sharp sounds of his shoes echo on hard tiles as Jai admires the quiet light of the haveli. The large building is nearly empty with only a few guards milling around. Jai has kept things quiet this week, allowing himself the privacy to heal. He walks slowly, mindful of his injury but stops when he hears a faint melody. It’s a song, rusty and weak. He follows the tune throughout empty rooms and large halls until he comes to the far side of the haveli with a long row of windows. At the end, the song is loudest.
Jai sees a tall skinny ladder propped against a stained glass window and Cherry’s small form stretching to wipe it down. Jai smiles, he has only caught glimpses of the younger man this week, flashes of his face as he brings him food and water, tending to his bandages, and faint memories of Cherry’s hand in his while he slept fitfully. Jai walks quietly down the hall, his shoes making soft sounds against the rug. When he reaches the ladder he hears the song playing loudly through Cherry’s small tablet, it’s an older song and Jai is somewhat surprised to hear Cherry hum along. Jai places a hand gently on the ladder and watches as the sound of creaking wood makes Cherry jump. Jai moves his hand to Cherry’s ankle worried for a moment he might fall. Cherry looks down and smiles like the sun, bright and warm and happy.
“You are up!” Chery’s face falls for a moment. “Should you be up?” Jai only sways his head slowly, his own smile conveying kindness and ease. Cherry starts to climb down slowly, the washrag tucked under his arm. When he reaches the floor he looks at Jai with affection. The sun is bright outside, it streams light in through thick glass, Cherry looks warm under its glow. Jai feels warm.
♫ “You know this song?” Jai asks softly. Cherry shrugs.
“We were only shown the older movies in lockup. This one was my favorite.” Jai pictures the scene, moonlight and water and Sridevi crying. It fits Cherry perfectly. Jai stands straighter, clears his throat, and points his gaze.
“Lick your lips and keep th-them flat. Let it be soft at first. Don’t rush.” Cherry’s brows furrow and he tilts his head, confused. Jai takes the opening and leans forward. He follows his own instruction and wets his lips before letting them press flat and soft against Cherry’s dry ones. He only presses, it’s gentle and sweet, Cherry freezes for only a moment then softens against them. Jai moves his mouth and presses again, letting his lips shift and purse, getting both their mouths wet. The shift makes a small noise in the empty hall, a smack, heard even over the song that still plays.
Jai feels every sensation rush through his veins, electricity, and water, it all settles in his belly and between his legs. Cherry breathes and shifts at the scratch of Jai’s mustache, it prickles and tickles and he loves it. Jai pulls back only far enough to speak, Cherry feels the rush of warmth from his breath and the vibrations of his voice as it whispers.
“Go easy with tongue. Let it ha-happen softly.” Jai swallows, his face warm, Cherry pushes forward, tilting his head further, Jai tries to control the kiss, letting his tongue only brush Chery’s lips but Cherry is too eager. He moans and opens his mouth, his hand coming to Jai’s chest, gentle on his collar, trying not to disturb the sling. Jai’s own hand reaches for Cherry’s neck, their tongues brushing with each new kiss. Cherry wants to beg, his nerve endings sing and Jai’s blood rushes. Jai lets him have what he wants so badly, his mouth opens and his tongue pushes in. The kiss turns wet and hungry fast, moving slowly but with a heaviness they both can’t restrain from. Cherry makes so much noise, he wants too much, Jai feels like everything is being pulled from him, every choice, every need, Cherry takes it all.
Jai finally breaks the kiss to breathe, his nose pushing gently against Cherry’s, rubbing affectionately as he swallows. Cherry looks at Jai, the color on his cheeks, the dilation of his pupils, and the muss of his hair, brushed out and wild, without product but still stubborn to curl properly. Cherry wonders if this was a promise fulfilled, if Jai remembers all of what he said to Cherry that night. He decides it doesn’t matter. Jai laughs suddenly, it’s only a breath and a smile but it makes his eyes shine.
“You lied.” Jai whispers. His expression is happy with the reveal. Cherry smiles too, his short tooth peaking through. He carries mischief in his expression and scrunches his nose.
“I’m 24 years old, of course it was a lie.” Cherry nearly giggles at being caught. Jai laughs again.
“When? How?” Jai asks.
“I was 14. The lockup was split. One side boys, one side girls. We shared a fence in the yard. Lakshmi would meet me to kiss through the gaps.” Jai sighs at Cherry’s confession.
“Terrible, awful thing.” Jai says it like it’s something sweet, something beautiful. Their secret.
Jai kisses him again and again and again. There are tongues and hands and breath. It’s soft and safe under the colored light.
When Cherry moves to return to his cleaning and climbs the ladder, Jai keeps a hand on his thigh, holding on to ensure he doesn’t fall. When Jammu Rathiri repeats on the little tablet, Jai watches as Cherry wipes and polishes the middle face of Raavan in the window.
Chapter 7: Prasada
Summary:
The downside of passion.
Chapter Text
Jai realizes that even quiet sounds are loud in the theater room. The tall walls and high ceilings were made special with amplification in mind. Jai had the haveli rebuilt from the ground up and every room planned meticulously. He ordered this room structured for sound, for voices to carry far and loud. Now he doubts the decision. He likes a loud partner, he likes to know he's doing well, but he doesn't want the entire island of Lanka to hear the wild little noises Cherry makes, and just from kissing.
They've made a small bed, at the corner of the stage, protected and draped in long strips of fabric hung from the ceiling like curtains, some sheer, some heavy and thick. Their makeshift nest is plush with heavy costumes, cloaks, kurtas, scarves, and sarees. Cherry made sure it was soft and wide, good enough to support Jai with his healing wound. It's been almost 2 weeks since that night and Jai is healing well, but still sore. Cherry asked once about pain medication, but didn't ask again when he saw how Jai's face turned, clearly uninterested.
So Jai lies on his back, propped up by thick, expensive fabric, support for his shoulder and to minimize any strain. Cherry lies next to Jai on his good side, a leg draped over his thigh, a gentle hand on his chest, his mouth moving slowly in a wet kiss, and he is noisy. Small happy noises, finally getting the attention he's wanted so badly. Jai keeps his good hand, on his good side, on Cherry's nape, moving and squeezing gently, resisting the urge to move his bad shoulder and grab more of him. The restrictive position is torture, but the idea of waiting any longer to touch each other is not an option. They have a taste for it now, it's all either of them can think about.
The sounds in the room are loud, the gentle wet smack of lips and tongue, Cherry's soft noises, and the rumble vibrating in Jai's chest. Jai's lips are eager and Cherry's are pliant. Cherry's upper lip is raw and sensitive from Jai's mustache but he continues to press, his own lighter facial hair trying valiantly to protect him. The kiss is good. The kiss is long and slick and hot. They breathe into each other and their noses press flat, both flushed at the tip. Cherry's hand rubs in circles on Jai's chest and travels over his neck and beard. When Jai nips at Cherry's bottom lip, it sends a flood of warmth through his body, pooling between his thighs.
Cherry tries not to think about how hard he is, how thick he feels, how every nerve ending lights up at each brush of fabric from his trousers. He tries to ignore how desperately he wants Jai's hands on him but is afraid to ask, unsure how much Jai can do with his shoulder. But Cherry's body had already decided for the both of them. Jai smiles as he feels Cherry try to rut against him, rotating his pelvis against Jai's thigh, desperate for friction.
Jai breaks the kiss to hum and shifts his thigh roughly, knocking against Cherry's cock, encouraging him to move. Cherry's hand moves fast to Jai's thigh, squeezing the warm muscle, it feels hot and strong through the thin fabric of his churidar pants. Cherry's voice breaks and their lips part as Jai moves again, playing with Cherry's arousal like a toy. Cherry looks at him, his eyelids heavy and mouth parted, his face hot and flush. Jai moves his good hand down Cherry's back and cups his bottom, squeezing and pushing, guiding him further against his thigh and giving it a gentle tap. Jai's chest rumbles again as Cherry's breath hitches from the sensation and he lets out a soft moan.
Cherry is afraid to agitate the shoulder but also troubles in thinking about it. That night, the smell of blood and rotting bodies. He still wonders at night if Jai is breathing and has to stop himself from sneaking back into Jai's room to check. Cherry can't think about that right now. Jai is alive and in his arms. Jai is warm and solid and breathing. Cherry breathes toom
As though sensing the anxiety, Jai's arm moves back up to hold Cherry, to cradle his upper torso and push Cherry’s face into the crook of his neck. Cherry goes happily, pressing his lips to Jai's pulse. His hands slip to his own hips to pull at his trousers, the elastic band stretching over his bottom and cinching back as it rests above his thighs. He isn't wearing underwear and Jai groans at the exposed skin. Cherry's bottom is pert and round and looks so soft, colors from the glass windows compliment his skin tone. Jai's cock aches at the sight of it.
"Is that for me?" Jai's voice is thick and strained, his own arousal making things hazy. Cherry makes a small noise and presses closer, swaying his hips slowly in between thrusts. Jai can feel Cherry's cock, hard and urgent as it drags and pushes against his thigh. It feels wonderful, Cherry's need and drive for relief is intoxicating, Jai wants to meet him there. He maneuvers them both to press his mouth to Cherry's ear.
"Is this what you d-do in that small bed, alone in your room?" Jai whispers it, low and soft. "What do you th-think about? Is it me?"
Cherry whines and draws his shoulders together as his thrusts speed up, too shy to answer, too lost in the pressure between his legs. His cock sensitive and now wet, dragging unclothed against Jai. Cherry pants into Jai's good shoulder, the fabric damp with drool, the need building and building. Jai presses his hand to Cherry's lower back, locking him there, and groans into his ear again.
"What do I do when it's me?" Jai asks.
Cherry's hand grips Jai's clothing tight, his hips moving fast now, he's never wanted anything so badly, never had something feel this good. Every thrust, every sensation, his entire body feels warm and soft, like cotton under the sun, like warm steam on flushed skin. His balls feel swollen and heavy, drawn tight, his cock aches with each touch, rigid and full. Jai's scent is so powerful this close, full of musk and spice. Cherry feels safe as it envelops them, the smell of their arousal, the smell of them. Jai feels solid and strong, like something he can hold onto. Jai moves and squeezes his bottom again. He asks what Cherry hoped he would.
"Do I fuck you?" Jai slurs.
Cherry lets out a long wail, muffled by Jai's shoulder, and goes still. That weight under his belly pulls, that balloon of sensation pops, and Cherry's body floods with pleasure. From his neck to the base of his spine, heat blankets him, it's a rush, a steady beat and it gathers in his cock, still thick and solid like stone, throbbing as he cums in long heavy pulses.
Cherry's hips lock and tremble, Jai feels a sudden warmth and then wet on his thigh. His own cock throbs in sympathy, the erotic feeling of Cherry cumming wrapped in his arms, his whole body shaking and crying out. Cherry's voice is hoarse by the end of it, weak and warbling.
Cherry realizes he was begging but he doesn't know what for. His vision is fuzzy and it takes a moment for the feeling to return to his face. He doesn't quite feel the kiss until it's already started, Jai holds Cherry up for it, sloppy and wet. Cherry can feel Jai's palm on his back, rubbing in circles. The afterglow is heavy, it's never felt like this before, like a long echo of the orgasm. Notes vibrating after strings have been plucked. The mist hanging in the air after crashing waves kiss the beach. It's the best orgasm Cherry's ever had in his life.
Jai makes a noise, something deep and urgent. Cherry's glassy eyes gaze around and catch on Jai's lap. Jai's loose trousers are tented obscenely, his own erection begging to be let out, to be touched. Jai makes the mistake of reaching out on instinct. His shoulder stretches and he hisses in pain, his face pinching. Cherry makes a small noise, upset at the movement. Cherry puts his teeth to his lip and reaches out a curious hand. He only grazes the rigid flesh under the fabric and marvels at how Jai reacts, a deep flush and a small gasp. Jai's hips push up, seeking more.
Cherry gives it to him. Long pulls of pressure, cupping, and petting. Cherry can feel the size and length of it. It feels wonderful. It feels perfect. Cherry reaches down, trying to find more, and grazes Jai's heavy sack, soft and fat, he rolls his fingers over it, knowing how sensitive it can get, and how good it feels. Jai makes a noise, it's still small and full of breath, but it's a good sound. Cherry tries to memorize it. Jai shifts his hips again, wanting more and more and more. Cherry reaches up and pulls at the tie of Jai's pants, watching the knot unfurl. He pulls his tongue across his bottom lip and pushes his fingers in to pull out Jai's cock.
Cherry nearly gasps. It's beautiful. He feels a heavy weight of affection and then feels silly for it. It looks so different from his own, it's fat in the middle and tapered at the end. It even curves a little to the right. Cherry pulls on it gently to watch it bounce back to how it likes to curve. It isn't as dark as Cherry's but the tip is just as pink and it's wet and full. Cherry draws his hand up the shaft and marvels at it. Jai would scoff or laugh if he wasn't lost in sensation. It's been so long since he's been touched like this and the build-up with Cherry has been torture.
Suddenly Cherry is tugging gently at his foreskin, drawing it back to expose the head further, then up again to conceal it. The motion repeats and Cherry smiles as he finds his rhythm. This time Jai does groan. Cherry returns his attention to Jai's pulse and fits his mouth to it, kissing and nipping as his hand strokes fast and tight. It starts to make a sound, wet skin against skin and the familiarity of it makes Cherry blush. Jai lets himself go limp, lets himself melt into it, sink into the soft nest and Cherry's mouth. Jai turns his head again to find it, slotting themselves together, their tongues finding each other. Cherry's wrist starts to twist near the end, over the sensitive head and Jai starts to pant against Cherry's mouth, his face pinching, his brows meeting. He starts to speak again, Cherry wonders if he's always so chatty.
"That's what I think about." Jai slurs and groans again, it comes from his chest. Cherry twists his wrist again and squeezes, his tongue coming out to lave at Jai's neck and chin.
"Cherry." Jai says it like a devotion, on his tongue, wet and full of lust.
Cherry moves suddenly. His hand is gone and Jai's response is sad, needy. Jai swallows as he watches Cherry sit up, his legs folded neatly under him. His trousers are still pulled down and his shirt tucked up. Jai marvels at his body. The soft curve of his belly, his dark skin, and his petite frame. Cherry shucks off his kurta and shows off his strong chest and arms, the muscles pulling and flexing as Cherry returns his hand to Jai's cock. Jai moans for it.
Cherry has dark flat nipples and hair on his belly that leads to his cock and the dense thatch of hair above it. It's soft now but fat, foreskin gathered at the end like a bow at the end of a gift. Jai wants to mouth at it, kiss it and make it hard again. Lap at the small white drops of cum on his thigh. Jai moves his hand to Cherry’s thigh and squeezes, Cherry makes a happy sound. He wiggles his hips gently and smiles at the attention, his hand a fluid motion at his side. Cherry is stripping his cock now, fast and tight, it's wet with slick, louder. Jai leaks so much sometimes, he isn't surprised he does so with Cherry. He's painfully hard, his foreskin stretched flat and the sensitive head fully exposed.
Jai's chest rises and falls, he tells himself to keep himself still, to not agitate the wound, but his head is melting, his temples and ears fuzzy and warm. His balls are full and tight, swollen and drawn up. He's so close, Cherry just watches him, his small pink tongue peaking through his lips. Jai’s eyes scan him from head to knee, the soft almost invisible hair on his chest, the downy hair on his thighs, the way his belly jumps as his arm moves. He’s beautiful like this. His eyes, dark and deep, framed by long dark lashes and his crooked smile. Jai feels lost in him for a moment, so full of need and want. He has the sudden thought he wants to hold him again. To have everything. Cherry continues to pull and tug and looks nervous before speaking.
"Should I use my mouth?" Cherry's voice is so sweet and comes out in a breath.
Jai’s hips stutter and his throat warbles out a cry. The pleasure crests and Jai's eyes nearly roll to the back of his head. Warmth explodes at his pelvis, concentrated under his belly. The orgasm is strong, long white ropes of cum jumping out to land on his belly. Cherry strokes him through it as wave after wave of pleasure washes over him, his foreskin being pulled up and over, tugging out more cum with each pull. Jai's voice cracks and he tries to pull away from the touch, already too sensitive. It’s the best orgasm of Jai’s life.
Cherry pulls his hand back and it’s sticky and white, his nose scrunches but he smiles. They both do, warm and full of light in the colored room. Jai reaches blindly for anything near him, he comes up with a scarf and wipes them both clean, drawing the fabric slowly over Cherry’s palm, it feels kind. They bask in their afterglow, Cherry draws his trousers back up and looks around for his kurta. Jai clicks his tongue and motions for him to come closer. With his shirt tugged back on, Cherry all but collapses back into Jai’s arms, snuggling close and sharing warmth. The kiss is sweet and easy when their mouths find each other. They decide not to say anything and just feel each other breathe.
“It wasn’t the Srinivasa brothers." Kaakha clears his throat and sips his chai. Jai draws two fingers over his mustache, annoyed.
“Vibhishana was just as shocked as we were. It was an attack on us both.” Jai winces and rotates his shoulder, considering the possibilities.
“Why us?” Jai grunts, squeezing the small Chai glass. He finished his own too quickly.
“The coolies in the forest. We were supplying the family with inventory while they were trying to negotiate. It was misguided but they were desperate. It apparently worked for them. Their little flower leads them with an iron fist.” Kaakha scoffs at the idea but he’s seen dynasties come down over simpler things.
“So we still have a ra-rat. They would still need our meet time and location, it changed mu-mu-multiple times that month. Someone close.” Jai taps his fingers against the glass and sighs.
“We’ve had them before.” Kaakha grins and stretches his back.
“I was younger then.” Jai winces again, he overdid it in the theater room and now he’s paying for it.
“You should still be in bed” Kaakha looks annoyed now too. It wasn’t the first time he had to hold Jai’s blood in, but that night was particularly messy.
Jai tries not to think about it, and honestly, he doesn’t remember as much as he would like to. Only Kaakha’s orders, Cherry’s hands and eyes, and small sounds. He shelves it in the back of his heart, something to worry about later.
“It’s already been too long, we need to take care of this now. Have you spoken to Vibhishana?” Jai asks and stands to walk, motioning for Kaakha to join him.
“It’s going to be a lot of work to repair the partnership, but they are willing.” Kaakha sighs. Jai smiles.
It’s early, he knows he should be up and moving, getting ready for his work, but the soft blue glow in his room is too alluring, too gentle to move around in. The nightmares are back. He isn’t surprised. His father’s neck, too big for his hands to hold, pulsing with blood. His mother’s weak words, trying to comfort him after his father dies, while she is dying too. He did nothing but lie there until Babai walked in with police. It isn’t anything more than that, just a memory on a loop, pulling and scratching at his heart. The worst part is waking up, and realizing it’s all true, and he can’t find comfort in them. He longs to hold them both again, he doesn’t know how you can miss someone so much after so long.
So Cherry sits with the feeling, lies with it in the protection of his bed, his fingers playing with the sheets. He cries, they aren’t loud or angry, just quiet tears on clean sheets. He cries for Jeevi too. They knew so little about each other and still it’s a hole inside of him now. Cherry feels an ache in his arms, desperate for someone to hold him. He scoffs at the lie of “someone”. He wonders wildly how terrible it would be to find Jai right now, beg him for comfort, just his smell, just the warmth of his skin. He isn’t so naive to think he can. Jai has a wall up, Cherry knows it now, but how tempting it can be to try and tear them down.
He thinks of their time in the theater room yesterday, the warmth and safety, hoping the memory will blot out the ones filled with blood, his mother and father, Jai’s chest open, and his skin pale. He thinks harder. Jai’s hand on his bottom, Jai’s thick, hard cock in his hand.
Cherry’s tears dry and heat blooms in his belly. He lets a hand snake between his body and the bed, reaching for himself when there’s a pound on his door. He jolts, now cranky and cold, it’s too early for him to be late and too late for anyone now on their way to their post. He rolls himself out of bed and falls to the floor with a thump, scrabbling to answer the still-pounding door. When he swings it open he’s annoyed when he sees Shatru.
“Good morning” Shatru grins and raises a lockbox. “Ready for practice?”
Cherry understands now why people like guns, the adrenaline, the relief after each shot, it’s soothing in a strange way. He doesn’t worry about Jai’s attention, his dead parents, or Jeevi’s open skull. It’s just Cherry and a bullet. He’s still a terrible shot though. Shatru laughs as he misses the target three times in a row. Shatru gives the same instructions over and over but Cherry feels terrible at this. It would be embarrassing if it weren’t so fun. Cherry has to resist the urge to laugh out in joy after every squeeze of his finger. The power and sound, the safety he suddenly feels knowing he can protect himself if he needs to. It’s intoxicating. Cherry yanks the ear protection off his head once his clip empties, looking to Shatru for permission. Shatru wobbles his head and smiles, lifting an eyebrow.
“You aren’t getting much better. Maybe you just need time.” Shatru offers unconvincingly. Cherry shrugs and frowns. He’s wary of Shatru now. Not scared, but unsure. That night changed a lot of things for Cherry and he’s decided to keep himself safe.
“Go. Jai will need his Chai soon.” Shatru knocks his head and walks out to change the paper target.
Cherry clears his throat and gathers his things, he makes his way to the weapons shed near the outdoor range and sits at the small table to clean his pistol and lock it away. He’s so focused on his task that he doesn’t hear when someone enters the shed to stand behind him. He smells Sekhar before he sees him and turns quickly when he hears him click his tongue.
“Such a small thing eh? Doesn’t trust you with a real gun?” Shatru mocks.
Cherry only breathes and braces himself. Sekhar steps back and leans against a shelf, pulling out a beedi to suck on. Cherry only watches him, slowly moving to put the pistol away, hoping to leave the shed as quickly as he can. He knows Sekhar is loyal to Jai, saving his life that night, but he still doesn’t trust him. With the gun away, Cherry moves to leave and Sekhar blocks his path.
“Hey, hey! We never talk. I miss you little fruit .” Sekhar smiles again, his crooked teeth showing. Cherry calls the dark tooth rotted in his mind and then winces at the smell.
“You and Raavan are so close now? You look so sweet on him.” Sekhar draws a finger down Cherry’s cheek, admiring the soft skin, enraged at the color.
Cherry shifts back and snarls. He tries to push past Sekhar again and fails. They seem roughly the same size but Sekhar is all tight corded muscle, a wiry strength Cherry admires. Cherry lets out a frustrated breath and starts to feel panic rise in his chest. The shed is closed and dark, Shatru is probably gone inside by now and Jai is on the other side of the haveli waiting for chai. Cherry watches as the light from the early sun streams in through cracks in the shed’s wooden walls, the one lightbulb swings over them, casting strange shadows around.
“What do you want? I need to get to work.” Cherry tries to keep his voice small. He doesn’t want to start anything. He and Jai are fragile right now, new and sweet, he doesn’t want to ruin that. When Sekhar responds, he drops his voice low. It sounds dangerous.
“I know what kind of work you do. What they all do in there. Jai doesn’t keep it secret.” Sekhar spits to his left, the color of it is dark.
“He used to share you know. Pass little baludu around like candy. Does he share you too?” Sekhar laughs wide and ugly and presses closer. Cherry’s eyes wash with rage and his pupils dilate.
“Why Cherry?” Shatru’s hand snaps out and he grabs at Cherry’s jaw, squeezing his cheeks and forcing his mouth into a pout, his lips twisted and plump.
“Is that what you taste like?” Shatru hisses.
Cherry struggles but Sekhar is too fast, he presses them against the little table and kisses Cherry. It’s hard and angry and disgusting. Cherry pushes and fights but Sekhar won’t move, when Cherry feels Sekhar’s tongue he opens his jaw and bites down. Sekhar yells out and Shoves at Cherry, pushing him into the table. Sekhar holds his hand to his mouth and when moves it comes back crimson.
“ Pandi! ” Sekhar yells it.
When Cherry looks up Sekhar slaps him hard across the face. Cherry nearly gets the wind knocked out of him, and he falls against the table again, time moves slowly and everything sounds muffled, he feels his hand cover something hard and before he knows what’s happening he’s swinging, yelling through it. He looks down, and the lightbulb continues to swing around, casting shadows. Cherry looks at his hand, there's a hammer in it and Sekhar is lying at his feet, blood pooling under his head.
Jai’s meeting is going better than expected. Tapan was right, the local police know very little and it takes even less to bribe them off of what they do know. The MP takes a little more convincing, but it’s an annoyance at best. He lets them complain and demand respect, but it isn’t something that’s difficult to give, even if it is performative. What is difficult is his shoulder. He needs to keep it still, to keep his face schooled, they can’t see him wince in pain or move stiffly as though injured. This meeting, while easy, is still important.
Jai lets Kaakha take care of most of it. Jai is there to look commanding, to flaunt his power and strength, to showcase Tapan and Shatru behind him. He makes a small noise and looks at Shatru, his eyes asking with anger why Sekhar isn’t with them. He normally doesn’t make meetings but today was specifically with the local force Sekhar works closely with, the officers who turn their eyes as Sekhar conducts his business with his men in the street. He knows the situation with Sekhar is getting worse but he refuses to say it, especially after he saved Jai’s life. Jai breathes out and decides to deal with it later, letting Shatru take Sekhar’s questions.
The meeting begins to break, they each offer a quick namaste and turn to leave when Jai hears clamoring and sharp breathing coming down the hallway. He stands slowly and freezes as Cherry nearly trips into the room, his brow wet with sweat, his eyes wild, and a red welt blooming on his face. Jai moves quickly when he sees the small smear of blood on his fingers. He reaches Cherry and grabs his arm, pulling him back into the hallway before calling out over his shoulder.
“Tapan please show our guests ou-out.” Jai moves them both into the hallway and tugs on Cherry to face him.
“I think I killed Sekhar.” Cherry squeaks, his face filled with terror and worry, his breathing ragged. Jai’s eyes widen to the size of saucers and he frowns.
“You think?! ” He says it with more anger than he should have or more than he would have liked to. Cherry winces and his eyes start to shine with unshed tears. He lowers his gaze in shame and Jai loosens his grip on his arm.
“Show me.”
They stand there for a moment before moving. Jai, Shatru, and Cherry. Sekhar lies crumpled on the floor, bleeding into a large pool. Shatru breaks the stillness and bends to check Sekhar’s pulse.
“He’s alive.” Shatru sighs and looks at both Jai and Cherry with frustration. Jai’s expression hardens and he steps forward, nearly shielding Cherry.
“Take him into the bunk lodge and call Das. Do what you can before he gets here.” Jai clenches his fists.
Shatru watches them both for a moment before moving to lift Sekhar, taking him out on his shoulder. Jai moves into the shed and stands over the blood. He squats down slowly and grunts at the pull on his shoulder. He reaches for the bloodied hammer and examines it before standing. He keeps his back to Cherry when he speaks.
“Go to my room. You will cl-clean this later.” Jai says it with force. Cherry winces and pulls at his hands, still trembling from the attack.
“Maharaj-” It’s the first time Cherry uses the honorific. Jai hates it.
“ Now! ” It comes out like a growl.
The room is quiet and the curtains are drawn, keeping the light out. Cherry shudders with worry, wringing his hands near his belly. His throat feels tight and his eyes burn. He’s terrified of this. Not of Jai, of disappointing him. He tried pacing the room but it made him feel worse. Now he sits patiently on the bed, the thick mattress feels nice but he can only think of whatever anger might meet him when Jai comes. He hears the soft click of Jai's shoes in the hallway and tenses. He’s almost shaking with anticipation when Jai finally opens the door and walks inside. He looks tired but strong, his jaw set tight.
“Sehkar is only unconscious. He will be fine in a few days.” Jai grunts. Cherry lets out a sigh of relief but doesn’t let his tense muscles rest just yet. Jai watches him, still upset.
"The men who killed your parents. Did you lo-look for them?" Jai's voice comes out flat and serious. Cherry startles at the question. He considers lying but realizes he's afraid to.
"Yes." Cherry's voice shakes. Jai steps closer.
"They were in Thailand. That's wh-why you took the job." Jai presses. Cherry's face does something complicated.
"Yes." Cherry's voice is even quieter. Jai steps closer.
"Did you want to kill them?" Jai speaks softer as he gets closer.
"Yes." Cherry nearly sobs it, his face crumpled and lip trembling.
"But you di-didn’t.” Jai’s voice carries warmth this time, sympathy, and comfort. Cherry wants to believe it.
“They were already dead. Killed in a street fight over drugs only 2 years after.” Cherry feels embarrassment and shame. He wants to be small, he wants to hide from this. Jai only sighs, trying to temper the energy between them.
“Why did you hit him? ” Jai demands. Cherry swallows around the stone in his throat and looks up hesitant, still fiddling with his hands.
“He kissed me. I bit him.” Cherry swallows again. “So he hit me. I didn’t mean to use a hammer, it was all I could reach.” Cherry’s voice wavers and Jai’s eyes widen at the confession.
"He said-" Cherry hesitates and pulls at his hands. "You would… share me with your men." Cherry's face pinches. "Do you do that? "
Jai's face twists in disgust but then a memory finds him. He decides not to mention it and focuses on the situation in front of him.
"No. I do not." Jai speaks firmly and Cherry believes him.
Jai's jaw sets tighter and anger colors his expression. He turns and draws a hand over his face, two fingers on his mustache. Cherry stands, wondering if he should beg, apologize, touch Jai’s feet, anything he can do to fix this. Jai reaches the dresser in front of him and presses a fist to the wood, his shoulders tense. He turns then, moving close to Cherry. Cherry looks so sad, so upset, and he drops his gaze down in shame. Jai schools his face, letting the bite of anger fade, but speaks in a firm tone.
“Sekhar is the kind of man I can’t lose. He’s essential to my wo-wo-work. Men like him do things men like you can’t. ” Jai stresses. The insult stings, Cherry’s face crumples again at hearing it, and his shoulders draw up.
Jai puts his thumb to Cherry's pulse and presses gently. Cherry looks up.
"Some things, I'm not even sure I co-could do." Cherry makes a small noise, his face a confused mix of emotions.
“I’ve known Sekhar the longest. Since we were ch-ch-children. He saved my life. Not just that night .” Jai explains. The last phrase comes out thin. The look on Cherry’s face, difficult memories flooding back, makes Jai’s chest ache with regret.
“If he to-touches you again.” Jai swallows and breathes. “You put a knife in his throat.”
Cherry’s startles, tears falling now, his eyes wide and lips trembling. The kiss happens so fast, Cherry flings himself into Jai’s arms, pressing his mouth open and hot. Jai doesn't resist, he's too tired to think, too worn out from today’s events. He feels pain in his shoulder but ignores it. Cherry softens but keeps kissing, desperate for it. Jai can only hold Cherry with one arm but he holds him and presses as close as he can. Their mouths move together, hungry and soft. Cherry moans and clings where he can, trying to remember Jai’s shoulder, trying to get closer, to get inside.
It happens quickly this time, Jai starts pulling at clothing with one hand, tearing at his trousers, throwing them off, and pressing his hard length against Cherry’s. He couldn't see him like this before, swollen and flushed. Cherry's cock is short and thick, dark and pointing out, rigid with arousal. His foreskin stretches, but still covers all but the pink end, a halo of color. It's beautiful. It’s perfect. Jai groans and moves them both with one hand gripping Cherry’s Kurta. Jai presses Cherry against the bed canopy, the wooden post moves and creaks but holds. Jai knows he can’t keep himself up in any position on the bed so they will stand. It will be uncomfortable but he wants Cherry so badly, he always wants Cherry.
Jai yanks further on Cherry’s pants, pulling at underwear until they slip to his knees. Jai marvels at Cherry's thighs, they look strong and full, he wants to smack them and watch the muscles quiver. Instead, he pushes up their kurtas and presses their bare bodies together. Jai can’t take his own top off without a struggle so Cherry’s can stay on too. Jai grips the post for balance and thrusts against Cherry, groaning low and deep as their cocks and bellies slide together. The noise Cherry makes is high and thin, he wraps his hands around Jai’s back and grips the bunched fabric of their clothing as they shift and move. He tries to spread his legs further, it's difficult with his knees trapped in fabric. Cherry’s face colors and his mouth gapes, the bedpost digs into Cherry’s back and he whines in frustration. Jai starts to thrust in a rhythm and the post rocks. He groans at the sensation, the wet heat of Cherry’s dripping cock, the damp sweat that gathers where their bodies join, it isn’t enough, and Cherry can’t keep still like this.
Jai uses one hand to turn Cherry who nearly trips in rotation, trapped in bunched clothing. Jai moves Cherry's wandering hand to the post, then the other, Cherry grips it and hugs it tight. He wiggles to try and push back against Jai but he finds nothing behind him, when he turns, he sees Jai at his dresser, pulling at drawers and searching. Cherry makes a noise of protest but Jai moves back quickly once he finds it.
Cherry turns again, hiding himself in the post, feeling exposed like this. He hears a small sound, a plastic click, and then wet, Cherry turns his head and finds Jai stroking his cock, tossing a crushed tube at the bed and then grabbing roughly at Cherry's hip. Cherry experiences a moment of panic, thinking Jai will be rough, this will be too fast and painful. Even worse, Cherry scares himself with how easily he decides to allow it. The worries dissipate when Cherry feels soft lips on his shoulder and a reassuring hum. Jai slots a hand between Cherry's thighs and spreads slick there, it's cold and Cherry groans, realization flooding in.
“Keep your thighs together” Jai’s voice is hoarse. Cherry only hums and grips the bedpost. Jai slots himself there and starts to thrust. It feels so filthy, so wet and warm, Jai’s cock pushing through his legs, One hand gripping his hip, and the deep grunts at his back. Cherry lets himself feel it and lets his mouth fall open in a cry.
Jai trembles against the tight heat, his legs already shaking with the strain of standing. He watches his cock slip in and out, the sight is unbearable, Cherry’s perfect bottom bouncing against his hips, the soft hair there brushing against his belly. The skin is tight and the pressure is perfect, it feels so wet and hot and Jai goes wild wondering what Cherry will feel like inside. When Jai finally has the strength and time to stretch him open and slot his cock in properly, his hips stutter at the thought and he feels himself throb.
Jai lets out a sound he isn’t used to. He mouths at Cherry’s neck and shoulder. He wants to hold him properly, but his other arm is useless. Cherry helps, pushing his hips back, letting Jai take what he wants and enjoying it himself.
The sensation of Jai grazing Cherry’s perineum and balls makes them both wild with need. The sound of slapping wet skin fills the room and they both blush. Cherry’s hands still grip the bedpost tight but he pulls one away to grab at himself. He wails at the touch, dragging a hand up and down his sensitive cock, already so close. Jai bends himself to watch, growling at the sight of Cherry’s hard cock slipping in and out of his closed fist. Jai slows and reaches around, spreading slick on Cherry's cock. Cherry moans at the new feeling, wet and smooth. Jai returns his wet hand to Cherry's hip and starts pounding his hips harder, his orgasm building. Cherry shudders at the thought of Jai fucking him like this, fitting inside of him, taking what he wants, and being a little rough. Cherry wants it so badly, his hand squeezes tighter and his wrist speeds up. His cock feels tight and so hard it hurts. Jai feels the same.
They meet each other in the end, Cherry feels that familiar explosion of warmth, he moans high and desperate, his fist clenching wood and his cheek nearly pressed to the post. His fist moves frantically over his cock, the sensitive flesh throbbing. Thin lines jump out and land near his feet. Chery wails through it, begging again, wanting more and more and more. His pelvis trembles and juts as the flood of pleasure fills his blood.
Jai groans long and hard as his hips lock. The orgasm racing down his spine, to his cock and Cherry feels Jai’s sticky cum on his thighs. Jai pumps through it, each thrust a pulse of warmth. He warbles and grunts and ends on a high moan. They both sag against each other. Jai’s lips return to Cherry's skin, soft and easy.
Cherry turns slowly, Feeling Jai’s cock slip from his thighs, wanting Jai’s mouth again. His sore arms wrap slowly around Jai. Slotting them together like puzzle pieces. The kiss is warm and fuzzy and they pant through it, slick with sweat and lubricant. Jai does move him to the bed eventually and tries awkwardly to join him in a position that doesn’t hurt. Cherry can only feel hands and lips and eventually a warm cloth on his skin. Through tired eyes and with his cheek pressed against soft bedding, Cherry sees what looks like a bundle of vines in a pot on the window sill. Cherry wonders why Jai would keep a dead plant near a window with its curtains drawn.
Cherry will fall asleep here and when he wakes he will be clean and warm in his own room. Alone.
Jai enters the lodge's sick room loudly. He grips the end of Sekhar’s sickbed, lifts the tail high off the ground then drops it with a thunk, jolting Sekhar awake with a groan. Sekhar tentatively touches the bandage on his head and registers pain and nausea as his senses return to him. Jai drags a wooden chair across the floor to sit, the sound a screech in the small room. Sekhar winces and grips his ears before recognition dawns and memories flood back. Sekhar scoffs when Jai sits, the weight of his movements hinting anger and frustration.
“I was a bad puppy. ” Sekhar’s voice is a whisper but he smiles, slanted and ugly. Jai snarls and his fist grips the arm of the chair tightly.
"You saved my life. I trust you and I need you but this th-th-thing between you and him ends now. " Jai's voice is low, leaving no room for argument. Sekhar scoffs.
"It's only boys being rough. He is new. It went too far." Sekhar grins and it looks like a lie. "Sorry, Maharaj."
Jai pulls a finger under his mustache and stands. He lifts the chair and slams it back to the floor. The sound is loud. Sekhar startles this time, then winces at the pain that shoots through his temple.
"I won't punish you. I've gi-gi-given you a warning." Jai says. Sekhar's face drops slightly and he listens.
"I won't stop him from killing you." Jai hisses and leaves, fast, slamming the door behind him.
Sekhar scoffs and lets his eyes well with tears.
Cherry dreams in between sleeping and waking. It's a different nightmare. He's on the back of Jeevis' bike at night. The moon their only light. The world above the road is only stars and mist, colored by the fluttering reflection of stained glass.
They are driving so fast, wind whips Cherry's hair around. Cherry tries to speak but Jeevi wont turn to him. He can only hold him, hold on. He squeezes Jeevi's middle and presses his cheek to Jeevis' back. It smells like leather and spice. Cherry sobs into it. He's scared and Jeevi won't speak.
When Cherry looks up he sees a man standing in the road. It's a shadow, a silhouette, and it moves like a paper cut-out. Like the reflecting light of a spinning shadow lamp. In motion but not moving, always ahead. Cherry realizes they are driving in a circle, a loop that allows the shadow to exist.
Suddenly the shadow materializes and stops, it forms itself as Sekhar and pulls a sickle from his back, raising it high, polished red. They pass him and he swipes the blade, cutting Jeevi's throat. Jeevis's blood sprays into the mist and the bike crashes. Jeevis blood paints the moon and the moon casts a red blanket over them all. A moon made of thick crimson glass filtering the road.
Cherry has his hands on Jeevi's neck, the blood pushing through his fingers. Cherry tries to cry but makes no sound. When Cherry turns to look at Sekhar the shadow has already shifted. It walks slowly through shattered glass and rubble in the road, brandishing the sickle. Flickering light and dark from the shadow lamp. Cherry trembles, his hair fallen over his face as he draws his eyes up to look. The sickle is raised and the shadow is still.
The face that greets him isn't Sekhar.
It's Jai. Raavan .
Baludu: Young Boy
Pandi: Pig
Chapter 8: Chandu
Summary:
Jai unfolds for Cherry.
Chapter Text
It isn't exactly a surprise that the shop is empty today. His wife had warned him the festival across town would keep everyone too busy to go shopping. The owner, a short affable man, checks his wristwatch and wonders if closing early today would be best. His wife is preparing his favorite dish for dinner and if he leaves now he can enjoy the way the house fills with the smell of food. He can hold her and embrace the feel of her kind hands, rough from years of hot roti. As soon as he reaches for his keys, there is a sudden creak of wood and loud footsteps. A customer! The shopkeep rejoices and pats at his hair and kurta.
The customer is… large. He is tall and wide and strong, dressed entirely in black and wearing dark shades. The shopkeep tries to smile but stops when the man steps to the side and a shorter man enters the shop behind him, also wearing dark shades. This man is dressed very well. His clothing is tailored and bright, finely stitched from expensive fabric and beautiful trim. The style of his clothing is a modern take on traditional wear, sleek with clean lines and of high-quality design. Everything looks expensive, from his clothes to his shoes, to the modest jewelry on his fingers and wrist. The shopkeep giggles to himself as he realizes, this man has money.
"Welcome in! Anything you are looking for today I can help find?" The shopkeep smiles brightly and takes a few steps towards them, keeping his hands folded primly.
The sharp man looks to his friend, the tall wide man in black, then to the shopkeep, then turns to the coat rack near the wall and starts to browse.
"Ah, yes. All of our pieces are high-label vintage, mostly preserved in their original condition! Some have a few restorative alterations but you will find the work seamless!" The shopkeep smiles again and when he gets no answer from the sharp man, he turns graciously to wait, pretending to adjust other racks.
Jai browses the clothes gently, he respects their value and uses a soft touch to check their quality and constitution. He eventually finds himself drawn to a sleek black sherwani, something long and modest enough to wear in the evening. The stitching looks old but cared for, and the design is clean and stylish.
"Oh! A perfect choice." The shopkeep appears seemingly from nowhere. Jai would jump if he were anyone else.
"A very early Abu Jani. Not quite the maximalism he’s now known for, but the craftsmanship is there.” The shopkeep pauses and holds a hand out. “If I may?”
He reaches past Jai to gently pull open the buttons, revealing the inner fabric. Inside is a swath of inlet embroidery, glittering gold against black ink. Jai touches it gently, impressed. It's a perfect piece, beautiful and flattering, but it isn't what he's looking for. He sighs, disappointed at knowing this won't work, and asks the shopkeep if he has anything more modern.
The small man shows him to a back area with more late-century pieces, gaudy and bright. Jai browses gently but stops when he sees it. The jacket sleeve pushes out of the rack, bright and ugly, waving him over. Jai sighs again and looks at the shopkeep before pointing to it.
"Ah! Yes, a proper staple in the 90's. Of course, it's genuine, imported from the west I believe, it's been here for so long. Mink? if I remember correctly." The shopkeep looks nervous, Jai isn't surprised. He touches the sleeve gently, it is in very good condition and is soft like butter. Jai isn't exactly sure if this would be considered against Ahimsa But… It's perfect.
"This one instead then?" The shopkeep asks gently. Jai hums.
"Both."
Cherry wonders if it will always be like this. The 27th of October. The storm outside his window is torture. The rain usually starts to let up this time of year but just like that night almost 14 years ago, it’s wet and heavy. That awful night he still dreams about. It’s been almost a week since the incident with Sekhar and as each day passed he found himself more withdrawn, avoiding Jai in the havelli, favoring the quiet of his room to anything else. He prefers to be alone on the 27th, and the 28th for that matter. A cruel joke from the universe that every year both dates are one after the other.
Cherry enjoys the solitude of his room today. It’s ‘free day’ again and he has opted to not spend the day with the other men in town. He's grateful he doesn't have to work on the 27th, or the 28th because of the festival. He finds more comfort today in his bed, his fingers playing with the small Cheetah figurine from his mother, the slick porcelain feels cool and strong. He misses her so much today. He has nothing of his father’s except the love he knows was there for him. He wonders if he would still have that love today, if his father could see who he is now.
He’s put his tablet propped up on a tiny stool, playing his favorite Sridevi film again. It comforts him on the 27th, the soft and carefree love, the happy ending. She is so beautiful when she cries, Cherry thinks. Cherry wipes at the little tears that tumble down his cheeks and he sniffs. He considers sleep might be the best solution to a difficult day like the 27th when there is a knock at his door. It’s soft and respectful, unlike Shatru’s loud pounding. Cherry knows it’s Jai before opening his door and feels a wash of relief, suddenly not so adamant about avoiding him.
Jai tries to smile when the door opens but it falls as he sees Cherry’s red-rimmed, glassy eyes and fallen expression. Jai opens his mouth to speak but Cherry turns away, moving back into the room and leaving the door open, an invitation before crawling back into his bed. Jai takes it and walks in, awkwardly standing near the center. He admires Cherry's form, unavoidable even in his sour mood, his loose shirt and small shorts, and the thin shapely legs connected to small ankles and bare feet.
He tries to distract himself, observing how Cherry lives for the first time. He’s pleased to see things are mostly neat and comfortable, but the room is so sparse, nothing much save for the small tablet playing a video on speaker and Cherry’s ratty faux Cheetah jacket hanging on a hook. Jai squints at it, hoping he can will it to catch fire.
Cherry moves gently on the bed, making room for Jai, and folds his hands over his crossed legs gently, pretending to watch the movie. Jai joins him, there is tension in the air and he needs to approach with caution.
"I know what today is Chinni." Jai says. The words are gentle. Cherry huffs and clicks his tongue.
"You do. You know everything about me. I know nothing." Cherry doesn't mean for it to come out so sour, but it does and he lets it sit in the air.
Jai lets the words sink in, he knows it's true, Jai has given so little of himself, but it's something that he's always done, it's safer that way. Still, watching Cherry like this, knowing this kind of pain very well, he decides to give a little.
"I only know because-" Jai pauses and swallows. Cherry watches him. He has to be patient as the words come out slowly. "I did not know my fa-father. My mo-mother took ill when I was the age you lost y-yours. I was with her when s-she-" Jai stops, his vocal cords tight, gripped by an invisible fist. He taps a hand to his neck and winces. He puts that same hand over Cherry's as it rests on the bed and hopes Cherry will understand the sentiment, the words he can't get out. Cherry's eyes are round and wet, he turns his hand to press their palms together, understanding.
Jai kisses Cherry softly, only once on the lips, and presses their foreheads together. Cherry feels foolish now, having spoken so sourly, he feels embarrassed. He presses his nose gently to Jai's jaw and tries to hide there. They sit together for a moment, not needing words, listening to the movie as it plays in front of them. When Jai finally pulls back, his eyes catch the figurine, putting a finger on its snout. Cherry makes a happy noise.
"My mother gave it to me. She called me 'Chirutha'." Cherry smiles sweetly.
"Hmm. That explains the ch-cheetah prints." Cherry laughs as Jai raises an eyebrow at the jacket. Jai points to the tablet next.
"Do you need…. a television?" Jai asks awkwardly.
"Eh? For what. It works good! It plays my music too." Cherry smiles a little brighter. Jai is always in awe at how easily Cherry can shift his mood, embracing the positives as they show themselves.
"You don't like gifts?" Jai asks playfully. Cherry bites his lip. "I have so-something for you." Jai explains.
Cherry looks struck as Jai stands from the bed and moves towards the door. He steps out into the hallway to grab a wide shopping bag and brings it inside. Cherry sits up straighter, his lips parted and eyes filled with excitement. He rises up on his knees, stretching his neck for a peak. Jai huffs and places the bag gently on the bed, removing a large black gift box from inside. Cherry makes a small noise, filled with air and happiness.
"I know what tomorrow is too." Jai whispers. Cherry's excitement softens and he sways his head gently. Jai tilts his head toward the box in encouragement. Cherry reaches for it and pulls at the lid, setting it aside to part the bright tissue paper and reveal what's inside.
The noise Cherry makes is so genuine it almost embarrasses him, filled with surprise and a silly laugh. Inside, folded gently, is a modest fur jacket similar to the one resting on the hook behind them. The cheetah print is rich and vibrant and the jacket is light, simple cut and velvet trim at the collar and sleeves. Cherry grabs it and pushes his face into it, nearly bouncing. Jai smiles at the reaction and speaks as Cherry moves to try it on.
"It comes with o-o-one condition," Jai says. Cherry pauses and waits, wide-eyed. "This replaces the other." Jai's chin points to the ratty imitation hanging from the hook.
"I can't have two?!" Cherry jokes. Jai resists the urge to laugh with him and barks.
"That one isn't yours! It's from the closet. Did Shatru te-te-tell you how it got there?" Jai asks. Cherry looks confused.
"It was left here by so-someone Shatru brought back." Jai clicks his tongue. "A woman Cherry. One who decided to ne-never come back for it." Jai smiles at Cherry's expression.
"Is that why they laughed at me for wearing it?!" Cherry squeals, then covers his face in his hands. Jai moves to sit with him and helps adjust the collar as they both laugh.
"You like it?" Jai asks. Cherry sways his head, yes, still smiling. The moment is soft and Cherry kisses a thank you on Jai's cheek. They turn to the tablet as the movie continues, the group of rowdy's have found Satya and Chandu in the forest and threaten Satya with a pistol. Jai turns to Cherry, watching his profile, admiring his beauty before clearing his throat.
"I am sorry for how things went with Sekhar. I sh-sh-should not have cornered you." Jai swallows and speaks with sincerity and caution.
Cherry is confused. He thought things went well that night, considering. Cherry only sways his head and smiles, unsure how to respond. Jai reaches into his vest pocket and retrieves a folded set of papers, he pulls them open to reveal reports with photos.
"I had my contacts check with multiple au-au-authorities. Mattu Bhai is dead and so are most of his men. It was a large-scale sting operation in Th-Thailand that went sour. Two years after killing your parents. I've seen the photos of his body and can show you them if you w-wish." Jai holds the report out but Cherry doesn't reach for it.
"There was another man, with a smaller operation, working in Thailand under his name. It would explain the bad in-information you received from prisoners that he was still alive." Jai returns the report to his vest. Cherry wipes at the tear that slips down his cheek.
"Are you upset it wasn't you wh-wh-who killed him?" Jai asks it without judgment. Cherry sniffs and sighs.
"No." Cherry's voice is small, he feels a rush of frustration, he's sick of always feeling so small. He pulls the jacket around himself tighter.
"I feel nothing." Cherry confesses, and tries to stiffen his spine.
"Good." Jai's voice feels like a tall pillar, something solid to lean against.
"There is no romance in killing. You've se-seen what it looks like. It should not bring relief." Jai places a hand gently on Cherry's thigh. Cherry watches him with open eyes, trust.
"Sekhar is prohibited from the grounds until I ch-change my mind. I've given him work that will keep him busy in Berhampur." Jai says it in a flat tone that offers comfort in its finality.
"I am sorry I caused trouble." Cherry rubs at his cheek, his facial hair itchy. Jai shrugs a shoulder and lets the hand on Cherry's thigh travel up before squeezing.
"I meant what I said. If he disobeys or touches you." Jai implores without asking and Cherry sways his head sharply to confirm. Jai hums, his expression turning playful.
"I do like a little trouble." Jai smiles in a way that only one side of his mustache turns up. Cherry laughs in two breaths and his face colors. Jai eases into a more serious expression as he remembers something.
"We need to talk. I need to know a few more th-things." Cherry's brows knit and he bites at his lip.
"When you came here." Jai pauses and clears his throat. "Were you a virgin?" Jai deadpans. Cherry makes a sudden noise and chokes. He lets out an awkward laugh and his face flushes. Jai keeps his face schooled and waits patiently.
"Your-you eh." Cherry licks his lips, falling over his own words. "I tried, after getting out, but they went bad." Cherry winces, feeling stupid.
"Can you tell me? Please." Jai tries to soften his approach, speaking gently. Cherry makes a long uncomfortable noise and his shoulders draw up.
"Only kissing until I got out. There were men inside but-" Cherry's face scrunches and he sways his head erratically. "No, no." Jai stays silent and gives him space to speak.
"There was a girl in Thailand but we never. We didn't." Cherry shakes his head at the memories, the insults, and rejection. He explains his time with Sanjana, working for her wealthy father as a bodyguard and showing her Thailand. He is brief with her cruelty and spoiled behavior and only ghosts over the time they spent at sea. Cherry catches a glint of pride in Jai's eyes when he describes throwing her from the boat and leaving to return to India. Cherry pauses and scratches at a knee before he continues.
"When I went home to Hyderabad. A man. Another auto driver, in my tuk-tuk." Cherry cringes, upset he's having so much trouble talking openly about sex when he's already done so much with Jai.
"We didn't-I didn't even. He got scared, sounds of people I think. He jumped out and ran off." Cherry clicks his tongue and tilts his head, exasperated. "He made sure he finished first-chi."
"You didn't?" Jai asks with care. Cherry confirms he did not. Jai grunts, disappointed. Cherry sinks.
"You used your ha-hands? On each other?" Jai asks. Cherry sways his head, yes, hoping this conversation ends soon. Jai accepts the short responses, not wanting to push.
"Anybody else?" Jai asks. Cherry bites his lip again, looking worried.
"A woman. In a nightclub. She took me home." Cherry whispers it sweet and shy, clenching his own thigh under Jai's palm. Jai does his best to keep his expression neutral, resisting the urge to smile at how endearing Cherry's bashfulness is. Jai raises an eyebrow instead, asking Cherry to explain further.
"We weren't drunk but-" Cherry swallows and looks at his hands. "I think it was bad." Jai only hums, a knowing expression crossing his face.
"Most men are, their first time with a wo-woman." Cherry only shrugs and scrunches his nose.
"She didn't say anything, but her face looked-I had to stop." Jai resists the urge to smirk, he isn't surprised Cherry's experiences have been stunted, but to know so much awkward failure preceded the very good, very fulfilling sex he's had with Jai, causes an arousing swell of pride.
"You didn't fi-finish with her either." Jai states it as a fact, not a question. Cherry groans and looks away from Jai's gaze, focusing on his hands. Jai makes a soft noise and turns Cherry back to look at him with a finger at his chin.
"Why are you upset? This isn't a pr-pr-problem anymore." Jai does let himself smirk this time and enjoys Cherry's smug smile.
"Remember I said I need to know where my men co-co-come from, for things to run sm-smoothly. That works with lovers too." Cherry agrees with a grunt and shifts uncomfortably.
"Thank you for telling me." Jai reaches for the collar of Cherry's shirt, under the jacket, pulling them both gently and giving Cherry's bare shoulder a small kiss. Cherry scoffs and hides his blush. Jai's hand reaches to Cherry's neck, his fingers brushing his ear and knocking the thin gold ring in his lobe.
"I like these." He says wistfully. Cherry smiles, pleased. "Have you considered mo-mo-more? Two rings next to each other?" Jai asks. Cherry huffs.
"Maybe. I have another, but I lost the ring." Jai raises an eyebrow in question and Cherry twists his mouth.
"It's not very good." He explains. Jai's eyebrows knit together. Cherry pauses and hums before parting his lips and gently pushing his tongue out. Jai's genuinely surprised when he finds a small slit in the pink muscle and an indent where a ring once sat. Cherry pulls his tongue back in and looks embarrassed.
"It was something stupid when I got home from Thailand. I didn't think you would like that kind of thing." Cherry says. Jai's mouth turns on one side and he laughs.
"What?" Cherry asks, confused.
Jai pulls at the top buttons of his kurta, exposing skin and dark hair, he reaches for Cherry's wrist and guides it to slip inside, pulling Cherry's hand to his chest. Cherry gasps softly as his fingers find a nipple and the feeling of slim, cool metal. He looks surprised and laughs. Jai smiles with him, but then Cherry thinks of something, and his face pinches.
"But I've seen you before-" Cherry whispers.
"That night in my room." Jai pauses for effect and Cherry's ears burn. "It was too dark, you must have mi-missed them. I keep them small." Jai explains. Cherry sways his head in understanding and pushes at the ring gently, curious. Jai's smirk widens.
"The night in the hall." Jai swallows as Cherry wilts, uncomfortable with those memories. "I never wear them for a job, just to be sa-safe." Cherry's hand moves gently to the other side of Jai's chest and ghosts over the bandages on his wounded shoulder.
"Does it still hurt?" Cherry's voice is small and he keeps his eyes on Jai's chest.
"It's healing." Jai stops for a moment and swallows. "I am sorry. About your friend." Cherry stiffens and a stone drops into his stomach. Jai opens his mouth to speak but Cherry interrupts him, a memory rushing through.
"Nani." Cherry looks at Jai nervously. "There was another man, only kissing but-" He pulls his hand gently from Jai's kurta.
He relays the story, the bar, the drugged drink, Nani's terrifying words, and Jeevi's brave rescue. He omits the washcloth on his back and the bucket, he decides to keep that for himself. Thinking about Jeevi again is exhausting, Cherry's face folds and he leans into Jai, seeking comfort. Jai is quiet, Like stone.
"I don't do business with men like that. You know that right?" Cherry looks up at Jai in wonder. Jai spoke the words like they weren't enough, like there was an emotion in them he isn't used to sharing. Cherry sways his head yes and tries to smile. Jai's face eases, and he grabs Cherry's wrist again, pushing it over his kurta and against the other nipple. Cherry laughs.
"You have both!" Jai laughs too.
Cherry takes in the moment, the softness, the comfort, He looks up at Jai with gratitude and affection, he feels a sudden overwhelming sense of gratefulness. It's difficult to explain how much it all means to him, so difficult it's hard to take everything in. The intimacy, the jacket, the unfolding secrets, and the time alone. He looks at Jai now with renewed wonder and rising heat.
Jai recognizes that look, he presses his tongue out as he moves, his mouth opening and ready to lap before their lips even meet. It's immediately searing and heavy. Cherry indulges, his fingers start to rub over the thin fabric, pushing and pulling at the metal underneath. Jai growls. There's a tenderness to that sound that Cherry loves, he whimpers against it, his head turning for a deeper kiss, his own tongue flat and wet, exploring with bright lips and panting breaths.
Jai moves them, pushing at Cherry to lie back on the bed, a warm hand rubbing his shoulder and chest, the kisses turn to sweet pecs and Jai nuzzles at Cherry's ear. His shoulder isn't as restrictive anymore and any pain is only a light soreness. He can also finally use the other arm again but he still isn't sure he's ready for anything too strenuous. Jai makes a decision and it sends a pulsing wave of arousal through his body.
"Was she wet?" Jai asks. Cherry startles at the question and groans. A curious hand finds its way down Cherry's body, to pet at the space it finds between Cherry's legs. Jai avoids the hard length and instead presses at the flesh on its side, the crease at his thigh. Jai spreads two fingers and rubs in the shape of a V, Cherry's cock between them. Cherry understands the implication eventually and whines. Jai bites at the earlobe near his mouth and pulls.
"She has to be wet. You have to use your ha-hands or your mouth. Like this." Jai pushes his hand past Cherry's cock to the flat space underneath. He takes a knuckle and rubs deep pressure in circles over Cherry's perineum, through the fabric of his clothing. Cherry groans, a mixture of arousal and humiliation coloring his face.
"You'll know she's ready when she swells. Everything goes pi-pi-pink and fat. Was she like that when you tried to fuck her?" Cherry makes an exasperated noise, his body fighting between the touch between his legs, the heat in his cock, and the embarrassing words whispering in his ear.
"Why-why do you talk like that? You have to say those words?" Cherry asks, his face twisting in pleasure and shame.
"Was her cunt wet when you sl-slipped your fat little cock in her?" Jai growls and finally touches Cherry's length, now tenting his shorts obscenely. Jai squeezes it, suddenly possessive. Cherry wails and covers his bright red face in his hands.
"I don't-no I don't-" Cherry's chest starts to heave and he tries to hide from the question. Jai shushes him, suddenly feeling guilty for the push, and leans over him, closer, pulling his hands away.
"You will be." Jai whispers with affection. "When I fuck you. Wet and pink." The words pass through Cherry's mouth before Jai pushes his tongue in again. This time it's sloppy and filthy, Jai trying to fuck him with his tongue. Cherry makes noise unabashedly, gripping Jai's kurta in a vice. When Jai pulls away, his hand still moving greedily between Cherry's thighs, he whispers at Cherry's ear again.
"I want to give you another gift. Something you've ne-never done?" Jai emphasizes the question with a squeeze of his hand, tender flesh pulsing. Cherry shudders and arches into it.
"Anything you want Pandu." Jai presses the words against Cherry's mouth. Cherry inhales them and puts his teeth to Jai’s lips.
"Your mouth." Cherry says it with confidence and ache. No hesitation. Jai chuckles at the eagerness.
"Hmm, I've wanted that too." Jai kisses gently at Cherry's chin, moving further down.
"Never?" Jai murmurs. Cherry tries to answer, panting through it.
"The Woman. It was only for a little-" Cherry is interrupted as Jai slumps off the bed. He watches Jai hum happily as he kneels. The bed is very short, on his knees it comes to Jai's waist. Cherry does remember the woman's mouth, it's something he's dreamed about, so desperate to feel it again. Jai rubs harder at Cherry's cock, covered in fabric, his hand pushing and petting the swollen flesh like a toy. Cherry arches his back and whimpers.
Jai takes the opportunity. As Cherry's body bends, Jai pulls at the little shorts roughly, yanking them off his hips and exposing his body. Cherry nearly yelps but is too aroused to be shy. He doesn't have time to think as Jai grabs at his hips and pulls him sharply to the edge of the bed. Cherry's legs have to come up and bend for the new position and his arms go up as his body slides down. The fast movement bunches Cherry’s shirt up to his nipples, exposing him further. His pelvis starts to rotate, his cock begging for attention. Jai presses Cherry’s thighs apart and lets his heels and knees rest.
Seeing Cherry’s cock again is as intoxicating as before. Jai is happy to finally be so close, Cherry's smell is strongest here, especially when mixed with the pungent undertone of arousal. It's like earth and wet wood, like brine and lemon. Cherry's cock is bright and stiff, leaking at the tip. Jai wastes no time and mouths it to taste. Cherry shudders and thrusts up, whimpering muffled noises into the crook of his elbow. Cherry tastes like salt and warmth, savory and sour at his throat, like citric acid and yeast. Jai loves it.
Jai's tongue pushes out to lap and press flat against the shaft. Cherry pants and twists, Jai grips his hips firmly and holds him in place then sinks his mouth down and takes Cherry into the hilt. Cherry lets out a long moan into a pillow and grips it tightly. Jai's mouth is Svarga, spongy and plush like velvet. It's wet and tight at the back of his throat and so warm. The molten heat of Jai's mouth is driving him mad, like the woman that night, except it's Jai's mouth and it isn't stopping.
Jai draws his mouth back and forth, sucking and tonguing Cherry's cock like it's candy. Cherry can only hold onto his pillow and feel it, the clench, the heat, the wet slide. It's too much too fast. He's never had this before, his thighs bend further and his hips try to lift. Jai keeps bobbing up and down, making his lips tighter, his throat smaller. Cherry's moans grow louder and he's weakly trying to slap Jai's hand, trying to warn him. His body twists like a garden snake and he lets out a long shakey noise.
The orgasm pulls, exploding like thunder in his abdomen, at his pelvis. Cherry feels his cock pulse in Jai's mouth, flooding the back of his throat with cum. Jai swallows it, keeping the same pace, making Cherry wild with sensation. Cherry's entire body shakes and his hips convulse, the sounds are warbled and high, enough to sound like pain. Jai pulls off with a pop and a smile, rubbing a hand on Cherry's trembling belly.
"That's fine." Jai chuckles. "It's always fast the fi-first time." Cherry doesn't answer, Jai watches Cherry breathe, eyes unfocused, watching something on the ceiling. Cherry's vision shifts, he catches the movie on his tablet. Chandu and Satya dancing in the rain, a sweet kiss and pink chiffon.
Cherry sees it now, the moment for what it is. It's the first time anyone has done this for him. Not the act itself, not the mouth, but the gift. All for Cherry, from start to finish this was for him, to feel good, to have what he wants, to cum. It upsets him. All the sex he's ever had, his orgasm, his participation, was consequential, even with Jai. Rutting at his leg, spilling in his own hand at the post. But this was intentional, this was deliberate. Jai wanted Cherry to cum and that was the only goal. Cherry's expression crumples and he curls into himself, his hands moving to cover his face tightly as Chandu and Satya dance on the tablet.
Jai moves gently, trying to speak through Cherry's sobs. All Cherry can think of is how sad it is, how pathetic, how embarrassing. How awful of a lover he must be, how stupid Jai is to give him this. Jai pulls and gathers Cherry into his arms, pressing him close to his own body. He reaches for Cherry's forehead, brushing at loose hair and trying to pull his hands away. Cherry lets them go but buries his sobs into Jai's neck and collar, not wanting to be seen.
"Let me see. No. Let me." Jai begs, whispering in an even tone, petting the back of Cherry's head, his back, his shoulders.
Cherry turns his head up, sad eyes wet and vulnerable, his nose flushed and cheeks tinted. Jai's face smiles without stretching. Chandu and Satya's song plays for them.
He is so beautiful when he cries. Jai thinks.
When they kiss it's quiet, the song on the tablet is over and Cherry lets the noise of their mouths together serenade him.
The meeting with Vibhishana is difficult. Both groups are armed and on alert. Vibhishana agreed to meet at Lanka, as a sign of trust. However, he brought along The Flower from the forest. The one the coolies chose to represent them. Jai isn't pleased, but The Flower doesn't speak, just watches and smiles. The discussions are curt and strained. They eventually fall into apologies and trading information. Vibhishana is smart and knows he needs Jai in his corner right now. He and The Flower assure them the coolies are being taken care of, their business is changing and they need to work together in a way that keeps everyone happy. Jai doesn't like letting it go but Vibhishana pleads.
"Just this once Maharaj, let us call it an alliance and build this empire together." Vibhishana also offers a trunk of 5 crore INR as penance. Jia doesn't need the money but the show of respect is clear. Jai had made sure to ask about any fourth-party involvement, if the coolies had been working alone, hoping to find out if Srinivasa was involved. Everyone seemed confused by the questioning. Jai can only hope that boasts well for his plan to move forward and to accept that Vibhishana is still someone he can trust.
Jai turns to Kaakha, his eyes seeking advice. Kaakha only sways his head gently, his eyes soft. Jai remembers his mentor's words when he was young. Pride is the lion's cage that traps strong men. Jai lets out a shuddering breath and stands to accept.
They hold Puja to seal the agreement and honor their fallen men, knowing it appeases Jai. Some men are uncomfortable standing at an altar to Raavan but The Flower only smiles and helps break coconut. Jai decides he might be useful.
When everyone leaves and Jai is alone with his men, they discuss everything openly. They agree it was a good move and Tapan explains that things are settled and still with the local police. Shatru assures Jai the men will take it in stride and won't retaliate against their attackers. Kaakha is mostly quiet but speaks up at a lull in the conversation.
"We still have a rat." Kaakha sighs. Jai hums and turns to Shatru who pinches his nose, nearly forgetting that's partly his area. Kaakha intervenes.
"What do we know about the little one? The Abbaya who makes your chai. Perhaps we underestimated him." Kaakha offers. Shatrus eyes dart wildly between them and Tapan fiddles with his bangles.
"We have his history, we know he can be ruthless." Kaakha pauses as Jai studies the furniture around them. "The only one to voice for him is dead." Jai grunts at that and his eyebrows pinch. Shatru speaks up.
"I've got a good read on him. He seems too green. He can fight but, if anything, he doesn't seem to care about the business." Shatru swallows. "He also wasn't around to hear about the meet times."
"The friend could have told him." Kaakha offers. Jai suddenly remembers that morning, catching Chery speaking with Jeevi on a bike. His stomach turns. Tapan interrupts his thoughts.
"Sekhar vouched for the friend." Tapan says. The three of them exchange looks, a number of different unsaid things lie under that statement.
"I'm not sure he killed that child." Shatru speaks slowly. "It reads like a payoff to me."
Jai clears his throat. "It was a sloppy payoff, I know th-that." He turns to Kaakha with a stern expression.
"I'll keep an eye on him, he's too new. You will too." Jai orders. Kaakha sways his head tightly, satisfied. “Shatru will run through the ranks th-thoroughly and report back.” Shatru sways his head too.
They speak on other things, going through various smaller decisions and issues that need Jai's attention. When they break the meeting Kaakha leaves first, late for lunch with his sister. Sekhar and Tapan linger behind. Jai moves toward the hall and his men follow, stopping him from leaving.
"Maharaj, have you thought about what we discussed last week? About Sekhar." Shatru asks. Tapan looks nervous but implores with his eyes. Jai hums exasperated.
"I won't believe that. We've known him since we were children." Jai says. Shatru huffs.
"Now we are men, and he's fallen so distant." Shatru argues. "He seems angry. Disgruntled."
"He's Sekhar, that's who he is." Jai argues.
"Where was he Maharaj?" Tapans' voice is soft and low. "He wasn't there for the trade, or when the fight started, we noticed his absence, and then suddenly he appeared to save you."
"He did save me." Jai says it through gritted teeth. Shatru pulls a hand down his face, frustrated.
"Did you tell Cherry it was Jeevi who shot you?" Shatru asks.
"It was an accident, the boy co-couldn't aim." Jai argues. "No good will come from it, Cherry is still mourning."
"Sekhar killed him for that mistake, knowing the gun fumbled in his hands, knowing he wasn't even aiming. He's only violence now, the Sekhar we knew as children isn't there anymore.” The three of them are silent at that, a sadness at that truth.
"What will you have me do?" Jai asks, at his limit.
"Let me and Shatru dig around. Let us look into Sekhar, if only to clear his name, so we can look for the rat elsewhere." Tapan's voice is even and sure, he was always the rational one, loyal and smart.
"I won't betray Sekhar." Jai says weakly.
"We won't either." Shatru swallows. "Do you trust us?"
Jai is reminded of that night, Shatrus' anger and fear, he trusted Raavan's leadership and fought bravely. Jai sways his head stiffly, giving them his approval. When they turn to leave Jai calls out in Shatru's direction.
"It isn't Cherry. You know that?" Jai asks. Shatru laughs and wobbles his head.
"I watched Cherry chase a beetle to kill it and come back with two beetles behind him. No, it's not Cherry."
Jai scoffs and pulls his small phone out, wondering where the little beetle hunter might be right now.
This is nothing like the dive bar in Kothaguda. Cherry stands in awe of the canteen, bright lights, and textured stone. The tall statues loom dauntingly over everyone there, it looks like a mountain, a palace, a temple. It’s a place to dance and drink and find someone to go home with. The heavy lights wash the space in neon pinks and teals, leaving space for dark shadows and smokey air. The place is buzzing with energy and nearly full of people drinking, laughing, and dancing. A good place to celebrate a birthday.
Cherry follows Shatru and a few of the Lanka guards to the bar. It feels different this time. Shatru looms over him, close and friendly, touching him like a brother, pinching his new jacket. A glint in Shatru's eye suggests he knows who gifted it, but he only smiles and laughs at Cherry's jokes, and doesn’t say anything. Cherry struggles to ignore the memory of Jeevi and his friends. Where Cherry felt like the tail end of a rope with them, here he feels like one of many knots that hold a net together, he feels like he fits.
Shatru brought along a new friend. Ravi. Cherry's mouth nearly gapes when he sees him. He's very tall, 185 at least, with broad shoulders and a thick beard. His mustache curls up like Jai's but he has long thick curls and eyelashes that fan out. His smile is wide and bright, Cherry nearly blushes when he sees it. Ravi is very very attractive, and he won't stop looking at Cherry, clearly just as interested.
They decide to take their drinks to the balcony, to overlook the wide space as it vibrates. Cherry keeps a hand over his drink until he finds a coaster and napkin, just to be safe. The drinks are good and the music choices are much better than some clubs he's been to. The men talk and joke and drink and keep touching Cherry's new jacket. He laughs at their attention, happy he agreed to come out.
Shatru had already known it was Cherry's birthday, and came to his window throwing rocks with Ravi and the guards. They begged him to come out, the underground club is better on Sundays!, they had promised. Cherry just wanted to sleep. This day had never been an easy one, he always assumed it was cursed since his parents' deaths, but one look at Ravi and he couldn't resist. He even opted to bring his new pink sunglasses and he feels very cool using his new flip phone, even if he has nobody to send a message to.
As though his phone could read his thoughts he suddenly gets a sharp ping. Cherry jumps at the vibration in his pocket. He flips open the little phone and reads 1 NEW MESSAGE: RAAVAN. Cherry's eyebrows pinch as he opens it to read it.
"Are you in your room?" - R
Cherry's breath hitches. Shatru put Jai's number into his phone and said emergencies only. He never expected to need to use it, or for Jai to have his number and send him a message. He stares carefully at the screen and the buttons, biting his lip. He hates trying to make words with the numbers but he needs to reply.
"Shatru took me tu tThe Cave." - C
Cherry winces at the spelling mistake, wondering if he can fix it now that he's sent it. Cherry's leg wobbles as he waits for a reply. He's about to give up and stuff the phone back in his pocket when it pings again.
"Have fun." - R
Cherry makes a sad noise and huffs. He's disappointed in the response, having hoped Jai would have asked him to come home, to spend his birthday with him. Cherry pouts and finishes his drink, snapping the phone closed and shoving it back into his pocket. He continues to enjoy Shatru's company. The men are funny and have exciting stories and Ravi keeps watching Cherry with warm eyes and a flirty smile. Cherry is flattered but knows how dangerous that would be, unsure how Jai would react, unsure he'd even want that with his current affections for Jai. He doesn't want to think about it too much, doesn't want to look too closely at what they are to each other, not yet, he just wants to enjoy this, and not fuck it up.
A few drinks turn to many and they find themselves ready to dance. As they all stand and wobble towards the stairs, a choir of Sringas play out, and the crowd below them parts. Cherry leans over the railing to see, and watches as a strong figure enters through the stone steps, commanding all the attention in the room. Cherry huffs a happy breath, knowing Jai's silhouette anywhere.
Jai is dressed sharply in expensive clothing made of sleek fabric, all dark colors and tight weaves. His jewelry shines under the neon lighting and he carries himself like royalty. Even a throne appears for him and he's waited on like a king. Jai's eyes shift up as he sits. Cherry catches his line of sight immediately, lowering his head to let the heart-shaped sunglasses droop and the long thin stands of his hair fall over his eyes. He isn't drunk, but the alcohol makes him loose and he smiles with intention. Jai's mustache turns up and he meets his gaze with a smirk.
Someone brings Jai a drink and suddenly Cherry's eyes catch another, a woman entering the throng of bodies, cultivating her own audience. She's dressed thinly, in sheer dark fabric and glittering tassels, her waist shifts to reveal soft hips and porcelain skin. Her eyes lock on Jai. Cherry watches the exchange unfold with increasing anxiety. Jai's eyes shift, he watches the woman curiously as she glides towards him, barefoot and beautiful. She is so beautiful Cherry thinks. His hands come together and he pulls at his fingers.
♫ The woman is dancing for Jai. It all happens so fast, the music stars and the floor vibrates with movement. The dancefloor is a stage and her beauty is the performance. She moves like a serpent, fluid and sleek, her dance is seductive, her eyes still on Jai, on Raavan. Cherry's stomach sinks as he sees the approval in Jai's eyes. As soon as she reaches for him, grabbing at him to stand and join her, Cherry feels a flush of rage and jealousy overwhelm him. He pulls from the railing and turns away, he wants to leave, but a hand reaches out to stop him. Cherry spins around, already on edge, and is met by Ravi's glittering smile.
"You can't go now! We have to dance!" Ravi yells over the pounding beat. Cherry offers a weak sway of his head, unconvinced.
"It's your birthday! You can't leave now." Ravi laughs. He is so handsome. Cherry agrees. It is his birthday. Tonight belongs to him.
Cherry moves back to their table, ties his jacket to his waist, and pockets his sunglasses. He takes a breath, straightens his spine, and throws back a shot he had saved. Cherry grabs Ravi's hand and they tumble down the stairs, Ravi laughing breathlessly. They push through the dancing crowd. Cherry can see Jai easily, he nearly has a spotlight following him, they have a spotlight. They dance together aggressive and sleek, with sharp turns and heavy feet. Each move is a challenge for the other and they maintain a perfect balance with each step. Her gaze is hot and Jai's is seductive. They look perfect together.
Cherry feels fire rush through his blood and a pain in his chest, he turns into Ravi's arms and tugs on his shirt. Ravi spins them, his height an advantage, he can lean his body into Cherry's from behind and hold him as they sway. Ravi dances well, soft and smooth with gentle hands. Soon Cherry forgets about the other dancers and starts to have fun. He falls into it and makes it playful, they both laugh and move together easily. Cherry is panting when Ravi turns him to the center. Cherry catches Jai's gaze, it's hot and hard, watching as Ravi presses and cups Cherry's body from behind. Cherry moves with him, slow and easy, stretching their bodies together, Cherry's eyes hot and unapologetic.
Jai spins the woman with him roughly and her body melts against him but his eyes don't leave Cherry's. It's an argument without words, it's heated glances and defiant movement. Then Ravi pushes a nose to Cherry's cheek and moves to kiss his neck and Jai falters, stuttering in his dance. The woman stutters too, laughing, trying to realign them but Jai moves away from her. She catches their shared gaze and smirks, another man she knows finds his way to her and she's just as satisfied with his company.
♫ Cherry doesn't follow. He has a dance partner, a very good one. He turns and pushes in, wrapping his shorter arms around Ravi's neck. Ravi moves them to keep going, happy with how his night is so far. They laugh and move and Cherry nearly forgets the rest of the night when an arm reaches out and pulls at him. He wonders why every man in India finds it their right to grab at him. He yelps as Jai pulls and spins Cherry toward him, it's rough and possessive. The spotlight follows them. Sringas ring out again and Cherry's heart beats wildly. Jai turns him again and this time Jai holds him from behind, swaying their bodies with a hand circling Cherry's throat. Cherry leans back and flutters at the touch. It's two serpents now, tangled together and snapping their fangs.
Cherry pulls away and turns, a competitive glint shines in his eyes. Jai smirks and follows his movements. They dance facing each other, like trying to mimic a mirror. Then it just happens, they fall into sync, each movement complimenting the other. They circle and graze and bend together, it feels like water rushing into fire, explosive and dangerous. It builds and builds with each step and soon there isn't any space between them and the dance is one body moving like two, pressed close, nose to nose.
Jai pulls them from the light and finds the shadows in the crowd. He yanks them both away, walking quickly to a corridor. Cherry is able to look back once and finds Ravi's smirk. He's occupied with a beautiful woman in his lap and tilts his head as Cherry rushes away Ravi is very handsome Cherry thinks.
Cherry can't see Jai well in the dark hall, only shapes, the glint of his jewelry, and the flash of his teeth. The carpet makes a different noise here, hollow and rough as they pad across it, trying to find a spot to be truly alone. They are turning corners and the music starts to dim, their only light, the long stretch of faint strobe lights. Suddenly he's pressed to a wall and Jai's mouth is over his. Their bodies melt together, both hot and worn from exertion. Jai's lips are a little dry but his tongue is hot. They kiss and press and kiss again. Cherry's arms around Jai's neck, Jai's hands on Cherry's back. Jai breaks away laughing and presses a finger to Cherry's chin, letting his mouth fall open.
Cherry smiles and shows his tongue, still pink but now sharply contrasted by shining metal. A discrete little tongue ring sits in the center. Jai smiles and puts his own tongue out to lap at it. Cherry makes a garbled noise, half laugh, half surprised complaint but Jai presses and they are kissing again. Cherry doesn't know why Jai would laugh, he left the little box on Cherry's bed. The cheeky pink box with a new fitted barbell inside. Another surprise gift for Cherry to marvel at. The kissing slows and turns sweet, Cherry feels safe in the open space, knowing Jai's body covers his, a guarantee of protection.
"Let me show you something. I want to take you so-somewhere." Jai has to speak close to Cherry's ear, to be heard over the music. Cherry sways his head yes, so happy. Jai grabs his hand again and leads them both out the back.
Jai's motorcycle is big. It's large and loud and shines under the moonlight. It rumbles like thunder down the coastal roads, Cherry feels steel and a strong engine between his legs. He wishes he could press himself flat against Jai's back but Jai instead on the helmet, despite Cherry's protests. He still holds him close and enjoys the whipping cool wind. He tries not to think of Jeevi, not tonight, he tightens his arms and lets his eyes slip close.
♫ Cherry is jolted from a trance when they arrive. He realizes the terrain is different now, soft and bouncy. When he finally looks up and Jai kills the engine he sees where they are. A big open beach with the ocean almost directly in front of them. The smell of salt and water swirls around him and the warm wind tries to draw him in. He is thankful for the absence of rain. He looks at Jai with wonder and moves to dismount. Jai follows him and they set their helmets aside.
"It's part of Gopalpur, there are miles of barren beach. We're near the co-co-coconut groves, and the nests." Jai explains. Cherry turns his head and smiles, patting his hair back against the warm sea wind.
"Nests?" Cherry asks. Jai only smiles and reaches to remove his shoes. Cherry follows him with his own and folds his pant legs up. Jai pulls a large torch from the back of his bike and notches his head for Cherry to follow him.
The sand is soft and warm under his feet and the moon is bright and full above them. They walk only a short distance before approaching a small cropping of rocks. Jai waves his torch around erratically and then makes a noise of recognition. He motions for Cherry to look, as his torch waves over movement in the sand. Cherry gasps when he sees them, dozens of infant turtles, wobbling from their nest onto the beach, heading eagerly to the open waves of the ocean. Cherry laughs and smiles brightly.
"They're so blue!" Cherry shouts. Jai laughs at the outburst.
"They're bright when they're young. It isn't their mating se-se-season, it's a surprise we found a hatching, I thought maybe we'd see an adult or two." Jai says wistfully.
Cherry squats and tries to inch closer, his feet moving like a crab to seem inconspicuous. Jai laughs and the turtles chirp and flap their flippers faster through the sand, running from Cherry's strange waddle.
"Come back! Come back!" Cherry starts to chase them playfully but stops when he gets too close. He turns to smile at Jai who watches him fondly. Cherry's hair whips around him and his frame looks so small against the vast sea. Cherry startles as he realizes he's in the way of the turtles’ path and moves aside gently to let them through. They both watch as a few front-runners meet the angry waves and get pushed back violently, but right themselves and try again. Cherry makes a worried noise.
"Should we help?" Cherry asks sweetly. Jai grunts.
"No. They have to make it th-th-themselves." Cherry isn't convinced but leaves the infants to their struggle. Jai approaches Cherry and pushes a hand to the small of his back. When he turns, Jai is pulling at his vest and kurta, placing the torch on the ground like a beacon.
"We could join them?" Jai offers with a smile.
"Eh?! In there?!" Cherry asks playfully. Jai only laughs and moves toward the tide, dropping clothing as he goes. Cherry hesitates only for a moment before flinging off his own trousers. He moves to toss his jacket when Jai yells out.
"Not the fur!" Jai shouts. Cherry huffs and squints, rushing back to the bike to lie the jacket out gently. When he looks back at the water, Jai's naked frame greets him, his solid back and thick thighs, his round bottom and wide torso. All of it silhouetted with the torch, casting strong shadows over Jai, making him look tall and strong like a deity, like the King of Lanka. Cherry rushes to join him, stripping off the rest of his clothing and running into the crashing waves after him.
The water is a good temperature for a warm night and Cherry can see the waves are quite calm. They meet in the tide, somewhere between the beach and open water. Jai tells him not to push past the tide and to stay close to him. Cherry smiles at the concern and doggy-paddles towards him.
"I forgot to ask if you know how to swim." Jai says. Cherry bobs on the surface and huffs.
"My father taught me, I guess I still remember." Jai hums as water laps around them. He dunks under suddenly letting his hair soak and saltwater linger on his lips, licking for a taste. Cherry mimics the action and when he resurfaces Jai has to calm his heart as the flat wet hair shows off his large ears, stuck out like a baby elephant. They're both squatting slightly in the water, if they stretch themselves they can feel the earth and stand, Jai prefers that, they'll have more control and not get swept to open water but he still keeps an eye out for rip tides.
Cherry inches himself closer, paddling ungracefully. Jai smiles again, his face hurts from all the stretching it's done tonight but Cherry is difficult to resist like this. When Cherry is close he flutters his long wet lashes and smiles. They kiss gently and taste salt between them. The roar of the ocean is a lullaby right now. Jai pulls away first and brushes his nose to Cherry's.
Cherry can see Jai is no longer wearing bandages on his shoulder, his hand ghosts over twisted tissue starting to scar. Jai hums and Cherry gives it a gentle kiss. Jai had stopped him long ago from helping with cleaning so seeing it heal so well is a relief. Cherry also watches as the water reflects light against the small nipple rings Jai still wears. His fingers play with them absently and Jai smiles.
"I came here a lot when I was young. After meeting Kaakha. With friends." Jai says it softly. Cherry listens closely.
"Friends?" Cherry asks.
"Other street boys. Lost with no family. Like me." Jai answers.
"Like me." Cherry parrots. Jai smiles softly.
"Kaakha is smart, he knows how to build an empire. We all grew up together, most of them are my closest men now." Jai explains. Cherry moves uncomfortably, a question on his lips.
"Is that when you started…talking like.." Cherry moves his hand to his throat and taps. "Because you lost your mother?" Cherry asks. Jai nearly recoils, wanting to turn and swim away from the question but he fights it.
"No. I was born with it. It will ne-ne-never go away." Jai's voice is hard and protective. Cherry only smiles.
"And Kaakha made you Lankesh anyway." Cherry says it with pride.
"Like I said, Kaakha is smart." Jai smirks and Cherry rolls his eyes.
"Is this your first time in the ocean?" Jai asks. Cherry shrugs in the water.
"My mother took me to Pushkaralu at Godavari." Cherry offers.
"You know the difference be-between a river and the ocean?" Jai asks playfully. Cherry scoffs and splashes Jai with open hands.
"Yes, smart man! I guess it isn't the same." Cherry looks up at the night sky, the stars bright like lamps against a pearlescent full moon.
"The moon looks bigger here." Cherry whispers. Jai looks up too.
"The lovers are here." Jai says it without thinking. Cherry looks intrigued and tilts his head.
"Mitra and Varuna?" Jai asks. Cherry wobbles his head no.
"They are the Devas of all waters, rivers, and the ocean. Some say the sun too. They watch over them to-to-together as the new and full moon. They are each only one half, two crescent moons wa-waxing and wa-waning until they can finally come together twice a month to make love." Jai explains it like an epic. The way his mother used to tell it. Cherry looks struck by awe.
"Lovers? Men?" Cherry whispers. Jai sways his head yes and smiles. Cherry's brows pinch and his face falls.
"Only twice a month? That sounds so lonely." Cherry whispers. Jai pushes closer to him and kisses his jaw. It's wet and warm.
"I suppose they decided it was enough. A night together wo-worth waiting for." Jai answers. Cherry presses his forehead to Jai’s nose in a playful bump.
“I’m sorry I cried yesterday I don’t kno-” Cherry is cut off as Jai interrupts him.
“I’m not sorry.” Jai says it firmly. They watch each-other tenderly.
Jai decides to stretch and stand, scooping Cherry into his arms and lifting him, letting the moon act as a halo behind him. Cherry doesn't take his eyes off the sky, thinking. Jai watches him like this, a tall dark statue, disappearing against the inky sky. Cherry's skin isn't black but in the moonlight, he looks like Kali. Thin dark hair and a strong body ready for a fight, only the kindness he radiates gives him away. Jai kisses his neck, reverent, the water still at their chests.
"A good birthday?" Jai asks. Cherry smiles.
"Yes, yes." Cherry answers without moving, like he’s talking to the stars.
Cherry watches the sky and pictures Sridevi and her song, her moon singing to soothe her. He sees her tears reflecting firelight. When he looks down at Jai, he smiles so softly it makes Jai's chest ache.
"My chandu." Cherry whispers. Jai's eyes sting, his facial muscles go taunt. He hides it in a kiss and tightens his hold on Cherry, pushing back through the waves to bring them both to shore.
When they reach the beach they tumble to it, lying together in the sand. Jai rolls on top and they kiss, it's wet and desperate and a tangle of limbs. Their cocks slide together hot and rigid and they kiss like moon lovers. Cherry's moans sing with the crashing waves behind them. Jai feels the way he does at puja, praying and chanting to a higher form of light. The sand scrapes at Cherry's back and the air is getting cold. He grips at Jai like a lifeline and keeps their mouths together. It's too much distraction in the end and they both laugh as they go soft.
"Too cold." Jai whispers and Cherry only nuzzles at his cheek. They stand up again and wander back to the water to rinse off. They redress gently and Cherry waves goodbye to the last turtles still struggling to join their siblings. Back on Jai's bike and shivering in wet clothes, Cherry lets the night take him back to his trance, hugging Jai tightly and letting the wind dry them clean.
When Jai gets them home the sun is just beginning to peak over the horizon. The light is blue like water over the haveli. He scoops Cherry into a hold easily, the man sleeps like a stone when he's tired. This isn't the first time he's put Cherry to bed and it won't be the last. Jai gets him into his room and helps him undress on his bed. Cherry wobbles and fusses through it, wanting to lie down. Jai laughs and gets him under clean sheets. Cherry whines and complains.
"Don't go chandu. Stay with me." he whimpers. He looks so small and alone. Jai pulls a hand down his cheek to soothe him. There is a moment when Jai’s body tries to move, tries to sink down next to him but he stops, swallowing that pull, and sits himself rigid, watching Cherry’s eyelids droop. When Cherry finally falls off to sleep, Jai stands and leaves quietly.
Ahimsa: In Hinduism, the ethical principle of not causing harm to other living things.
Chinni: Small, cute, sweet. (endearment)
Chirutha: Cheetah. (endearment)
Pandu: Fruit. (endearment)
Svarga: Heaven.
Sringa: A crescent-shaped horn from South India.
Pushkaralu: An Indian festival dedicated to the worshiping of rivers.
Chandu: Moon. (endearment)
Chapter 9: Ahimsa
Summary:
Cherry learns more about what it means to ‘belong’ in Lanka.
Chapter Text
Cherry's never had train food before. He likes the little packages and wrappers that keep everything fresh. They crinkle sweetly and keep the area in front of them clean. Jai had said the trip to Bhubaneshwar would be short but that they could get something light. Cherry picked chalte-chalte and samosas with a cold bottle of water. Cherry tried to buy his own, but Jai made him wait in their car. Jai had gotten them a private sleeper. Cherry thinks it's too much for a trip that's only a few hours but Jai says he prefers the privacy. They sit with a small table between them and Jai reads his book.
Cherry eats his snack happily, he hasn't had a proper samosa since he was young and this one tastes just like the ones from home. He watches the landscape whip by them through the window and chews, the train rattles and bumps and he can hear the faint chatter of other passengers. Jai reads with his glasses on, Cherry finds him so handsome when he wears them he has to fight the urge to kiss him. Cherry's legs wiggle as he chews and Jai clicks his tongue.
"Keep them on." Jai uses a foot to push at Cherry's thongs, halfway off now. "This floor is filthy." Cherry smiles at the fussiness and takes a big bite. Jai scoffs and watches him eat.
"Always so hungry, but so thin." Jai says playfully. Cherry snorts.
"My Amma always said my stomach likes to fold it all away for later." Cherry sighs.
"I always st-struggled with folding ." Jai smiles and pats his belly.
"I know." Cherry says lightly and pops the last bite of samosa in his mouth "I always like big men." he says as he chews. Jai smiles and raises an eyebrow. Cherry licks at his fingers and considers his next question.
"Did you always know? That you only liked men." Cherry has to resist whispering it, still shy.
"Yes, that was always easy." Jai pauses and puts his tongue to his teeth. "I've had sex with wo-women, It's not what I want." Cherry considers the answer seriously, his forehead pinched and a finger still in his mouth.
"I used to know what I wanted but, now I'm not so sure." Cherry says. Jai raises an eyebrow at the confession.
"It's never felt like this ." Cherry murmurs and Jai resists the urge to smirk, a swell of pride in his chest.
"It could be just good sex." Jai smiles as Cherry colors. "You'll understand better the more lo-lovers you have." Jai says.
Cherry doesn't like the implication there will be anyone other than Jai and is anxious that Jai would recommend it so casually. He decides not to think about it and shifts his attention. Cherry grabs at the bag of chalte-chalte and squeezes the foil to pull it open, the sound is tight and sharp against his ears.
"You've had many lovers." Cherry says with the pull of his tongue ring against his teeth, it clacks and peaks through Cherry's mouth before tucking back in. He pops two peanuts in his mouth and squeezes the package.
"Why did Sekhar say you share?" Cherry asks while he chews. Jai lets out a low grunt from the back of his chest, annoyed by the implication, but keeps his eyes on his book.
"I had so-someone living with me in Lanka a few years ago. When I met her, she was a man who liked men. After a time she re-realized she was a woman who liked men." Jai speaks quickly, not wanting to linger on the details.
"She?" Cherry whispers to himself and studies the table. "Oh, Hijra… ."
"Don't use that word." Jai snaps. "It's cruel. Sacred enough for blessings but nothing else?" Jai looks annoyed and Cherry slinks down in his seat.
"I don't know the words." Cherry mumbles and puts his hand flat to his mouth to eat more peanuts.
Jai's face softens and he feels guilty for the edge in his voice. He lets the sound of train wheels fill the space before continuing.
"I'm not interested in women. I let her ta-take other lovers and stay. I thought she would seek so-so-someone in town but she fucked a few of my men. One fell in love with her." Jai turns the page of his book, uncomfortable speaking about Rohini.
"Sekhar." Cherry says to the table. Jai raises his head, still surprised at how good Cherry's instincts are. Jai grunts in response.
"It was too complicated. I asked her to leave Lanka and paid for a flat for her in Berhampur . I thought they would be ha-ha-happy together but she hung herself." Jai says it flat and even, with no emotion. Cherry's eyes widen and he puts down his peanuts, no longer hungry.
"Sekhar blames me and It's never been re-resolved between us." Jai's voice is strained and he clears his throat.
Cherry keeps his eyes on the table and leans back into his booth, suddenly very tired. Jai, noticing the shift, closes his book. He puts his glasses away and moves to Cherry's side of the car. Jai grabs at the small foil package and puts two peanuts in his mouth, cracking them with the back of his teeth. Cherry pulls at his fingers again.
"Am I a Kothi ?" Cherry asks, his voice soft. Both of Jai's eyebrows raise.
"If that's what you want. You don't ne-need a word for it if you don't wa-want one. I am not a Panthi ." Jai's voice is stern and sure.
"Do you use a word?" Cherry asks. Jai lifts a shoulder and sighs.
"The English words are fine. Gay. Homosexual." Jai answers. Cherry scrunches his nose and looks out the window at blurry trees.
"Sounds like medicine." Cherry mumbles. Jai laughs.
"I know I like sex with Men. I know I like you ." He says it close to Cherry's ear. The warm breath raises the hair on Cherry's skin and his eyelids droop.
Jai reaches for Cherry's neck and cups the sensitive skin at the back, hidden under the long strands of black hair. Cherry turns gently, his eyes open and earnest. Jai presses their mouths together. Cherry can't focus on the creeping feeling of abandonment. Anxiety over how easily Jai can let someone go, how his affections come with conditions. He knows the kiss is a distraction, Jai trying to push those thoughts away. Cherry wants to be distracted, he wants to forget this about Jai and just be kissed.
Cherry presses close, his hands on Jai's chest, he wants more. Jai's tongue pushes and licks and his lips taste like the faint sweat on his upper lip. Jai's mustache is rough and Cherry loves the feel of it when they kiss. Jai breaks away first, letting his mouth linger close and speaking into the shared space.
"Do you know what's in Bhubaneshwar ?" Jai asks.
"An important meeting you need to go to." Cherry says, trying to lean back into the kiss. Jai clears his throat and keeps them separated.
"I do have an important meeting but it's not in Bhubaneshwar ." Jai says easily. Cherry pulls back as Jai starts to move away. He checks his watch and crumples up the empty snack bag.
" Bhubaneshwar is where we catch our fl-flight." Jai stands to check their bags, getting ready for their stop. Cherry snaps his head up with a look of confusion and dread.
" Flight?! "
They rush through the crowded airport together. Jai stretches his legs out in long strides and Cherry shuffles behind him, trying to keep up.
"I-I've never been North before! I don't speak Hindi!" Cherry whines.
"I do. I can do the ta-talking. You can use English, it will be fine." Jai says. They stop suddenly as they step in line for security checks. Cherry grabs at Jai's kurta and squeezes the fabric, not wanting to get separated as people push through.
"I don't speak English good…" Cherry whispers, embarrassed.
Jai quietly reprimands himself for assuming the man who spent his entire childhood in prison would speak fluent English.
"It will be fine Pandu , just stay with me." Jai says and pushes Cherry gently in front of him to go through his security check. Cherry hates airports and hates flights. He hated it when he flew to Thailand and hated flying home. The cabins are too small and there are too many people. Cherry clutches Jai when they take off and shakes his legs nervously during the entire two-hour flight. Jai has to keep a firm hand resting on Cherry's thigh to try and soothe him. They eventually land in New Delhi and Cherry clings close until they are outside in a rickshaw.
They both changed at the airport before leaving. Jai wears fine silks and wide fluttering Churidars with subtle trim. Cherry was given a sleek dark outfit for comfort and they both wear dark shades for privacy. The Rickshaw stops at their hotel to drop off their bags but they don't go in. Jai says they are running late and directs their things to their room, Cherry waits in the Auto.
New Delhi is alive with sounds and smells that feel both familiar and different. Tuk-Tuk's honk and street sellers yell out. The air is so dry it makes Cherry thirsty but it also feels cooler than down south. It's nice to hear the call to prayer again and let the holy melody settle in his bones. The sounds play vibrantly against the bright colors of painted buildings and the strips of sarees hanging on lines to dry above them. Cherry can smell masala lime soda and gets the smokey waft of meat as vendors pass by. I am always so hungry. Cherry thinks and smiles.
When Jai returns, he hands the driver a tip for waiting and they speed off. Jai lets his arm lay across the back seat so they can fit more comfortably, letting it rest gently against Cherry's shoulders. Cherry preens at the gesture and hopes his sunglasses hide the blush. Jai puts a hand to his breast pocket and reaches inside his vest, he pulls out two small green packets and points his open palm toward Cherry.
"Only until we get there, spit it out before we go in. I don't want it in your mo-mouth too long." Jai says while watching the road, his body bouncing with the rickshaw.
Cherry almost gasps when he recognizes the offering. He pops a paan into his mouth eagerly and cracks the nut between his teeth and the betel leaf. He moves it with his tongue to nestle between his cheek and gums and hums at the familiar awful taste. The flavors underneath are at least nice, if very faint. Rose petals, cloves, and coconut. He smiles as he watches Jai fit his own into his mouth and put his teeth to it. Cherry finds it incredibly sexy, watching Jai's tongue fit the paan around until it settles. Cherry feels the rush creep in and enjoys the warmth it brings, excited to participate in something Jai would usually call unacceptable.
They continue to drive through the city, jerking left and right. Cherry enjoys watching from the back of a rickshaw for once and points absently at things that catch his eye, Jai humming at each remark. Cherry starts to ask if they can visit Chandni Chowk or HKV when he hears Jai make a new noise. He turns to look and catches Jai making an odd expression. The man's face is suddenly pale and anxious. His hands are moving fast to his vest again and yanking out a dark handkerchief. Cherry feels dampness on his lip and Jai moves to press the cloth to Cherry's nose.
"Oh, bujji it's the dry air." Jai says as he clicks his tongue. Cherry makes a nervous noise at the sudden nosebleed. He tries to lean his head back to stop the gush but Jai reprimands him and tells him to lean forward.
"Let it bleed until it stops." Jai says. The driver turns to look and huffs.
"From the south? It happens to tourists." He shrugs and turns back to watch the road.
Jai tries to control the rush of anger he feels at what he knows was an innocent remark. Cherry hears the driver speak Hindi and wants to ask Jai to translate but feels embarrassed behind the cloth.
They finally arrive, and Cherry tests the cloth against his nose, relieved to feel it dry. Jai pays their driver and speaks to him in Hindi again. The rickshaw pulls out and Jai takes the bloody cloth from Cherry's hand. He folds it to a clean end and spits his paan into it, holding his hand out for Cherry to do the same. Cherry does and watches as Jai throws the bundle into a nearby bin.
"This meeting is going to be different. I ne-need this person to trust me. Don't speak unless spoken to and be respectful. You're re-re-representing me today." Jai smiles softly at Cherry's very serious listening face and notches his head for them to head inside.
It isn’t until they are walking into the building that Cherry realizes where they are. The signs on the walls are enough, but the numerous women leaning against crumbling paint, the men passing through with downcast eyes, and the low light against drawn curtains solidify it. This is a brothel .
Cherry fixes his stance and tries to walk tall. He’s representing Jai here, but he can’t help the sudden anxiety at why they are in a brothel. Jai leads them down a long hall and up crescent-shaped stairways. The state of the building isn’t the worst he’s seen, he’s surprised at how clean it does look considering where they are, and as they ascend each floor, the color and light seem to brighten. The sun shows itself and suddenly they are at a door painted crimson red. Jai knocks twice and clears his throat. A small window carved in the wood slides open and two dark red eyes stare at them.
“Your charioteer, your gatekeeper, your cook, and your br-br-brother.” Jai says. The two dark eyes squint and the window closes again. The door unlocks and they both step inside.
This room is bright. It’s much larger than expected, with colorful walls, art, and plush carpets. The room itself is still old and falling apart but the decor is cared for, the creative choices clear. There is a wide bed on the side, with a fluttering canopy and rich bedding. It points to the centerpiece of the room, comfortable seating surrounding a small tea table. The tall windows behind it are pulled open and curtains dance against a tall fan that blows in cool air.
A woman sits center, delicate and wistful, fanning herself and smiling as they both approach. She's dressed in light colors and chiffon, her saree is delicate and bright but her lips are a deep red. She's very beautiful and looks young but there is something in her eyes that Cherry recognizes. It's wisdom, the kind that comes from being pushed into a difficult life. Jai stands before her, removes his shades out of respect, and offers Namaste. Cherry decides it's best he stays still and invisible. He's here as one of Jai's guards, not a part of the meeting or greeting. The woman dips her head at Jai, motioning for him to sit. As he does, he adjusts his vest and scarf, smiling gently.
"Raavan." The woman points an open palm to Jai and then turns it to point at herself. "Shurpanakha." Jai's smile widens at the pseudonym.
"I know why you are here." Shurpanakha drawls. Her voice is deep and rich but with an edge, like crackling curry leaves in hot ghee. "I'm afraid you've made a mistake. I have no interest." She says. Jai furrows his brow at this and presses his lips together.
"We want the same thing. I was hoping we could he-help each other." Jai tries to offer it gently, with sincerity. Shurpanakha only scoffs.
"Here to avenge us of disrespectful princelings, annayya?" She says. Jai smiles and tries to ignore the sour note.
"Do you think this is your fight now? We bear the brunt of it. You think we've struggled this long, waiting for a savior?" Shurpanakha bites her teeth on the words, flashing her gold tooth. "And whatever glorious work you do, if you emerge victorious, we still will be the ones who suffer." She hisses it. Jai clears his throat.
“It’s important to me, for the same reason it is im-important to you. I want it to end.” Jai tries to sound sincere. He does mean it. Shurpanakha leans back and sighs. She eyes the man across from her and clicks her tongue.
“Trusting men has never gone well for me.” She says it softly like she is speaking to herself. Her eyes scan the room and fall on Cherry.
Cherry wonders what they are saying but thinks it’s best that he can’t understand. The conversation carries heavy tension and knowing may have made it harder to keep a neutral face. He needs to look strong and tall. He wonders if it’s convincing. Shurpanakha looks at him and smiles, he tries not to respond but his expression softens. She is quite beautiful.
Shurpanakha motions for Cherry to come closer. He has a moment of panic, he stutters in his stance and turns to Jai for approval. Jai looks calm and collected, he smiles at Cherry too, and notches his head towards her. She reaches a hand out as he walks forward and guides him to sit on the same long seat with her.
“What kind of men do you trust Annayya ?” Shurpanakha asks Jai.
“Too small to be a guard.” She speaks to Cherry. Her Telugu is a little clipped but Cherry can make out the words. His body flushes at them and he suddenly worries he’s made a mistake. Shurpanakha motions for Cherry to remove his shades and when he does her smile brightens.
“Much too beautiful too.” She says. Cherry tries to control his reaction but his face colors. Shurpanakha traces her hand down Cherry’s cheek and laughs.
“You don’t believe me? Such pretty eyes and beautiful skin.” She coos. Cherry forgets himself and scoffs. Shurpanakha raises an eyebrow.
“It’s too dark.” Cherry says it with a playful edge, trying to shrug off the compliment. Shurpanakha hums disapprovingly. Cherry doesn’t understand why, her skin is so light and soft, surely she knows what he looks like.
“Who told you that?” Shurpanakha turns her eyes to Jai. “Was it him?” Cherry freezes, unsure how to respond, and worries he is very much doing something wrong.
“N-No.” Cherry answers. He tries to fold into himself but Shurpanakha continues.
“What does he say?” She asks, enjoying her game. Cherry looks at Jai again, his brows meeting in the middle. Jai looks fine, smiling and calm. His eyes are suddenly soft and reflect a kind of light Cherry’s only seen when they are alone.
“That it’s-” Cherry swallows. “Beautiful.” Cherry colors again and looks down. He doesn’t like this conversation and wants it to end. Shurpanakha hums and gives Jai a pointed look.
“Do you see that door over there?” Shurpanakha asks Cherry and points to a dark wooden door behind them. “Go through there and wait, please. I need to speak with your Maharaj alone. My girls can keep you company.”
Cherry turns to Jai, asking permission with his eyes. Jai looks happy and somewhat, proud. He nods in the direction of the door. Cherry doesn't like this but he listens and leaves quietly. When they are alone, Shurpanakha turns her gaze back to Jai.
"Srinivasa." She whispers it like a curse.
Jai steps through the back door. He's happy with how the meeting went, the information passed between them will help immensely. As he walks into the new room he spots Cherry immediately and the sight is a surprise. Cherry sits on a low bed covered in colorful bedding and various sarees laid out. Nearly 5 women surround him, curled on their knees, preening over Cherry and giggling. The woman in front of him laughs the loudest as she applies lip color and kajal. They don’t notice Jai yet or decide to ignore his entrance.
“Oh, all men are like that.” The woman says at the end of her laugh. Cherry twists his nose as she evens out the lip color and then lets out a huff.
"Don't you think-" Cherry starts but then stops when his eyes catch Jai's and he pulls away from her grasp embarrassed. The girls all turn towards Jai and laugh again, startling like a group of forest does. They move together and patter out of the room giggling. Cherry stands and wipes at his mouth roughly with his sleeve. Jai's expression is gentle and full of affection but Cherry looks upset.
"Are we finished?" Cherry asks quickly, the words clipped. Jai notches his head in a yes but he gives away a concerned expression. Cherry huffs and leads them out.
Cherry moves quickly through the building, his hair whipping around as he glides down creaking stairs and through long hallways. Jai has to work to keep up. He wants to call to him, ask him to slow down but this dimly lit brothel is not the place. Jai is impressed with Cherry's acute sense of direction as he easily leads them both back out onto the bustling street of New Delhi . Jai winces at the bright sun and unfolds his shades to put them back on. He strides behind Cherry as the smaller man walks with angry steps.
"Cherry." Jai calls, keeping his voice calm but stern.
Cherry doesn't slow down and Jai starts to become frustrated. He reaches and yanks on Cherry's arm to stop him. Cherry spins around fast, his expression hot and angry.
"You think I'm stupid!" Cherry spits. Jai pulls back. "I know what that was! You used me to look soft. You do think I'm weak. You lied to me!" Cherry's voice wobbles at the end but he swallows it down tightly. He will not cry in the middle of this busy street.
Jai's eyes are wide and anxious. Cherry turns again to keep walking. Jai grabs him again.
"That isn't right. It's mo-mo-more than that. I don't think you are weak." Jai tries to keep his voice low, praying that the people around them can't understand Telugu. Cherry yanks his arm away again and starts walking. He isn't sure where he is going but he wants to get as far away as he can. Jai follows behind closely.
"It's because I'm small, and like strange clothes, and let girls paint my face eh?!" Cherry yells back. Jai tries not to roll his eyes.
"If you have a guard like me? If you bring one like me? How dangerous can you be? Chee!" Cherry nearly screeches the expletive and moves to cross the street without looking. Jai grabs him again.
"Calm down! That's wrong, let me ex-explain!" Jai pleads. Cherry wiggles out of his grip again and starts crossing more carefully.
"Where are you go-going!?" Jai calls out after him.
"I'm hungry!" Cherry yells it loud and angry and points to the food cart across the way.
Jai pulls a frustrated hand across his face but decides to stay on his side of the street. He paces as he watches Cherry buy his food. Cherry has to wait and circles the vendor as Jai watches with slanted eyes. Jai checks his watch, then his phone. A large lorry passes between them and when it's gone, so is Cherry. Jai freezes, his blood running cold. His eyes dart around wildly, looking for the slim man, his inky hair, his playful stride, but nothing. Jai half-jogs across the road and walks up and down the path near the food cart. It isn't until he passes a small alleyway he hears Cherry's voice, small and panicked.
Jai steps into the shadows and sees five men crowd around Cherry's smaller frame. One has his body in a grip, a knife to his thin neck, pushing at his throat. Jai sees a flash of red and a powerful rage sears through him. He moves towards them, but before they can even hear his steps Cherry moves first. He locks eyes with Jai and snaps his own neck to the left. The blade slices at Cherry’s throat but it's shallow. The sudden spill of blood shocks the men and they stutter as Cherry starts to unfold. He grips the wrist holding the knife, bends a leg high, and kicks the goon in the chest hard. The rowdy flies back like a rag doll and slams into a brick wall. Cherry ducks and they buckle, an elbow flies up to connect with a jaw, a punch lands in a stomach and then two feet in another. Jai watches Cherry with pride, it's just as impressive as every time he's watched Cherry fight.
Jai pushes forward, he knows Cherry won't need his help, but his blood boils and he wants to hit something. He grabs a rowdy and pushes. He can hear bones crack under his hands and the damp swipe of blood across his knuckles. His legs kick out and his knees find chests and stomachs. They pass each other amidst the violence, rotating in opposite directions like a dance. Jai feels his heart swell at Cherry's smile and his face flushes with heat. Soon there is scrabbling and shouting and the men who are still conscious run off into the street. The adrenaline soars through Jai's blood when he reaches for Cherry, checking his neck and every other inch of his body for wounds. Jai sees his neck is already starting to clot and is very shallow. Cherry pants and heaves, he leans into the touch and laughs but startles when Jai pulls at him.
"That caused noise. We need to leave." Jai explains as they push back onto the street. Cherry scoffs, his own adrenaline pumping.
"The great Raavan , afraid of New Delhi police?" Cherry teases.
"I don't have a-a-all of Bharat in my pocket." Jai looks back and smiles. "Not yet." Cherry laughs again, a hand to his neck as they wave down a rickshaw. They push into the back quickly.
"Do you speak Telugu?" Jai asks their driver. The startled man winces and says no. Jai reaches forward and shows him a large bill folded in half.
"Good. Keep your eyes forward, you ignore the backseat until you drop us. The Imperial." The driver snatches the bill and sways his head, whistling at the mention of the hotel.
"As Blind as Dhritarashtra, garu. My eyes see only the path ahead." The driver laughs and they speed off.
"They wanted money." Cherry winces and presses his neck. “I was angry and said something stupid.” Jai pulls off his scarf and wraps it around Cherry to replace his hand; he hopes it covers the blood enough for the hotel staff to ignore.
“I brought you to look soft.” Jai breathes. Cherry’s face pinches, Jai has never seen him so angry. “But not for the re-reason you think. It was me.” Jai continues to fuss with the scarf and looks frustrated.
“I just wanted to ke-keep you in Lanka for a week or two, give Sekhar time to cool off, but it got co-co-complicated.” Jai grits his teeth at the memories. “I can’t work when you are around. I can’t focus. I can't have you on a j-j-job with me.”
“Then why bring me today?!” Cherry feels the sting of rejection, even if it isn’t directly related to his abilities.
“Shurpanakha deals with the kind of men who treat wo-women like products. Like meat on the ch-chopping block. Something to buy and sell.” The rickshaw goes over a large bump and they jerk sharply for a moment. Jai steadies himself with a hand on the seat.
“I needed to show her that I am not that kind of m-man, that I can’t be.” Jai says. Cherry’s lip wobbles and he scans Jai’s expression with wide eyes.
“How?” Cherry whispers it. He wonders about his small body and silly clothes and red smeared lips.
“Because when I look at you, I can’t hide it. It’s p-painted all over my face." Jai swallows, his eyes open wide. "I knew she would see it. See how little I would care about women and meat."
Cherry's eyes grow wider. Jai shifts as the Rickshaw continues to bounce. He opens his mouth again to speak, but is interrupted by Cherry slapping him hard across the face.
"THAT'S FUCKING STUPID!" Cherry screeches.
Jai gets knocked into the side of the auto, his body wavering from the heavy hit. The driver startles and laughs, but keeps his eyes forward. Jai winces at the sting on his cheek and presses his fist back to the seat. He moves again to speak, frustration rising, when Cherry grabs him, and slots their mouths together frantically. The kiss is wild and angry and possessive. Cherry's tongue fights Jai's, hot and slick. Jai lets the heat of it mix with the pain, and pushes a hand into Cherry's hair. They get a few moments of bliss and then the Rickshaw screeches to a halt.
"The Imperial!" The driver shouts and clicks his tongue.
The hotel room is lavish and large, the decor traditional and elegant with dark colors. Cherry wonders if Jai chose it for that alone. Their bags are already inside, Jai's nice label luggage next to Cherry's small backpack. They would be unpacking and exploring the new room if they weren't both pressed against the door trying to devour each other. The kisses are hot and needy, Cherry whimpering against them. Jai pulls away first and tries to lead Cherry further into the room.
"Do you remember when we talked y-yesterday? About washing?" Jai asks. Cherry colors and looks embarrassed but sways his head yes.
"Go. Do it like I said." Jai whispers and points his chin towards the washroom.
Cherry tries not to laugh out of shyness but moves into the intended room and clicks the door shut. When he returns, he brings with him billows of steam and the intoxicating smell of soap. Cherry walks in shyly with damp hair, clean skin, and a small towel tied around his waist. He spots Jai immediately and blushes. The larger man sits comfortably on the edge of the bed, checking his phone casually, completely naked. When he sees Cherry he stands and smiles, tossing the phone onto the bed.
Jai checks Cherry's neck first, grazing the small cut already starting to heal. It's as thin as a paper cut, it won't even need a bandage. Jai grabs gently at Cherry's waist and kisses him sweetly. His hands glide softly up Cherry's flanks and return down to rest on the swell of his bottom. Cherry's breath hitches and Jai fits his hand under the towel to pull it and let it drop to the floor. Jai presses their bodies together as close as he can, and rests their foreheads together, happy to feel so much warm skin. Cherry huffs a small laugh and flushes. He can feel the pleasant sensation of Jai's body hair brushing against his own skin and he shudders. Cherry lets his fingers touch and tease the thin metal in Jai's nipples and watches as Jai responds. Cherry laughs again and Jai squeezes and gropes at Cherry's bottom, making him sigh and clutch Jai's shoulders. Cherry sees the shoulder wound again but doesn't touch it this time. It's still healing but it's passing into memory now. They kiss again, small pecks, one after the other, until Jai pulls back from the embrace.
"I want to thank you for helping me today. You did so well, it went better than I e-e-expected." Jai says. Cherry huffs and furrows his brow, still upset at being manipulated, but softening to Jai's sweetness. Jai turns to the bed and points to it with his eyes.
"Lie on the bed for me? On your belly." Jai bends to kiss Cherry's shoulder before pushing him gently towards the bed. Cherry goes with a sigh.
The hotel room is spacious and looks expensive so of course the bed is raised high and wide enough for a family to sleep on. Cherry crawls onto it playfully and realizes it's covered with a throw. The fabric is soft but thick and feels like the terrycloth he just had wrapped around his waist. As he gets closer, he realizes it smells like Jai and presses his face against it as he flops down on his belly.
Cherry's eyes also catch a few things near the pillows, a rectangle wrapped in paper and a bottle. He hums his curiosity but nearly forgets the items as he feels Jai's breath near his neck. Jai kisses Cherry softly behind his ear and nuzzles his nose there. Cherry turns his head and smiles but hides his embarrassment in the soft mattress. He pulls his neck up when he sees the rectangle near his face and grabs it, letting out a happy sound when he pulls back the wrapping.
"Chocolate!" Cherry exclaims and breaks off a piece to pop in his mouth.
It's chunky and textured and Cherry immediately tastes pistachio and rose, followed by cardamon and then the sweet bitter chocolate that melts in his mouth. Cherry suddenly feels weight on his thighs and more coarse hair. He realizes Jai is straddling him there, but holding most of his weight up. Cherry hums as he chews and Jai chuckles.
"We'll have a big meal when we're done. I'm sure you'll still be hu-hu-hungry." Jai says playfully. Cherry snorts, and turns to reply, when he hears the wet sound of the bottle, and feels strong hands at his back. Cherry moans as Jai squeezes and rubs at Cherry's shoulders, his hands pushing in warm oil. The smell of it is gentle and floral. Cherry hums and drops his head back down to the mattress, abandoning his treat. Jai runs his hands up and down Cherry's back, massaging, pulling, and pushing each tight knot he finds. Cherry hums and sighs at the relief, pleasure rushing through his body with each strong touch. Cherry's always wanted a massage like this and it feels as wonderful as he hoped it would.
Eventually, Jai rotates his body and focuses on what’s below Cherry's hips, massaging his thighs and calves with just as much attention as his back. Cherry hums and groans and when Jai gets to Cherry's feet he startles at the touch. The skin is sensitive but he bends his knees to give Jai access to his ankles and arches. Jai gives them attention too and gives a small kiss to each heel before turning again.
As Jai returns to Cherry's upper body, Cherry feels another weight and heat near his backside. It's Jai's cock, starting to get hard and hot against Cherry's bottom. Jai’s own body is starting to dampen too, flexing and moving against Cherry, the arousal starting to build. Cherry chuckles at the reaction and swivels his hips slowly, trying to tease. Jai hums in response, moving his hands from Cherry's forearms to his waist. Jai kneads the muscles there too, spreading more oil and squeezing out tension. Cherry hums again, nearly melting into the bed, his toes flexing and curling, stretching himself like a happy cat. Jai squeezes again and leans his weight into it, his own shoulders bunching up. Cherry groans and Jai’s cock grows thicker.
Jai gives a gentle smack to Cherry’s bottom and Cherry nearly yelps, but turns his head to smile back. Jai takes the moment to start pushing and kneading at Cherry's cheeks, running his palms, cupped, up and over them. Cherry's breathing turns heavy and he lulls his head back at the touch. Jai's fingers spread and squeeze and gently work their way around the muscles, at the side of his hips and back to the crease. Jai is working towards what they both want, what Cherry imagined once Jai's hands moved lower. Jai lets his thumb push closer, into the crease and ghosting a feather-light touch near Cherry's hole. Cherry warbles out a plea, arching his back, and tilting his hips towards Jai. The oil on their skin is slick and warm and Cherry wants more.
"Has anyone touched you here?" Jai asks, his voice thick and hoarse.
"Yes." Cherry whispers. Jai wants to groan at the thought but swallows and licks his lips.
"Who?" Jai asks.
"Me." Cherry moans it, trying to hide his embarrassment on the mattress. Jai does groan this time, low and short.
"When?" Jai asks and licks his lips again, still kneading Cherry's bottom and hips, getting Cherry soft and relaxed.
"Before you , only a few times. After-" Cherry's breath hitches as Jai's thumb brushes his hole again, getting it wet. "All the time now."
Jai's cock throbs at the confession and he lets out a long breath, his fingers travel past Cherry's hole and over the tight sack underneath, cupping and pulling them. Cherry whines at the contact and tilts his hips again. The lift allows Jai to snake a hand between Cherry and the mattress to stroke his short cock, getting it slick with oil and causing Cherry to make a noise that vibrates against the bed. Jai only strokes him a few times before returning to his hole and massaging his thumb over the textured skin again. Jai enjoys the dark coarse hair he finds there too, rubbing at it with his thumbs.
Then Jai's hand is gone, he moves it to stroke himself slowly, the relief on his cock overwhelming. Cherry looks back out of curiosity and watches as Jai scoots down the bed a little before bending his body. Cherry wants to ask what's happening when suddenly Jai is spreading Cherry's cheeks wide and putting his mouth between them. Cherry warbles out a loud cry as Jai's tongue presses flat against him. The sensation is strange and wet and soft and good and Cherry’s body starts to tremble. His mouth starts to gape as Jai kisses and tongues at his hole, softening the muscle, and lapping hot sensation up his spine. Cherry can feel Jai’s mustache at the skin above it, it’s scratchy and thick and reminds Cherry that Jai is a man, with his hands wrapped around his hips.
Cherry knows people do this, he's heard about it of course but he's never had anyone want to. He admits to himself he's fantasized about it but was too afraid to ask Jai, unsure if it was something he would like. Cherry is very happy to learn his anxiety was for nothing. Cherry squeezes the thick throw in his hands as Jai’s tongue continues to lick, eventually folding to a point and pushing inside. Cherry's voice stutters and his hips start to move on their own, twisting and rotating back. It feels wonderful, wet, and strange but also not enough. He knows what he wants. One of his hands moves back and blindly reaches for Jai. It finds one of Jai's wrists and squeezes.
"Please please-" Cherry's own moan interrupts him. "Please, your-" Cherry squeezes Jai's wrist again, shy about asking. "-Fingers?"
Jai hums and smiles against muscle. He pulls back to bite a cheek playfully and grabs the oil bottle again. Cherry notices Jai's flushed nose and lips. It's the same way his face flushes when they kiss and the image tugs at Cherry's heart. Cherry swallows the extra saliva around his lips and mouths at his own flexing fingers. Wanting something to put his tongue around as Jai's two fingers move to his hole, slathered in oil. Cherry keeps his own two fingers on his tongue, brushing the metal of his barbell when Jai pushes a finger in.
Cherry lets his voice carry over the familiar sensation. His mouth stays hanging open as Jai twists and flexes his thick finger. Jai grunts too, his own cock painfully hard as he watches Cherry respond to his touch. Cherry bends one leg up to give Jai more room and Jai adjusts himself too. The sensation is wonderful, a stretch and burn and pressure inside. Cherry starts to bounce his hips back, seeking more friction and thrust. Jai has to use his other hand to hold him still and start pumping his finger. The sound is wet and filthy and Cherry moans again.
Eventually, one finger is two and Jai shudders at how fast Cherry's body stretches for him. It helps that Cherry knows to clench and how to move to make the slide easier. Jai's own cock throbs at the thought of Cherry doing this to himself in Lanka . Cherry's body is tight and hot inside. It's so inviting that Jai whimpers, remembering how hard he is, how much he's leaking. Still, he feels the beginning ache in his shoulder, the side he is using to hold Cherry down. The discomfort isn't enough to warrant stopping but holding himself up would still be painful. So he fucks Cherry on his fingers, his good arm flexing and pushing, his fingers wet and thick and soon it's three of them.
Cherry is moving instinctively now and being so loud. The tight feeling in his abdomen is getting stronger and the small sensitive part inside of him feels bigger. That feeling is faint, more in his core than where Jai thrusts his fingers but it's there and Cherry jerks every time Jai hooks his fingers against it. Eventually, Jai isn't pulling in and out anymore, just wiggling his fingers in short tiny thrusts, buried deep. The sensation is overwhelming, the fingers bend and thrust and that core sensation is all over. Cherry feels wild and lost and reaches back again with his hand, looking for Jai's cock, his fingers brushing the shaft, trying to grab at it. He gives up when he realizes his arms aren't long enough and whines for it.
"P-please! I want you please!" Cherry sounds so desperate it makes Jai squeeze his hip again. When Jai responds, his own voice is so broken it sounds like a stranger.
"Shh, Pandu . Not yet." Jai says. Cherry wants to cry. The response hurts so much, that it feels like a rejection.
Jai pulls his fingers out and Cherry panics but then there is a heavy weight at his side and Jai is scooping Cherry into his arms, moving him to lie on top of him. Belly to belly, chest to chest, Cherry hides himself in Jai's neck. Jai makes small adjustments for comfort, and to keep weight off his shoulder. Eventually, Jai's hand returns to Cherry's bottom, and with Cherry's legs spread enough he pushes three fingers back in. Cherry whines and puts his own fingers back in his mouth. Jai grunts and mouths at Cherry's ear.
They don't speak, they let their bodies talk for them, the wet sounds of Jai's fast fingers, the slide of warm skin as Jai pumps his hips up, his cock rubbing at whatever it can for relief, and Cherry's wild moans through the fingers in his mouth. Eventually, the tight feeling starts to crest, Cherry thrusts his hips erratically, and the heat pulses in his pelvis. Strings snap within him, muscles expand and clench and Cherry's having the most powerful orgasm of his short life.
Cherry's hands clutch skin and hair and Jai's face and nose and anything he can reach while he arches up and spasms. The noises he makes aren't whines or moans anymore but guttural wails he can't control. His body convulses at his hips and wave after wave of pleasure passes through him. He doesn't feel it concentrated on his cock or balls, he doesn't feel the familiar pulse and release of fluid there and is confused. The orgasm is all over, in every nerve ending and muscle. It doesn't explode and pass but lingers like a heavy cloud. Jai holds him tightly through it, one arm wrapped around his back and the other still thrusting wildly into him. When it finally ends Cherry sags and clutches Jai tight, making short loud noises as he tries to catch his breath. He lifts his head up with limited strength and looks down.
"Did..did I?" Cherry asks weakly, his hair even wetter than when he finished his shower, his face numb and painted red. Jai pets his face and pushes the slick hair back.
"Yes, yes Pandu ." Jai breathes and slots their mouths together, lazy tongues exploring.
Cherry doesn't forget this time. He pulls away with a smack and tries to smile. His limp, tired body pushes down Jai's and his face settles itself over Jai's cock. It doesn't take much, Cherry mouths at it, licks, presses lazy lips around it like it's melting ice and Jai is cumming. Cherry's eyes look up and catch Jai gnashing his teeth, his neck stretched. Jai's orgasm is explosive and overwhelming, from under his belly and through his cock. It's like warm honey in his blood and then suddenly it's lightning and water, rushing fast and hard against him. Jai's voice cracks and begs and his balls go tight. It ends with the sudden relief of fat ropes of heavy cum. They spring out and land around Cherry's open mouth and Jai's own thighs. Jai arches and groans and trembles with sensitivity. Cherry sighs at the feeling and lets himself go limp.
They try to breathe together, try to calm their thundering pulses. Eventually, Jai drags them both up, Cherry complaining without words. Jai has to nearly carry him to the shower, both their bodies too oily for the bed. Cherry tries to sleep standing against Jai under the spray of water. Jai gets them both washed, a kiss or two to keep Cherry awake. When they finally get to bed, Cherry realizes he will get to sleep in Jai's arms tonight. He snuggles as close as he can, his ear to Jai's heartbeat. Jai lets a hand draw up and down Cherry's skin and smiles at the small happy noises he makes as he starts to drift to sleep. Jai takes in the feel of their clean damp skin and the smell of sex they've made together. When sleep finally takes them it's heavy, deep, and dreamless.
When they wake in the morning, Jai orders Cherry enough room service to feed four and watches happily as he eats.
The file is thin and light. Jai sighs as he takes it from Kaakha’s hand.
“There isn’t much, but it is more than I thought I would find.” Kaakha sits at the breakfast table next to Jai, watching him sip his Chai and chew his bun.
“Srinivasa isn't a pseudo. They are brothers, but it isn’t two, it’s three .” Kaakha says, wary of passing the information. Jai’s blood freezes in his veins, the irony not lost on him. Kaakha’s brows furrow, worry settling into his expression.
“I don’t like whatever is going on between you and Sekhar. I want you to fix it.” Kaakha says. Jai rolls his shoulder, the soreness nearly gone now.
“I’ve had you boys since you were children. There are only four of you left now. You have to look out for each other and work together.” Kaakha swallows. His throat tight with difficult memories. Jai grunts and tilts his head.
“We aren’t ch-ch-children anymore.” Jai says firmly but winces at Kaakha’s sullen expression. “I don’t want to lose Sekhar either.” Jai finishes.
Kaakha sways his head softly, showing his appreciation. Jai tries to focus on the file in his hand. He thumbs through it and scans the information.
“Upper caste? Affluent.” Jai mumbles. Kaakha swallows.
“It surprised me too, at first. Then it made sense. Men handed every privilege and comfort would feel entitled like this.” Kaakha sighs and pulls at his mustache.
“I found a connect. He trusts me. I can set up a meeting soon.” Kaakha says it so easily Jai nearly startles. Kaakha smiles ruefully at the reaction.
“I’m old Baaludu but I'm still useful. I did teach you everything you know.” Kaakha laughs at this and Jai smiles with him. Kaakha’s smile fades slowly and his face grows sad.
“I don’t agree with this. I think you’re going to get yourself killed. I guess I always knew I would watch you die. At least it’s for something you believe in.” Kaakha turns his gaze away, his eyes going wet. Jai watches him before reaching a hand out, placing it gently over Kaakha’s.
“I’m stronger than you think. You ta-taught me everything I know.” Jai lets his mustache turn up on one side as Kaakha collects himself and sways his head. He stands to leave, stretching his back and groaning.
“Oh, before I forget. I have that man you asked for. We dropped him into the basement last night.” Kaakha winks and turns, waving a hand behind him as he walks away.
“Taught you everything you know Baaludu! ”
Cherry lets out a groan and leans on his hands. The floor is so filthy! He was only gone a few days in New Delhi and already this haveli is a mess. He leans back frustrated and puts his hands on his hips. He supposes the hassle was worth it though. Cherry’s face colors remembering the time he and Jai spent at the hotel. His heart swells every time he thinks of Jai now, it fills him with air and he feels like he’s floating. He laughs at himself for being such a sappy fellow and bends back down to continue scrubbing, humming the song that plays on his tablet. As though manifested by thought alone, Jai appears in the hallway Cherry is cleaning, smiling at the way Cherry startles and stands. Cherry brushes at his knees and half laughs, moving for an embrace when Jai stops him.
"I have another gift." Jai explains then turns to lead them both away.
They walk through the haveli together, Cherry resisting the urge to laugh and smile at how sweet and generous Jai has been lately. They pass through different rooms and halls before coming to a familiar area of the fort. Cherry remembers it from the first few days after he arrived in Lanka . A steep staircase leading to an old wooden door with an unpolished knob. Something in Cherry’s gut pulls. He remembers the smell and gets nervous. Jai descends the steps gently and looks back up to Cherry at the top of the staircase. His expression is unreadable. Jai holds his hand out and waits. A beat passes but Cherry swallows, straightens his spine, and takes Jai’s hand to follow him down the stairs.
Jai uses an old key, long and thin. The door opens on a sharp creak and the smell crashes over them like a wave. Rotting wood, iron, wet skin, sweat, and mold. Cherry almost covers his nose with his hand but resists. He feels a cold wave crash over him as he passes through the doorframe into darkness. The room is nearly pitch dark. Instead of colder it feels warm and humid, sweat prickles at Cherry’s temples. His eyes start to adjust to the darkness when Jai pulls on a chain and one lightbulb dangling from the ceiling clicks on. The light sways and its beam slashes through the room like a knife. Cherry’s eyes take time to focus but when he steps properly into the room he sees him.
A man kneels on the floor, in the middle of the empty room, damp concrete under his knees. He’s handcuffed and naked, the chain from his restraints looped through a ring bolted to the floor. The man shakes, his body drawn in tight to his knees and his head down, long wavy curls hiding his face. Cherry watches drool draw down to the floor and hears him whimper. Cherry looks from the man to Jai and then back to the man, confused and scared. The wet air feels like the clammy fingers of the dead, reaching and grabbing for him to join them.
Jai steps closer to the naked man on the floor. Cherry swallows thickly as he watches, his pulse thumping wildly. Jai puts his foot on the man’s shoulder and pushes. The man groans and whimpers. Cherry sees blood on his chin and when Jai pushes again the man’s head lulls back, curls framing his face thinly, like they're trying to protect him.
“You’ve met?” Jai whispers in Cherry’s direction. Cherry gives Jai a confused expression, something tinted with fear. He has to squint and focus to study the man’s face in the dark. His stomach roils and twists when he sees what he’s looking at. Nani . The man from the bar. The man who drugged him and tried to take him away.
Cherry’s eyes well and he looks around the room wildly, not understanding what’s happening terrified of what Jai is doing this for. Jai hums and circles the room calmly, his shoes clicking loudly against the concrete. He stops at a small table near the wall. Cherry sees it holds lathis and knives and brass knuckles and a dark familiar box. Terror races through Cherry’s veins and he stands frozen. He recognizes the box. Jai opens it and takes out what's inside, he circles back to Cherry, facing him, holding the gun he gave him.
"Kill him." Jai hands out the gun, waiting for Cherry to take it. Nani cries out, it’s hoarse and exhausted and desperate. Cherry flinches at the noise.
“Please… garu ….please forgive me!” Nani wails. His voice is sharp and painful. Cherry’s throat bobs as he swallows, his eyes stinging with tears. Jai watches them both with a blank expression.
“I’m looking for someone.” Jai starts and clicks his tongue. “Our meeting in New Delhi? Shurpanakha is looking for him too. I was su-suprised to learn Nani works for this person. How strange the universe can be so-sometimes. Nani has been a big help.” Jai’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He tilts his head and studies the man shivering on the floor.
“Please don’t do this.” Nani slurs, blood drooling down his chin, his teeth stained red and one eye swollen. Jai puts his foot on Nani’s back to quiet him.
“Nani’s job is to find product. He sp-sp-specializes in young boys . Yes, Nani?” Nani doesn’t respond, only sobs and lowers his head back down. The gun in Cherry’s hand is heavy and limp, his arm starts to tremble. Jai looks back to Cherry like it’s a joke.
“He thought you were a teenager, bujji .” Jai smiles again. The endearment sounds sour to Cherry’s ears. Jai walks back to him and puts a hand on his cheek.
“He drugs them, sells them to men who buy yo-young boys. They hollow out their bodies and eat their hearts like wolves. He wanted to do it to you. Y-Y-You were nothing to him but a cut of meat.” Jai’s expression is hard now, his jaw flexes, and his pupils are wide. Cherry feels a fire in his chest, a rage he hasn’t felt in so long.
“He decided you were s-small and kind and young and you liked men. You didn’t deserve your body. You didn’t deserve your l-life.” Jai whispers it like a serpent, close to Cherry’s face, watching as tears slip down his cheek.
Cherry lets out a heavy breath and his hands fumble with the gun. He tries to remember Shatru’s lessons, the positions of his hands, his shoulders, his feet. His hand shakes as he aims the gun down. He checks the safety, keeping his finger off the trigger, pulls the hammer, and aims with his eyes. Jai grabs Cherry’s wrist and pulls, moving Cherry forward and forcing the end of the barrel to Nani’s head.
“No! No! No! Please! Amma! Amma! ” Nani is screaming and convulsing with sobs, snot covering his upper lip. Cherry catches a sudden stench and sees the reflection of a growing puddle as Nani starts to urinate. Jai laughs and shoves the gun barrel harder against his skull. Nani cries quietly now, accepting his fate. Cherry cries with him, small terrible noises coming from his chest. Jai sighs.
“Kill him, Cherry.” Jai orders it.
Cherry’s trigger finger trembles, he wills it to bend, he begs it to. His mother’s hand holds it back, cups the hands that hold the weapon, and lets him know he isn’t alone.
Her blood seeps through his fingers. She breathes deeply when she speaks, her voice only a whisper. “Be a good man. Be a strong man. Only be kind.” She smiles slowly, her lips and teeth red. Cherry is only a child, his sobs are so quiet. “My little Chirutha.” Her breath comes out like a death rattle. Like she wants him to take part of her soul with him.
Cherry yells, the noise is guttural and full of pain. It bounces off the walls like electricity. He pulls the gun back and hits Nani’s head with the blunt end. It drops next to them as Nani sags and Cherry runs. He stumbles and falls through the door and up the creaking stairs and when he hears the gunshot, sharp like the crack of lightning, he stumbles again and cries out. Cherry runs through the haveli, he runs for his life, he runs for his mother and he runs for himself.
Jai wipes his hands on a clean cloth and puts the gun away. He floats through Lanka like a ghost. He knows where to go, where to find him. The theatre room is soft and warm, a haven for the lost souls who pass through it. He enters and finds the space torn apart. Costumes strewn all over, jewels and crowns scattered, a small crack in one of the standing mirrors. He finds a pile of fabric trembling in the corner. Cherry hides in it, sobbing, a bed made similar to the one they kissed in.
“ Pandu. ” Jai pleads softly. “I know you didn’t kill that child. You took the fall for a politician. Money for your mother’s surgery.” Cherry’s eyes are red and wide and his face is painted with terror. Jai squats to face him, his own face soft and earnest.
“Y-You’re strong. I think you’re st-stronger than me.” Jai swallows “There was an accident when I was young. I lit a fire. Two children died.” Cherry’s face falls at the confession. Jai tries to move closer but Cherry flinches. Jai understands.
“Why? Why did you do that?” Cherry asks, his voice a whisper, tears still falling down his face.
“I needed t-to know….. If you really belong here.” Jai smiles, it’s sad and full of loneliness. “I’m so happy you don’t.” Cherry’s face crumples and he sobs. Jai can’t comfort him. Jai can’t stay. He rises and turns on his heel, walking out of the room.
Jai watches the ceiling in the dark. A familiar numb emptiness settles in his chest. The hole is a comfort, a truth validated once again. Cherry needed to know, needed to see the reality of what it means to be like Jai, what it means to live in Lanka. What it means to live among demons. What it means to try and get close to you a wretched voice whispers in his heart. Small hands, fire, the smell of burning flesh. The memories terrorize him and reach out like thins hands with claws in the dark.
Jai hears the scrape of wood and the hands vanish. He can smell Cherry before he sees him. He pulls himself from the bed and stands, naked, in the dark. Jai faces Cherry and Cherry’s eyes look clear. They don’t speak, only watch each other, so much and so little space between them. Cherry raises his hand without looking at it. Jai studies what looks like a crumpled piece of trash in his palm and furrows his brows.
“I found this in your trash bin. I’m returning it.” Jai’s confusion grows, and he studies the object again. It takes a moment for his eyes to recognize it but when he does they widen and his face pales. A condom. A used condom. A used condom with Jai’s cum still in it, tied off at the neck.
“I’ve had it under my pillow for 5 weeks. Do you masturbate with a condom on? I check in on you every few nights so I know you aren’t fucking anyone else.” Cherry says with a scoff. Jai gapes, his mouth opens and closes to respond but nothing comes out.
“Can I have a new one, please?” Cherry asks.
Cherry takes the used condom with two fingers and places it gently on the table beside Jai’s bed. Jai swallows, at a loss for words, and watches as Cherry opens the table drawer, knowing where Jai keeps his condoms. Cherry holds the new foil packet in his teeth and shifts to remove his sleep clothes. Once he’s naked, Cherry kneels at Jai’s feet and tears the foil packet open. Jai watches him, still in shock at what’s unfolding, surprised to see himself hard.
When did that happen?
Cherry looks up at Jai and smiles as he rolls the condom on. Jai lets out a long breath, his toes curling against the floor. It all happens so fast, Cherry’s mouth sinks down and it’s hot and the inside of the condom is wet and he’s already as hard as iron. Jai watches his mouth move and eventually, the shine of Cherry’s tongue ring flashes against the moonlight. Cherry pulls off with a wet sound and replaces his mouth with his hand.
“I steal a lot of your things. Clothing, jewelry, the bar soap you use in the shower, sometimes handwritten notes you take about work.” Cherry shrugs as he continues to pull on Jai’s cock. “When I make your chai, I steep it with a jasmine petal. My mother told me Jasmine brings a husband." Cherry laughs.
Jai lets out a long groan, his knees starting to shake. The long tight strokes on his cock get faster. Cherry starts to pant too. Jai realizes he has a hand on himself, stroking wildly. Cherry puts his mouth back on Jai’s cock and sucks happily. Jai can’t calculate how much time has passed but suddenly Cherry is cumming, his mouth squeezing, the back of his throat vibrating with moans. Jai watches Cherry pull off again, his eyelids heavy and cheeks flushed, stroking Jai tight and fast again. When Jai cums, he’s mesmerized at the sight of the condom filling, pulse after pulse, making the latex stretch and the end pull down with the weight of it.
Cherry smacks his lips happily and gently pulls at the used rubber. When it’s off he ties it gently and stands on wobbling legs. He smiles at Jai then moves to circle the bed. Jai lets himself sag and sits heavily on the edge of the mattress. He turns to watch Cherry lift the unused pillow, place the tied and filled condom under it, then pat it back in place
“Cherry?” Jai’s voice is thin and weak. Cherry ignores him.
Cherry crawls into the bed and covers himself with the bedding, resting his head on the special pillow. He turns to Jai and smiles again.
“I think I do belong here.” Cherry whispers. “Can I stay?”
Jai’s eyes go wet, a sudden rush through his body, mingling in the afterglow of his orgasm. Jai stretches his body and reaches for Cherry. He moves under the bedding and curls around Cherry like a terrified animal, resting his head against Cherry’s heartbeat. Cherry puts a hand to his hair and pets, his eyes watching the tangle of vines on Jai’s window sill, illuminated by the moon. After a moment Jai leans up to find Cherry’s mouth, kissing and whispering his answer between them.
Chapter 10: Illu
Summary:
Cherry and Jai settle in.
Chapter Text
“I have to admit, I’m impressed with your work so far. The campaign trail has never run smoother.” Sarkaar smiles at Jai and sips his Chai.
Kaakha offers a warm expression and folds his hands in his lap. The three sit in the main hall, Jai’s throne pulled to the center. Tapan and Shatru stand close by.
“You won’t have any more trouble with the police force or village resistance.” Kaakha informs him smoothly. Sarkaar smiles, clearly pleased with today’s meeting, and places down his glass, moving to stand. Jai clears his throat before he can and speaks loudly in the quiet hall.
“A question, be-before you go.” Jai says. Sarkaar raises an eyebrow and leans back into his seat.
“We’ve recently been made aware of an o-o-organization, run by a group of brothers.” Jai says. Kaakha’s eyes slant to the side and he watches Jai with a locked jaw.
“We are told they deal with products unlike ours. Something lu-lucrative and delicate. Something that requires-” Jai swallows. “-tact.” He finishes with a glint in his eye. Sarkaar puts his tongue to his teeth and folds his own hands slowly.
“I’ve heard whispers. Terrible things. Men who will trade anything for money and power.” Sarkaar speaks almost in a whisper. His eyes flash hard and flat.
“I pride myself in the e-empire I’ve built. It spreads to every corner. To learn a m-market exists that I myself have no flesh in. It’s almost insulting.” Jai tries to smile, to play the confession lightly. Sarkaar hums but looks unconvinced.
"I have colleagues whose understandings are better than mine. Have you spoken to anyone else?” Sarkaar is fishing and Jai’s eyes squint as he sees his way in.
“A m-meeting is being arranged, but, before that, I wanted your advice. You deal with m-more men in politics than we do. I’d hate to embarrass myself.” Jai smiles and pulls at the edge of his mustache. He can hear Kaakha muffle a sigh. Sarkaar barks a laugh and his shoulders ease. He touches his own facial hair and considers his words carefully before answering.
“Negotiate your first price. Deals like this can set a precedence that results in insults if questioned later. You don’t want to get locked into overpaying.”
The glass vase flies through the hall and lands with a sharp crash, pieces of glass flying in all directions.
“You kn-knew! All th-this time!” Jai yells, his voice high like a predator. Kaakha holds out his palms, Shatru and Tapan stand to the side, unsure if they should step in.
“I suspected .” Kaakha offers, keeping his voice steady. Jai hasn’t had an outburst in years but Kaakha still knows how to handle them. “It’s what led me to our contact. I’m not sure if Sarkaar knew beforehand, but it’s only a positive we brought it to the table first.”
“POSITIVE?!” Jai yells. Kaakha steps back as Jai’s body swells in anger. “You think w-we will still su-support him?! I’ll tear down all of Lanka be-be-before I let him take that s-seat.”
“We still aren’t sure!” Kaakha is yelling now too. “He could have read it as a test and met our bluff! The violence that would erupt if you went against him would destroy us! Raavan please!”
“Then I’ll g-gut them. Cut S-S-Srinivasa from neck to belly and st-string their insides across my ki-ki-kingdom.” Jai’s voice is a hiss, the words spit in anger. “We’ll know then w-where his loyalties lie.”
“What is this?” Kaakha whispers. “You haven’t spoken like this since-” Kaakha swallows, his eyes wide and afraid. “ -Rohini .” Jai’s face explodes at the name. Kaakha regrets it immediately. Shatru finally moves, a gentle hand on Jai’s arm, his eyes conveying tenderness. Jai deflates.
“You are keeping something from me.” Kaakha’s voice is sad. “There is something more to this.” Jai won’t look at his mentor. He watches Tapan and Shatru look at each other and then back to him, an understanding passing between the three of them.
“We will m-meet Srinivasa." Jai concedes. "I will decide how we infiltrate after . I will ask about S-Sarkaar myself .” Jai’s eyes find Shatru again and he swallows. Kaakha's eyes scan all three of them wildly, still afraid. Jai finally moves to look at Kaakha.
"I won't make any decisions without you." Jai's voice is firmer, the high emotions passing. Kaakha takes a deep breath, still unsure, but sways his head in approval. When he turns to leave, he stops to look back at Jai with hard eyes.
"Sekhar should have been at that meeting too." They all ignore it with difficulty and Jai turns to leave. Tapan and Shatru follow. Once they are all far enough away, Shatru gets close to Jai's ear.
"After all this time?" Shatru asks. "He still doesn't know?" Jai doesn't look at them as he walks.
"There would be no p-point. It's not something he can fix. It would just cause him pain." Jai responds. Tapan pulls at the chain on his wrist.
"He didn't love her like we did." Tapan whispers. Shatru's face shifts into sorrow and he turns on his heel, walking in a different direction.
Jai feels Tapan fall away as well but Jai doesn't stop them. He needs to be alone too. That isn't the truth, he knows where he needs to be and naturally starts heading in that direction. He passes through long halls and empty rooms until he reaches the two large doors.
Jai feels a wash of relief when he steps inside and finds what he's looking for. The theater room is organized again and still bright with color. A small patch of tape covers the crack in the standing mirror, and music from Cherry's tablet bounces off the walls.
dorlukuntu vastundi konda meedi kothi!"
Cherry sings along with the song, off-key and very loudly. His back is turned to Jai and he sits with crossed legs on the floor, jewelry surrounding him. As Jai moves quietly closer, he can see Cherry is trying to repair some broken earrings and checking the rest of the thrown jewelry for damage. Jai just stands for a few moments, taking in the sight before him. Cherry is washed in color and light, his hair reflecting all of it. The singing is awful and still, it makes something in Jai's chest expand and fill the rest of him with warmth.
Things have been soft and timid between them since the basement. There isn't any apprehension, the experience solidified something within both of them. They are no longer skirting around each other. They have seen the worst parts and can't be persuaded away. This is new, a sudden gentleness at the idea of solid ground under their feet. They have to be careful, they have to not rush. The connection is suddenly so overwhelming to Jai that he can no longer resist getting closer.
Jai walks as quietly as he can, and moves to sit gently behind Cherry. Cherry turns his head up playfully once he feels Jai behind him. He laughs and scrunches his face as Jai kisses his head on the way down. Once Jai is sitting, he pulls Cherry against him, enveloping him in his arms. Cherry smells like clean clothing and flowers. Jai wonders if he wears fragrance or if that's just him.
Cherry hums and grabs at the tablet to lower the volume, then continues with his work, tinkering with the jewelry as Jai showers Cherry in affection. A kiss on his head again, near his ear, at his shoulder, and then back to his neck. Cherry squirms at the attention but smiles and huffs, not taking his focus away from his project. Jai pulls stubbornly at Cherry's hand and kisses it too, then each finger at the knuckle. Cherry huffs again and leans back into the embrace, letting Jai press their mouths together. It is lips and facial hair and the swipe of a tongue. Cherry pulls back with a blush at how soft Jai's gaze lingers.
"I have to fix these." Cherry wiggles the one earring he has left in his free hand.
"You don't. I can b-buy new ones." Jai offers in between a new set of kisses. Cherry makes a disappointed sound and tosses the earring into the pile.
"I broke it, I should fix it." Cherry muses but lets himself rest in Jai's hold, his head leaning against his shoulder.
"When do you use this room? I've never seen it. Do people come to perform?" Cherry asks and Jai laughs.
"I used to perform as a ch-child." Jai answers. Cherry leans his head back and raises his eyebrows. Jai smiles.
"We'd travel up and down the coast. All the epic d-d-dramas." Jai says fondly.
"I built this room slowly and had a few p-preformances-" Jai pauses, apprehensive. "-Rohini loved it." Cherry isn't upset at the mention but he tucks his gaze away. He lets his fingers pull at a loose thread on Jai's sleeve, tugging playfully.
"That game you told me about last week." Cherry clears his throat, suddenly shy. "Did you play with her?" Cherry looks up at Jai through his lashes, as sweetly as he can. A smile spreads slowly over Jai's face.
"No. I thought that up just for you." Jai whispers. Cherry tugs hard on the thread until it snaps.
"I've been practicing." Cherry smiles too.
Cherry runs through the theater room quickly, keeping his footsteps light and soft. Trying to be quiet feels useless considering how sharp the bells rattle on his ankles. He is also struggling to contain his laughter, sharp, wild little sounds he tries to restrain behind a palm. He hears wood creaking and fabric rustling and runs faster to find a hiding spot. When he ducks behind a clothing rack he hears Jai's voice call out. The deep timber carries weight and bounces off the walls like the voice of a deva .
"It is u-useless little lotus flower!" Jai booms. Cherry peaks through the fabric as Jai reveals himself.
Jai stands tall in fine garments, the colors bright and royal. On his head, he wears a tall crown, heavy with gold and jewels. As he speaks, he swings his gada . It rotates up and over his shoulder, ready for battle.
"My arms reach in all directions!" Jai's voice echoes in the hall. "I ru-ru-rule in every astra . I can find any dove, traitor, or blade of grass!"
Jai grins as he pushes further into the room. He can hear Cherry's muffled giggling and lets himself smile wider. Cherry springs to stand and face his captor. He holds his blade of grass tightly in his hand and sways it around like a weapon. Jai has a moment of weakness as his face tries to break, but he schools it and settles on an expression of command.
"Oh cursed Jackal! You basely demon!" Cherry yells and puts on his most convincing expression of disgust. "It is impossible for you to touch me!"
Jai throws his head back and laughs ruefully. Cherry's smile fights to break through. Jai laughs like a cartoon villain and Cherry finds it so endearing. Cherry lifts an edge of the pink chiffon veil that covers his head and holds it above his nose in modesty, his long dark lashes fluttering. Jai circles the clothing rack to face Cherry before speaking again. He draws one finger slowly under his mustache and curls the end through his dialogue.
"I am Ravana, King of the Titans, in fear of wh-whom the world, the Gods, titans, and men t-t-temble." Jai says it low and close, the heat of Cherry's blush a motivator. "Since I beheld you shining like go-gold, clad in silk, nothing finds favor with me."
"Sinful and deplorable conduct! To covet me so shamelessly!" Cherry accuses and starts to walk backward, watching as Jai takes slow steps to follow him.
"My husband will come for me! He is one who has steadied himself in righteousness and he will lead you to your annihilation!" Cherry tosses the thin blade of grass at Jai playfully and watches it sway through the air.
Jai chuckles again and continues to walk Cherry toward their bed, the new nest they made together. A construct under the guise of play but a subtle attempt to forgive and repair. Cherry feels his heels hit the mountain of fabric and the bells on his ankles ring out. Cherry swallows in heavy anticipation and arousal.
"You desirest a lion but art no more able to possess me than grasp the light of the sun." Cherry says without heat. He watches as Jai lowers his gada gently and pushes closer, their faces now nose to nose. "You wretch." Cherry finishes unconvincingly. Jai tilts his head and shows his teeth.
"I am a conqueror of my pa-passions, and you enlight the flame. I would worship you with it." Jai whispers. Cherry's breath hitches and his face colors, his lips tilting forward.
"I am steadfast and loyal. You cannot bear me away." Cherry says weakly.
"How high does your husband's fire b-burn? Does it keep you warm?" Jai asks, his hand coming to Cherry's hip, squeezing gently. Cherry's ears burn and his legs wobble. Jai tilts his head and speaks to Cherry's ear, through the thin fabric.
"Do you respond with wet petals , little lotus?" Cherry takes in a heavy breath and his eyelids droop. His body sags, wanting to lean into Jai's embrace further.
"P-please Prabhu… .do not compromise my purity." Cherry swallows as he pleads, his eyes closed in bliss, his mouth agape and pink tongue showing.
Jai's hand wanders like a snake, down between Cherry's thighs. Cherry gasps. Every movement Jai makes evokes the light twinkling sounds of the jewels and gold in his crown. They sing to Cherry like a siren. Jai lowers them both gently to the makeshift bed and pulls Cherry's body to his own roughly. He grunts as he settles. Cherry half yelps and clutches Jai's shoulders. The crown tilts and Jai makes an annoyed sound. He pulls at the headdress and places it next to them. Cherry smiles at how his hair twists in different ways and sticks up.
"Too heavy." Jai whispers, then shifts his expression to return to the game. "Let our purity and in-in-innocence burn. My fire is yours, it turns to muscle and swells and softens and la-laps at nectar."
Jai pulls roughly at the viel, fanning Cherry's silky hair and the dangling gold earrings that nestle. He mouths at Cherry's neck and Cherry moans. Jai's hips shift and rotate and Cherry's legs fall open for him. Jai turns his head to Cherry's mouth and speaks against it.
"Wander with me in the groves and forget the forest." Jai whispers and Cherry sighs.
They press forward together. The kiss is deep and wet, both their noses flushed with arousal. Jai pulls and lifts the long kurta Cherry wears as a mock saree, knowing he's wearing nothing underneath. It exposes Cherry's swollen cock and makes him squirm. Jai admires the way Cherry's belly bends and folds, and the sparse black hair under his belly button. Cherry feels the attention and tries to convey shame but it only reads as desperate need. Jai pulls with one hand at his own pants and returns to Cherry's mouth. His hips align and their cocks push together. Cherry makes a long noise at the sensation and clutches Jai tightly.
They move together from memory now. It's wet and hot and Jai's hips pump against the sounds of his own heavy grunts. Cherry's legs bend and his feet bounce in the air. The movement makes a song of tinkling bells and Cherry's entire body pulses in excitement. He can feel the coarse hair on Jai's thighs brush against his own. His hands map Jai's belly and push under his kurta to feel more skin and fur, moving to his back to feel the same. Jai makes a wobbling sound through the kiss and Cherry moves hands to his hair, tugging the short strands at his neck.
"Ne-Nectar." Jai whispers into Cherry's open mouth before slinking down to nestle his face below Cherry's pelvis.
Cherry groans as Jai takes his thighs in both hands and pushes up. Jai's mouth explores like it did before, around Cherry's cock, over his balls and perineum, and flat against his hole. Jai licks and kisses, his facial hair rough against Cherry's skin. Cherry squirms and makes noise with each sensation. When Jai sits back up, Cherry takes his opening and pounces. He uses his weight to push at Jai, forcing him on his back with Cherry straddling his lap. Jai makes a noise of surprise but goes limp. Cherry lifts up, pulling Jai's cock to the front so it can press against his own and then he moves. He keeps his palms flat on Jai's chest and thrusts forward. He rotates and squirms and tries to emulate the videos he's seen on his tablet. It makes him feel filthy and warm, desperate to cum. Desperate to make Jai feel good.
Jai makes an attempt to take control, wrapping large hands around Cherry's waist. They push back and forth, trying to direct his motion. Jai feels a swell of pride at the thin layer of fat over Cherry's hips and belly. Something that wasn't there before. Jai moves his hands around to feel it and squeeze. Cherry is eating well in Lanka . He is cared for. Jai's cock throbs at the thought. He passes a hand back over Cherry's belly and enjoys the fine hair under his fingers. Cherry groans again and his hips speed up.
It feels good to lie back, the bed is soft, and watching Cherry like this is intoxicating. Cherry stops to reach for his own kurta and flings it off in one motion, his hips still thrust, and Jai's hands go fast to Cherry's nipples. The added sensation causes them both to moan. Cherry's fingers bend on Jai's chest in an invisible grip and he makes a frustrated noise. Suddenly Cherry is lifting again, grabbing at the base of Jai's cock and trying to align it back. The head catches on Cherry's rim and Jai jolts.
"No, no!" Jai pulls Cherry's hips forward to stop him.
Jai grunts deep in his chest and keeps his eyes closed, trying to settle the heartbeat in his pelvis. Cherry lifts a hand off Jai's chest and slaps it back down in frustration.
"Why?!" Cherry pleads. Jai laughs in a breath at the look of rejection.
"N-No. You aren't ready and I'm…too close.." Jai laughs again and closes his eyes, swallowing against the surge of arousal.
Cherry slaps his hand down again and Jai grunts louder. Jai redirects, pulling and pushing Cherry back against the nest and settling himself on top. The movement turns to a playful struggle, Cherry fighting the new position, trying to get out from under Jai, laughing as their arms and hands tangle. Eventually, Jai is able to flip a whimpering Cherry onto his belly. Jai uses his weight for strength and pins Cherry's wrists down with one hand. He yanks at his pants again with the other, pulling one leg out and letting the fabric hang. Then he's pressing Cherry's legs together to sit under his thighs. Jai eventually lets Cherry's wrists go and Cherry's hand immediately moves to under his belly, desperately pulling on his hard cock as his hips rotate and tilt back, wanting touch and attention.
Jai grabs for the small tube in his breast pocket and uses his teeth to tug off the cap. Cherry hears a wet noise and moans at the familiar feel of slick between his thighs. He realizes how close he is too, the excitement of play getting them both there very fast. His belly warms, his muscles go soft and he feels Jai lean close, the heat of Jai's body heavy above him. Jai lifts the end of his Kurta and sticks it in his mouth so he can coat his cock with the remaining slick. he leans down and lines himself up.
"To maintain your purity." Jai growls, muffled by the fabric between his teeth, and slips his cock between Cherry's thighs.
Cherry moans high and his orgasm cracks like a bundle of sticks. His hips thrust back and forth, his cock fucking his fist as it pulses and his entire body flushing with pleasure. Jai warbles too, he thrusts roughly, pushing Cherry's hips around with the harsh movement, watching his ass bounce and wobble. Jai stutters as he sees' himself disappear in and out between Cherry's thighs and it's enough. The feeling explodes, rushing through his blood, squeezing his balls, making his cock harder than iron. He pulls back roughly, one leg bending to lift, and uses a hand to push at one of Cherry's cheeks. He holds a thumb over it to keep it spread and the other hand to stroke himself. The skin sliding over his cock is thin as it pulls back and forth. Everything is slick with lubricant. Jai's eyes focus on Cherry's hole, the fine hair there, and the dark textured skin. The warm balloon under his belly pops and arousal rushes through like molten lead. Jai starts to moan and whine and cums in long heavy ropes, aiming for Cherry's hole, possessive. Cherry shudders at the warm and filthy sensation and Jai's body sags in long groans.
It takes a moment to catch their breath, Jai drops the shirt from his teeth and wipes at the drool that dribbles down his chin. When Jai finally collapses into the fabric, Cherry inches himself close and rests over him, the soft planes of his exposed body trembling. Jai rubs at the skin and muscle to soothe him. Jai eventually catches his breath long enough to clean them, grabbing another scarf or saree or kurta, he isn't sure. Jai licks his lips, keeping his eyes shut, willing his breathing to even out. Cherry kisses and presses close to Jai's still-covered chest. They lie there together in silence, the hum of their breathing and heartbeats a comfort. It's only when Cherry feels the soft pull of sleep that Jai speaks.
"Lotus flower. You w-would stay in Lanka ? Rule this kingdom with me?" Jai says it so quietly. Cherry lifts himself and smiles, softening the moment.
"Will you lie under the mountain and sing my praises for a thousand years?" Cherry whispers and Jai hides how his face warms with a kiss. He hums when he lies back down, not needing an answer.
"I've been thinking I want to end up in a village. The city reminds me of the lockup. Hot and noisy and crowded. Maybe I could grow food or chickens?" Cherry talks wistfully, the orgasm making his tongue loose. Jai only hums and rubs at Cherry's back.
"I could have a puppy there." Cherry says it drowsily, close to falling asleep. Jai kisses his head and shifts to rouse him.
"We can't stay." Jai says apologetically. I have work and I know you're hungry "
Cherry laughs but moves to sit up. They dress together, moving slowly, not wanting to leave their bubble. It takes twice as long, too many kisses interrupting them. When they are finally dressed and ready to leave, Jai steals one last long kiss, laughter passing back and forth between them. Everything is quiet and perfect and then suddenly they are startled by a loud crash and a muffled voice.
They both turn sharply, their lips making a loud smack at the interruption. They watch as Kaakha, face washed with shock, turns on his heel through the open door. Kaakha leaves the dropped tiffin dabba on the ground, lemon rice, and vegetables strewn all over. Jai follows him immediately, ignoring Cherry's protests. Jai follows Kaakha as he rushes down the hall, he's fast for his age, his stocky body bouncing with heavy footsteps.
"KAAKHA!" Jai calls, his voice heavy and loud. Kaakha turns immediately, his face angry and eyes wet.
"How can you be so foolish!? The danger this puts us in!" Kaakha yells, his hands moving in the air erratically.
"Danger?" Jai asks, genuinely confused.
"After what happened with Rohini , and the mess with Sarkaar, and this suicide mission you are so devoted to!" Kaakha's eyes look wild now and his nostrils flare.
"What does R-Rohini have to-" Jai asks but is immediately interrupted.
"Sekhar had instincts about this-this boy ! Maybe we should have listened!" Kaakha waves a finger.
"STOP! He isn't-" Jai tries again but Kaakha is too angry to give him space to speak.
"How do you know!? And if he isn't!? You know where this leads! You've seen it!" Kaakha's voice is wild and raw. Memories race through Jai's mind but he doesn't speak, unwilling to make the connection.
"Indira, she-" Kaakha's voice cracks and he looks away. Jai's heart clenches, his own eyes reflecting sorrow.
Flashes of Indira's body on wet steps, the blood that pooled at Kaakha's feet, the wails of agony pressed to the limp body of his wife. Her soft hands and gentle smile, the way she'd feed Jai with her hand. The rain poured down in sheets that night, Jai was still so young, seeing Kaakha so broken and frail terrified him. Jai witnessed true violence for the first time that week. The way Kaakha responded, like a lion made of gold, the mother on his back, ready to enact wrath. It taught Jai a lesson he was already familiar with. You will lose anyone you love doing this work.
Kaakha's face suddenly hardens, his own memories too thick to swallow. His gaze goes flat and his lips press into a line.
"I've taught you nothing ."
Jai doesn't drink alcohol but tonight he has a glass. The toddy is sweet and light and calms his ragged nerves. He's in a private study, close to his room, and Shatru and Tapan sit with him.
"Tell me." Jai speaks to his glass and Tapan clears his throat.
"He's acting strange. It isn't anything specific but his men say he looks….scared." Tapan says. Jai raises an eyebrow.
"That tells us no-nothing. He's always been-" Jai searches for the right word. "-Different."
"His accounts are balanced, he isn't skimming, and he finishes his rotations." Shatru adds. Jai wants to scoff but takes another drink instead.
"It sounds like you have nothing." Jai muses.
"We thought so too. It was such a relief but-" Tapan licks at his lips and winces. "We followed him. He met with someone." Tapan finishes and gently pulls out a small envelope.
" Maharaj , we heard his name. Sekhar spoke to him like they've met before." Shatru's voice is sad. Jai puts a hand to his temple and covers his eyes.
"Srinivasa." Jai whispers the name in defeat.
"It's not just the meeting it's- There's more." Tapan takes a breath and holds out the envelope for Jai to take.
Jai opens it gingerly, terrified of what he will find. Inside is a single photograph. When he reveals it to the light his stomach drops. The photo is dark, clearly taken at night, but the men are unmistakable. Sekhar stands and speaks with a tall man, shrouded in deep shadow, only parts of himself illuminated by streetlamps.
Srinivasa . One of the three brothers.
They aren't alone. Jai's hand trembles, willing the image to shift, change into something else, show Jai it isn't real. The photo doesn't change, it's clear and angry in its truth. Standing with Sekhar, speaking to Srinivasa, dressed almost entirely in white like he's attending a funeral-
Kaakha.
It’s dark and Jai can't sleep. The events of the day weigh heavily on his heart. He feels numb to it all now. Every corner of his life threatened and unstable. The mentor he trusted may have betrayed him. The men he's known since childhood, he would call brothers if he were strong enough, splintering. Suddenly Cherry might not be safe. Jai swallows that last one with difficulty, hoping to destroy it within him, and make it untrue. Jai's thoughts swirl deeper and deeper and when he thinks it will finally break him, he's interrupted by the creek of wood and patter of bare feet.
Cherry enters the room quietly and crawls under the bedding. Jai can smell his clean scent and the floral lotion he uses on his elbows. Jai feels a pull to admonish the presumptuous behavior, but Cherry’s body is such a comfort. Jai's heart is stretched thin and he needs Cherry’s skin, his breath, his thin arms around his neck. Cherry holds him from behind, his belly to Jai's back. He feels Cherry’s feet at his calves and hums. The bed is warm now, and Jai feels safe. Cherry puts his hands on Jai's skin and then his lips, trying to offer comfort. Jai hums against the attention but doesn't speak.
"I'm sorry Kaakha saw us. Is it very bad?" Cherry whispers. Jai feels the first pulse of relief, a light laugh, and a breath of clean air.
"No Bujji , it isn't that." Jai's voice is hoarse and he swallows against the tightness in his throat.
"Can I help? I'll add pepper to his Chai tomorrow!" Jai scoffs happily and turns to show his face. Cherry looks beautiful and kind, as always.
"Or we can have a terrible fight. Pretend to end things and go back to being secret." Cherry waggles his eyebrows mischievously and it makes Jai smile again.
"No." Jai swallows again and places a hand on Cherry's cheek. "I don't keep s-secrets, remember?" Cherry leans into Jai's hand and sighs. Cherry pauses to think then blurts out a confession.
"I don't put jasmine in his tea you know." Jai laughs at the outburst and nuzzles close to Cherry's neck. The sensation makes Cherry squirm and bark out a laugh. Jai pulls back with a question.
"What do you do with all the th-things of mine you take?" Cherry colors at the question but then softens, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.
"I use most of it but, I do have a box." Cherry answers. Jai laughs louder this time and lets his head drop to the pillow. He thinks about how much things have changed between them and it doesn't scare Jai as much as he thought it would. He lets himself think further and considers what they’ve shared, and what they haven’t.
“Tell me about your parents.” Jai asks softly. Cherry startles slightly and studies Jai’s relaxed demeanor.
“You…. already know.” Cherry says quietly and presses his head to the pillow too.
“I want you to tell me. Please.” Jai lets a hand slowly graze up Cherry’s arm, trying to soothe him. Cherry breathes through his nose and studies the blanket they share.
“My father drove a Rickshaw. Like me.” Cherry smiles. It’s sad. “One night, he dropped off an important man. He watched the man get killed, he tried to help him and called police. My father fled, but eventually, Mattu Bai found us.” Cherry swallows hard and his eyes well, Jai tries to comfort him with his hands and patience.
“He found the three of us at home. He stabbed my mother first, then… my father’s throat.” Tears fall down gently now, Cherry wipes at them roughly and sniffs. Jai listens and keeps his hands on Cherry’s skin.
“I don’t understand why he left me alive.” Cherry’s voice is harsh and painted with emotion. Jai hums.
“Killing a child is different. It can matter to even the w-w-worst men.” Jai says and swallows the sick feeling sudden memories bring. Cherry only presses his face further into the pillow.
“I held my father while he died, then my mother. She survived but-” Cherry doesn’t finish. Jai knows the rest of the story. He leans in to kiss Cherry’s wet eyelashes and then his cheek. Cherry sighs deeply.
“He told me to be brave.” Cherry whispers. It’s so quiet, Jai almost doesn’t hear it.
“You were. It takes co-courage to survive.” Jai says with conviction. “Not just that night. You’re here now, with me. I meant it when I said that I think you are s-strong.” Cherry’s face does something complicated and then his lips are on Jai’s. The kiss trembles and Cherry sniffs again, pressing his nose and temple to Jai’s. Jai breathes, then slowly pulls away. He makes a decision within himself and stands from the bed. Cherry makes an anxious noise but Jai smiles at him in the darkness. He reaches a hand out for Cherry to follow him. Jai realizes they are both naked now and they walk together to the end of Jai’s bed, to the wall with the cabinet.
Jai opens the wooden doors slowly. As they swing out Cherry hears an audible click and a light flashes on inside the cabinet, triggered by a sensor. The light is yellow and warm and illuminates them like gold. A halo of sudden truth. Inside is an altar. It’s small and simple, with garlands and fruit and marigold petals. There are no portraits of the devas , no statues, only three small figurines lined up in a row. A lion, an elephant, and a monkey. Jai clears his throat and speaks quietly.
“We were triplets.” Jai says and Cherry’s eyes widen. He watches as Jai touches the first figure. The Lion.
“Me. The oldest. I had the stammer, so I was always quiet.” Jai moves his hand to the next.
“Lava, born after me. Smart and gentle but st-stubborn.” Jai almost smiles, and lets his thumb graze the elephant's trunk.
“Kusa. The youngest.” Jai’s voice breaks and his hand brushes the monkey’s tail. When he laughs it comes out wet. “So much energy, so fast. Except, when we were bo-born, he was so small.” Jai’s throat goes tight and his eyes sting.
“My mother t-told us there wasn’t enough room inside of her, he c-c-couldn’t grow.” Jai swallows repeatedly, trying to push down the scream at the bottom of his stomach. His hand taps at his throat again.
“She t-t-told us we would hold him at night. He was s-so small he w-would get cold.” Jai breaks. He sobs and hides his face in his hand. Cherry pulls at him, tugging him close. Cherry tries to hold him but Jai resists, almost frantic to finish explaining.
“I only m-m-meant to burn the s-stage. She had just died and our uncle took my b-b-brothers from me. He taught them to be cruel. I had n-nothing and I wanted to destroy everything that was so im-important to him. The thing that they lo-loved more than me. ” Jai’s voice is angry now, full of the fire that burned that night. Cherry looks frightened.
“The two children in the fire. Your brothers?” Cherry whispers it. Jai starts to spiral. Cherry has seen him now, the monster with ten heads. The demon . Cherry steps closer, a hand on his chest.
“You lost so much. It must have been so lonely.” Cherry whispers and Jai’s face crumples. He pushes into Cherry’s hold and stays there until he can breathe again. When he pulls back Cherry’s eyes focus on the cabinet, his face a wonder at it’s marvels.
“Jai, Lava, Kusa. Your mother was clever.” Cherry smiles wide and Jai’s eyes widen at the mention of his name. His real name. He doesn’t need to know how Cherry found it but he did and Jai lets his chest crack open, fitting Cherry in there, molding him into his flesh.
They return to the bed quietly. They don’t have sex or make love. They hold each other and when they sleep, when they dream, they dream of each other.
Chapter 11: Pushkarini
Summary:
Be careful what you wish for.
Chapter Text
When Jai wakes it's still dark, and Cherry's lips are on his shoulder. He hums at the tender kisses and turns to see Cherry dressed in thin shorts and one of Jai's nightshirts. He looks beautiful this early.
"The chai ." Cherry whispers and kisses Jai one last time before moving to leave the bed.
Jai grabs him before he can, pressing a growl into his neck. Cherry makes a sweet noise as he's dragged back under the bedding. After a light struggle and Jai's mock protests, Cherry wiggles out and escapes.
"You said the meeting is early." Cherry laughs. Jai flops back to the mattress like a big cat and grins, his mustache stretching and plush lips going flat. Cherry finds him so handsome in the morning. They have been sleeping together in Jai's bed on and off this week and every morning he gets more attractive. It's torture to have to leave him for chai and chores.
Jai sighs as Cherry disappears and the door clicks shut. He maneuvers himself into the middle of the bed to do his morning speech exercises then pads to his cabinet. He opens it like every morning, ready to pay his respects when he stops. There's something different. Nestled behind the three figurines, himself and his two brothers, sits something new. Cherry's little cheetah figure nested in lotus and jasmine petals. Jai's chest bursts with warmth, and it travels from his ears to his toes. He smiles and lets the feeling settle, but only for a moment. As the gesture becomes real, Jai's stomach starts to sink. Kaakha's warning and concern about Cherry's heart being too kind for Lanka begin to echo in his mind.
Jai skips the devotional and slowly shuts the cabinet, his thoughts racing and falling over each other. He knows the danger, this fear is familiar, but he decides against rumination. Today is too important. Jai pushes the feelings back and moves into the bathroom for a shower.
Cherry moves quickly around the kitchen, the chai nearly ready to serve. He's gotten quite good at the process and fast. He's made his own tweaks to the recipe during the time he's lived in Lanka, only further impressing Jai with his instincts and usefulness. Cherry beams with pride at the thought and moves to pour the tea.
It could be today. Cherry thinks. It could be now.
He's been holding onto the words for so long, that they sing in his heart with every kiss. He's terrified to say them. He's scared he's somehow reading Jai's feelings wrong, but Jai carries the words too. Cherry can see them in his eyes, they turn so soft and so wide and Cherry knows it has to be it. It has to be love. Cherry feels the words bubble up in his throat every time he sees Jai, every soft moment, every gentle touch. He should say it now. I love you. Nēnu ninnu prēmistunnānu .
Cherry's body flushes and his cheeks warm at the thought. He shakes himself and reaches for the plated chai , when there's a sudden burst of air and Kaakha waltzes into the kitchen.
They both freeze, Cherry tries to focus on his tray and Kaakha fiddles with the tiffin dabba in his arms. There's a beat of silence and awkward tension before Kaakha moves to put his lunch away. Cherry sighs and pulls the tray to leave when Kaakha stops him.
"Thank you. For washing this." Kaakha says it without meeting Cherry's eyes and pushes the dabba into the fridge. Cherry smiles awkwardly, even if Kaakha doesn't see it. He steps past the island to leave when Kaakha speaks again.
"Wait." Kaakha moves and takes the tray from Cherry, setting it on the island gently.
Kaakha sighs and looks Cherry over. Cherry is suddenly very aware of his clothing and puts his heels together and crosses his arms, trying to hide his small sleep shorts and the size of Jai's shirt. Kaakha sighs again and finally looks into Cherry's eyes. His expression looks sad and pleading.
"Let me see your arms." Kaakha asks. Cherry is confused at first, his nose and eyebrows pinching.
"Please. Just right here." Kaakha points to his own upper arm, on the underside, near his armpit.
Cherry hesitates, but Kaakha's eyes show sorrow, not demand. Cherry pulls gently at his sleeve and raises his left arm. Kaakha's hands come to it, rotating the muscle back and forth, searching for something. Kaakha's hands are warm and square, the skin is textured and thin from hard work and old age. They remind Cherry of his Tata , or what he can remember of him and he enjoys the memories. Cherry's armpit hair stretches with the motions and he worries whether the deodorant from yesterday is still active. When Kaakha feels satisfied, he sways his head and motions for the other arm. Cherry lifts that one too and Kaakha searches again. When he feels he's looked as closely as he can, Kaakha sighs in relief, his face softening, and a small smile stretching over his features.
"Thank you " Kaakha whispers and Cherry lowers his arms, still very confused.
"I don't know how much Raavan tells you about our-" Kaakha pauses to search for the right word. "-work. There's someone here who's betrayed us and I need to find him.”
Cherry’s stomach drops out. He doesn’t ask about his arms, he doesn’t want to know. The anxiety and sorrow that crashes over him is too heavy to think about anything else. Kaakha sways his head gently, before leaving the kitchen quietly. Cherry walks with his tray through the Haveli in a trance. The sudden fear that Jai may suspect him, the re-analysis of every moment they have spent together since the first night, it all rains down on him. His body moves slowly, past halls and doors. His thoughts tear through him like a thunderstorm. He doesn't feel himself walking until he finds himself suddenly in front of Jai's door.
Inside Jai is busy getting dressed in his closet, in front of his mirror. Cherry sets the tray of tea down gently, on an end table nearby, and walks into the closet quietly. Jai doesn't acknowledge him, he adjusts his cuffs and pulls on his watch. Jai needs to stay focused. The sudden intrusion into his mornings, the figurine in the cabinet, he can't fret over it now but he feels his heart glaze over. He feels the air between them is too tight. Cherry swallows, sensing the sudden shift.
"You need that watch fixed." Cherry says playfully. Jai raises an eyebrow and smiles with the corner of his mouth.
It doesn't look like a real smile and it makes Cherry nervous. Jai hums and turns away. It feels like a rejection. Cherry doesn't leave, he stands awkwardly, watching Jai finish getting ready. When Jai turns he sighs, and smiles that stupid fake ugly grin. Cherry wants to rip it off with his nails but he's too afraid to be angry. Jai opens his mouth to speak and Cherry interrupts him with square hands on his chest.
"Do-" Cherry pauses to swallow, his eyes filled with worry and the need for reassurance. "Do you trust me?" Cherry asks.
Jai's face falls, whatever barrier he's been trying to quickly build up, crumbles and falls in a foundation of sand. Jai does have to think about it. Not out of doubt, but to process the shock of his heart immediately lurching, his mind knowing the answer so certainly it gave him no option to think otherwise.
"Yes." Jai whispers. Jai was sure he was going to lie about it. Dodge the question entirely.
Cherry sees the truth in Jai's expression, now soft and open, and his body goes lax with relief. He pushes in, his arms wrapping around Jai's neck, letting the anxiety billow out of him like smoke. The hug is warm and comfortable, and they both hide themselves in each other's arms. Jai breathes in, letting himself have this.
When they pull back, Cherry smiles and pushes their noses together. Against his better judgment, Jai smiles. This time the smile is real too and Cherry soaks in its warmth. Cherry's hands come to Jai's shoulders and brush at the fabric carefully, pulling a piece of lint and a strand of short hair. The outfit is more complicated today, a long vest over a thin flowing Kurta and wide Churidars . Cherry pulls gently at the soft sash to make it even around Jai's shoulders and Jai stretches his neck. Jai turns to check himself in the mirror one last time. His eyes shift to Cherry's in the reflection and he smiles.
"Get dressed and meet me at the altar."
Cherry bounces around his room, flushed with excitement. He runs his fingers through his hair quickly, the inky locks still damp from his shower. He wonders if it's getting too long and tucks it neatly behind his ears to show off the gold hoops. He admires the neat job he did with his mustache today. He made an impulsive decision that he is now very excited to show Jai. Cherry checks his appearance again and runs his fingers over the new shape. He's in his uniform, but no smock. He wants to look nice for Puja, Jai has never invited him before and he wants it to be special.
You could say it now. His heart reminds him. You could say it in front of God . Cherry sighs at the thought and tries to push down a blush.
Cherry makes his way into the main hall where Jai keeps the public altar but does a few turns and walks into the large Puja room, reserved for Shiva . Cherry is happy to see Jai already here and beams at him as he turns. Jai's expression is soft at first and then his eyebrows raise into his hairline. His mouth parts to say something but only scoffs and smiles. Cherry laughs too but bites his lip, his cheeks coloring. His mustache, now neat and short, is kept long on the ends and then slightly curled up with pomade, mirroring Jai's larger one. Both an homage to Raavan .
Jai's eyes sparkle with genuine surprise at the reveal. He walks to Cherry with his plate and lamp and circles it slowly. Cherry cups his hands over Agni to bring the blessing to his forehead and scrunches his nose in affection. Jai's eyes are wide and glassy, the moment suddenly very important to him. Ending their prayers, Jai takes two fingers of Kumkum and presses Talik gently to Cherry's forehead. Cherry lets his smile widen and his eyes slip closed as Jai's fingers brush his skin. When Jai reaches for his own, Cherry stops his hand and applies the kumkum to Jai himself. Jai's movements are quick but intentional. The plate is set down, and he's taking two steps forward, a warm hand on Cherry's neck, and pulling their mouths together.
The kiss is reverent, soft, and modest. Cherry's hands rest on Jai's shoulders, Jai lets his fingers push through the damp hair at the back of Cherry’s neck. When Jai pulls away he presses his nose to Cherry’s and smiles again.
Right now. Right now. Cherry’s heart whispers. Cherry’s eyes scan Jai’s expression. It’s honest and full of affection. Right now. Cherry takes a shaky breath and opens his mouth to speak when the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts them. Jai turns his head to see Shatru & Tapan waiting patiently in the doorway. Cherry backs away awkwardly as they move in for Talik from Jai. Cherry twists his mouth a little to the side, suddenly shy about his mustache, and pulls at his fingers.
“They are on the main road now Maharaj .” Tapan says. Jai sways his head sharply and they move to leave. Cherry reaches his fingertips out to brush at Jai’s hand, not wanting to let him go. Jai turns at the feeling. He winks and smiles sweetly.
“No chores today. St-Stay in your room. I will find you after.” Jai instructs. Cherry’s brows knit and he takes a step closer.
“I don’t want this m-m-meeting to have any accidental-” Jai turns his head to watch Shatru and Tapan walk away from them “-interruptions.” Jai smiles one last time and presses a sweet kiss to Cherry’s nose. It’s only the softest press but Cherry’s face colors deeply.
Cherry sighs and watches Jai leave the room as well. He picks at his sleeve for a moment before walking out himself. He feels silly for getting fully dressed and changes into a sleep shirt and socks when he reaches his room. The winter is approaching slowly and while it isn’t too cold, the monsoon season seems to keep trying to creep back in. It feels humid and wet this morning so he keeps his window open and the fan on a high setting, letting cooler air wash in.
Cherry decides to clean for himself, sweeping and mopping up his room, folding some clean clothes, and letting a new Shan Rukh Khan film play on his tablet. He watches the small screen reverently as he folds slowly. The day is going slow and easy, the air in his room is a comfort, and any lingering concerns melt away with the bright Bollywood dance numbers.
Cherry wonders absently how the meeting is going, when suddenly an eruption of men’s voices rings through the haveli . Cherry bolts out of his bed and knocks the tablet to the ground, his laundry strewn on the floor. He strains his ears to listen, his breathing heavy and eyes wide. The yelling turns to screams and Cherry doesn’t miss that’ Jai’s voice is among them.
Cherry runs. He runs faster than he ever has in his life. His bare feet pound against the tile and carpet. His long hair whips around his face like wire. His own panting and terrified noises bounce off the high walls of rooms and halls. He won't hear it now but he's crying out as he runs, begging the mother goddess to keep Jai safe. I love him. I love him. I love him .
They stand in the courtyard, where Jai's men gather to train, an open, neutral space. Jai watches the clouds gather overhead, darkening the sky. He hears cars pull in and listens for the crunch of footsteps. It's already starting to drizzle as men emerge through the walkway. Armed guards surround three men as they walk into Lanka , powerful strides and assured smiles. Jai swallows and tries to focus. As they get closer he studies their faces. The man in the middle is the eldest, strong and mature, with a heavy beard and piercing eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses. He's dressed in light clothing, they all are, gold and beige, and the comfort of linen against soft gray curls. It feels like a lie. The man on the right looks similar but younger, perhaps the second oldest. His beard has more color and his smile is tempered. The man on the left keeps his head down, his hair is full and dark and his body is wider. The youngest. Jai's eyes lock on and he waits. He waits and time starts to slow. Let me see you. Show me.
The youngest brother lifts his face, a twisted smile shows itself and there it is. The scar. A long jagged valley of flesh down the right side of his face, twisting his eyelid. Time stops. The raindrops freeze in the air. Jai can hear Tapan's terrified sound and Shatru's wail. Jai is as silent and still as death.
Jai's hand shoots to the back of his neck, he tugs, and the ax flutters out like an arrow. It hid itself well under the heavier layers of today's nicer outfit. The chain attached dangles in the air like spider silk and Jai's wrist rotates to let it wrap around his palm. It slices through raindrops like a razor and embeds itself in the younger brother's shoulder. Time and sound return. It's chaos. Wails and scrambling and gunfire and Kaakha's square hands on Jai's arm. Shiva himself tears open the sky like its fabric and sheets of rain pour down. Srinivasa's men can't aim through the water and bullets fly past Jai like pebbles. The King of Lanka unfolds like thunder, he ducks and dodges, throwing his ax out like a grappling hook. He hears the sound of meat splitting as the ax slices through flesh and cracks bone. Droplets of blood disguise themselves as rain and soak the earth under their feet. Jai has his eyes locked on the youngest brother, now clutching his shoulder and screaming. Rivulets of water rush down the planes of Jai's face, over hard eyes, radiating the horror of vengeance.
The elder brothers pull out guns and Shatru and Tapan are already there, cutting through guards with sickles and pushing the Srinivasa empire into the blood-curdled mud. Jai doesn't hear Kaakha anymore but he doesn't stop. A bullet grazes Jai's arm as the eldest brother shoots with shaking hands, not used to having to fight for himself. Tapan breaks his wrist. Shtrau yanks the hair of the second eldest and his body falls to the ground, the sickle slicing across his neck like hot steel through wax. Pulses of blood pump out and he grabs weakly at the wound, his eyes wide and afraid, suddenly aware that he is dying. The eldest Srinivasa wails in the mud, Tapan's foot on his back. The cries are silenced with a heel to his skull.
Jai finishes the last guard off and rushes forward as the youngest brother stands to run. Shatru and Tapan see it and a look passes between the three, an understanding. The two men chase after and Jai stays behind, he trusts his brothers. Jai looks around for Kaakha and finds his limp body in the mud. He scrabbles to hold him and is relieved to find a pulse. There's a cut at his head but no serious wounds, he puts his head to his mentor and hopes he will forgive him when he wakes.
Jai tries to breathe, the adrenaline starting to wear off when he hears the faintest noise. A very small sound calling to him. He would know it anywhere. Cherry stands in the mud, on the other side of the yard, his thin clothing soaked and his hair flat to his head, dripping. Jai almost smiles at the sight of him, a deep peace washing over him when Cherry's face crumples and he wails.
"JAI!!!" Cherry screams it, the sound is shrill and full of fear.
The chain from Jai's ax wraps around his throat and squeezes tight. Jai knows to flex his neck immediately. The eldest Srinivasa grunts behind him, screaming about his dead brother. Everything is slow again, Kaakha falls from his embrace and his hands reach for the chain. Jai can't breathe, he reaches back to grab at hair, flesh, a shoulder, anything, but Srinivasa is strong. They fight through it, turning, Jai almost getting his weight up but falling back into the mud as his throat is squeezed tighter and tighter. His vision is starting to darken, his lungs burn and the pain is unbearable. He wonders if he is dying too but all he can really think about is Cherry .
Charan . How his hands look pressed against his own. The way he smiles, his teeth slanted and his nose scrunched. The way his face looks so soft and peaceful when he sleeps. The turtles at the beach and how happy he was, how he turned to smile like nobody had ever been kind to him. His skin under the moon and Cherry's fingers at his head, red with blessings. Go back to your room. I love you. I love you. I told you to stay in your room.
Then it's over. The sound of meat and the crunch of bone and the chain falls to the mud. Jai crawls through blood and viscera, the floors of hell under his knees. He coughs and heaves and gags and tries to breathe. Jai's stomach flips up and down, the nausea threatening vomit to join the putrid mixture of blood and dirt. It takes a few moments but eventually, his hearing returns and his vision stabilizes.
A pounding sound gets louder. It's like a pulse. The beat of a drum. A crack that meets flesh, over and over, the sound against screams. Jai looks behind himself. Cherry sits in the wet earth, on top of Srinivasa, his arms raised high in the air, clutching a stone the size of his head and he brings it down on Srinivasa's skull, or at least what's left of it. The rock is crimson and covered in brain matter, Srinivasa's head is a cavern of bone and ground meat. But Cherry keeps raising the stone and bringing it down. Screaming. The sounds are wild and alien.
Jai crawls through the muck, blood on his teeth from biting his tongue. He scrambles up and reaches for Cherry, folding him into his arms, forcing him to drop the stone. Cherry fights the hold, still in shock, still trying to save them. Jai forces them both to sit, to calm. Cherry lets out long sad sounds and Jai waits with him. Letting the rain cool their skin, pressing his lips to Cherry's cheek. Jai’s voice comes out hoarse, his vocal cords pinched.
“I’m here. I’m here Pandu .” It’s only a desperate whisper against Cherry’s ear but he lets out a wail and turns, folding himself against Jai, wrapping his arms tight around his neck. Cherry hides himself in Jai’s shoulder and sobs. Jai’s eyes shift back to Kaakha’s body in the mud, he hesitates but makes a decision, gritting his teeth as he tries to stand.
Jai doesn’t know how he gets them inside but Cherry is in his arms, folded into a small shape against his chest, and walls and rooms and hallways are fluttering past them. Jai has them in his room, in his bathroom and the shower is on. Suddenly they are wet again, feet slipping on clean tile. Jai begs Cherry to try and stand but he whines and wobbles. Jai pulls at their shoes and their clothing, his hands searching wildly for wounds on Cherry’s shivering body. Jai ignores the scrape on his own arm, he doesn’t even feel it. The water is hot and stings their cold skin, rivulets of pink water travel down planes of muscle and Jai keeps wiping the wet debris from Cherry’s eyes.
“I killed him. I killed him. I killed him.” Cherry’s voice warbles loudly and he swallows in deep breaths. Cherry’s hands tremble, bunched loosely against Jai’s now bare chest. Jai folds his hands over Cherry’s head over and over, trying to clear the blood and dirt from his hair, his palms brushing against Cherry’s stuck-out ears, trying to wash away the evidence.
“No. I did. That was m-me. Not you.” Jai responds. Cherry’s face crumples and he heaves against the cries in his chest.
“I did! It was me!” Cherry is close to screaming. His hands shake harder. Jai grabs Cherry’s face between both his palms and stills him.
“It was me! I did it! I’m the ki-killer. It was my job!” Jai’s eyes are hard and pierce through Cherry’s panic. Cherry's eyes are wide and dilated, confusion coloring them, they scan Jai's face wildly, searching for the truth. He wants to believe it. He wants it so badly, but the reality is washing over them both. Cherry’s body goes limp and he sobs again, burying himself back into the larger man, squeezing him close.
“It was me.” Cherry cries in a thin voice, small and final. No arguments. Jai holds him, hands on his back and chin pressing to his cheek as he cries. He holds him tight, the muscles firm and real and warm. Jai holds them both under the hot spray, until the water runs clear.
Cherry is nearly asleep when Jai carries him to the bed. He lets the air dry their skin, still humid and warm. Cherry’s eyes are matte and hollow, they watch the ceiling and the wall, the afternoon overcast washes only gray light into the room. It feels like an endless night. Jai tucks him in only a sheet, letting the soft bedding underneath lull him into safety. Cherry’s fingers wrap gently around Jai’s hand as tears fall quietly down his cheeks.
“Don’t die. Don't leave me.” Cherry’s words are so small and so weak. Jai cries too, hot tears tumbling out, but he pushes at the feeling lodged in his throat. He says nothing, but kisses Cherry's temple and his cheek and his lips. Jai sits and waits, their hands together, until Cherry finally sleeps.
Jai changes quickly into new clothing without bandages and lets blood seep through his sleeve. He leaves Cherry and finds Kaakha’s bundled body in the hall, two of his men watching him, keeping him dry. They tell Jai the doctors have been called and he's still breathing. Four of his men are dead. Jai touches Kaakha’s head and feels nothing, only a numbness at the bottom of his heart.
Jai feels his legs taking him into the yard. The ground is still flush with blood and corpses litter the area but three men are alive and up. Shatru and Tapan stand as still as statues, crescent swords clutched in their hands. The rain still pours down on them as they watch their captive, sprawled and bound to a post in the mud. As Jai walks towards them, he pulls his ax from the earth. Shatru turns his head at the sound and reveals a broken expression, tears mixing with raindrops.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Shatru's voice is small. Tapan doesn't look at him.
"I was afraid I was wrong." Jai answers and turns to face the man on the ground.
"Last year Sekhar brought in a shipment. Inside was a crate. A mi-mistake, different from the others. The rest carried weapons. This one had something he-heavier." Jai's voice starts to sway, still damaged from the fight. His eyes well at the memory.
"She had di-died in that box. No tongue to c-call for help. No-" Jai stops. It's a description he can't finish. Her small body mangled and changed. Tapan and Shatru's faces twist, the sorrow transforming to rage.
"Ten, maybe twelve years old." Jai says, disgusted. Tapan hooks his sickle into the meat of Srinivasa's thigh and the monster wails again.
Jai squats to look at him. He smiles and it looks wrong. The youngest Srinivasa brother is dazed, the pain in his thigh and an open wound at the side of his head bleeds sluggishly.
"She had a mark. Here." Jai points to the inside of his arm. "I re-recognized it."
Jai drops his ax and tears at Srinivasa's kurta. It splits and Jai tugs out his arm. Underneath, near the armpit is a tattoo. A brand. Three long spikes fanned out like sun rays.
" Yellamma ." Jai says her name like a curse. Tapan pushes forward to see.
" Devadasi .." Tapan whispers. The reference is grotesque and Jai's rage turns to fire in his heart.
"Who-who are you?" Srinivasa whispers, his eyes filled with fear.
"Don't y-you remember me?" Jai laughs and pulls a finger under his mustache, letting his smile turn to a grimace. He takes his ax again and lifts it in his hand, letting the sharp blade trace down the ragged scar on Sirvanessa's face without touching it. His captive squirms and shakes.
"I gave you this." Jai growls and swipes to reopen the scar, letting it bleed. Srinivasa wails and shakes, rattling his binds. Jai stands slowly in annoyance and turns to his brothers, saying the words he's wanted to for almost 20 years.
"Take him to the basement."
They drag him together, by the hair. The three of them walk through the haveli like demons tugging a soul to hell. Srinivasa's cries fill all of Lanka , loud and terrible. He begs and pleads, tries to apologize, tries to give excuses, tries to appeal for mercy. They give him nothing. At some point he gets out of their grip, stumbles, and falls. Tapan takes off his left leg for it. He grabs Jai's ax and the sound of bone cracking deafens their ears. They leave it like meat trimmings in a hallway and he bleeds the rest of the way. He leaves a slithering trail of blood behind him like the mucus of a snail. His cries slow after that, perhaps accepting his fate. Until they reach the stairwell.
"No! No! Nooo!" Srinivasa's screams crack like snapped razors.
Their captive cries out again in horror, scrabbling at the ground, breaking his nails on splintered wood. Jai kicks at his stomach and crushes his hand under the heel of his boot. His pleas are broken now, old and wet, hissing out of him like his last breath. Jai smells urine as the man wets himself and they drag him through his own mess. He clutches weakly at each creaking step as he's dragged, paws at the walls, and lets one fist clutch the door frame before disappearing into shadow. Jai goes with them and turns to slam the rotted wooden door shut.
♫ It's late into the night when Cherry finally wakes. His body aches and his bones feel hollow. The muscles feel sore when he moves his arm and suddenly he remembers the stone, the crunch of flesh, and the wet mud. It doesn't frighten him, he doesn't bolt up in panic or scream at the realization. He did his crying and now that is over. It was that man or Jai and Cherry knew immediately that man was going to die. That man did die and Cherry killed him. Cherry killed someone. He wonders why it doesn't surprise him. Perhaps he knew this road always led to this point, that Lanka would always lead him here.
The room is dark but the curtains are pulled open and the moon is bright tonight. Cherry's eyes focus and he watches Jai at the window, his back to Cherry. Cherry realizes how clean he is and remembers the shower, understands why he's naked, why they both are. Cherry moves from the bed and walks to stand with the man he loves. It feels wrong for a moment to think that, to be filled with so much love right now. It bursts through his chest and sings in his blood. The man he will love the rest of his life. The man he knows he's loved in the last life, one hundred last lives, one hundred more to come. As Cherry gets close, something new catches his eye. The tangle of vines at the window isn't vines anymore.
"Flowers." Cherry whispers. It comes out like awe. Jai turns to his voice. Cherry's fingers graze white petals that hang from flowers upside down. They droop like Ghantas do in temples and Cherry is saddened to think their morning blessings were washed away in the shower.
" Gulebakavali . They bloom under moonlight. You have to make a w-wish before they wilt under the sun." Jai's voice is hoarse like sandpaper.
Cherry's hand moves from the soft petals to Jai's throat. Fingertips touch the twisted welts and bruises on cold skin. Cherry's eyes look glassy but Jai turns from them, his gaze fixed on the beach outside his window. Cherry turns to see three pillars in the sand. Three gray corpses impaled on stakes sway in the monsoon. Lightning cracks and their mangled bodies flash white against a roaring sea. It should frighten Cherry, it should disgust him, but it only serves as a reminder that Jai is alive. Cherry pushes three fingers to the glass, one for each brother and he squints.
"Wander with me in the groves and forget the forest." Cherry whispers. Jai's eyes are wide and full of terror.
"I will die like them. You will p-p-probably watch it happen." Jai's throat still hurts, his voice is still a rasp. Cherry sighs and presses his cheek to Jai's shoulder. It flattens his face and twists his mouth.
"You will die. I will die. Then we won't have to worry about dying anymore." Cherry looks up through the tops of his eyes and tries to smile.
Jai grabs him. It's rough and fast and angry. Cherry is in the air, his hands on Jai's shoulders, his legs wrapping around Jai's waist. Jai presses him to the window sill and slots their mouths together. The kiss is hard and full of tongue and teeth and need. Cherry pants and grabs with blunt nails as their tongues tangle. He feels his shoulder bang against cold glass as Jai thrusts. They both swell quickly, the excitement thick in the humid air. Jai makes a growl and grunts like a wounded animal. Cherry arches his back as Jai bites at his lip and tugs.
Cherry can feel the faint hair on Jai's shoulders and tightens his legs around Jai's middle. Jai is thick and his belly curves and Cherry marvels at the size of him. Jai's shoulders are round and large and Cherry fills his hands with them, squeezing muscle and skin and panting at his ear like a wildcat in heat.
Jai moans and kisses him again. He can feel the metal in his tongue and groans. Cherry's mouth is like water in a drought, his palms a salve on burning skin. Jai can't keep his hands still, he maps the planes of a body he already knows so well. He marvels again at dark skin and small valleys of hair. Cherry's body is different now. He was so thin when he came to Lanka and now his arms are strong and his waist is wider. His thighs feel thick around Jai's middle and he groans at the feel of their weight. Jai takes comfort in knowing Cherry can protect himself, can protect them , will kill anyone who tries to tear them apart. It isn't right, it isn't safe. They've gone mad together. They're too lost and too far gone.
Cherry watches as the flowers above them graze Jai's head and shoulders like a canopy, like a blessing of garlands at their wedding. The light against them both is pearlescent and sick. Cherry kisses Jai again. He pulls at a flower and then another, crushing them in his hand and pressing the torn petals to Jai's skin. He doesn't believe in wishes.
Cherry wants to turn and watch the bodies rot on the beach, knowing that he and Jai are still alive, that decay can’t touch them yet. Jai growls like he can hear the wild thoughts and moves them. He picks Cherry up and watches him sway like a wilted flower in the wind. Slow and hazy. Cherry's hair is errant pollen and spores, branching out like mycelium under Jai’s skin. He remembers his dream, Cherry moving like a serpent. You'll burn here too . They'll burn together. They fall into the bed and intertwine like snakes. They kiss and lock around each other. Your body is mine now. There is no space left between us.
Cherry rolls himself on top and Jai’s hands fan out across strong muscles. Cherry’s gold bangles clink on his wrists and the metal is cold against heated skin. Their legs find each other too and Jai can feel coarse hair and rough skin on Cherry’s heels and elbows. Cherry’s body is an envelopment of the warmth Jai hides behind his ribs. He molds their mouths together again to incubate it. He wants aggression and strength and virility but suddenly it’s soft, suddenly Jai wants to be closer.
Jai can see his brother's bodies molding like clay into each other, like melting wax. The familiar flare of jealousy returns. Can they have that? Can Jai stay here forever, one body, one twisted creature forced to roam the earth, a cursed beast? His heart wants it so desperately he presses himself to Cherry’s chest and squeezes. Cherry moans and runs blunt nails down Jai’s back.
They turn again, their swollen cocks heavy against each other's bellies. Jai pushes up and off the bed. Cherry reaches a thumb out, looping under Jai’s red molathadu and tugging. Jai smiles and slips away. Cherry protests, but after a drawer opens and shuts, Jai is back. Wet sounds and rustling fabric and Jai puts his fingers to Cherry’s body. They slip inside like they belong there, like Cherry can feel the sensation on Jai’s fingertips, their nerve endings fusing. Cherry’s body flushes with warmth at the burn and stretch, his own fingers grab at Jai’s wrists and he begs. Jai’s fingers move like tongues and the spot inside Cherry pulses and grows fat. Cherry’s body vibratrs and flushes, the core swell between his thighs heavy and loud. His voice finds him and he cries out. The filthy wet sounds of Jai’s hand make his arousal heavier. Cherry bites his lip and grabs at his cock. He’s gentle and flirtatious, long slow pulls on his foreskin, a show for Jai. Cherry’s legs pull up to his chest, an invitation, a desperate plea. There’s no excuse left, Jai licks his own lips pink and grunts to remove his hand.
There is a still moment when Cherry’s breathing is the only noise in the room. Cherry has never had sex like this, he wants it, of course he wants it, but it will still change him. He lets his body go lax, he lets Jai work to fold themselves into each other. He realizes suddenly he’s scared but gives no resistance. Will Jai be kind to him? Will he hurt him? Will it change things? Will it end things? What will this start?
Jai pulls at something on the bed, a small dark band. He places his fingers inside the loop and stretches it, pulling it down over his cock and under his balls. It sits snugly there and makes his cock fatter. Jai strokes himself gently and shudders at the relief, he's thick and full and desperate to fit inside.
Cherry makes a noise when he sees the condom. Jai puts it to his teeth to tear the foil packet and Cherry surges forward to grab at it. They fight for it, Cherry slapping and screeching, pulling at it to throw it across the room. Cherry kisses Jai frantically to apologize, his mouth moving sloppy and open, he pulls on Jai's cock to line him up, letting the head catch on his rim and whimpering. Jai shoves at him and Cherry falls back trembling, his breath ragged, his eyes wide.
Jai admires Cherry's body, eager with arousal, his short cock fat and bright at the end. Cherry's black hair fans over his eyes like a veil. Cherry snaps his teeth and smiles. Jai wants to spank him but smiles too. All of a sudden it happens and there's nothing left between them. Jai presses a hand under his belly and pushes in. The way is slick and tight and Cherry wails at the pressure of it. Jai isn't gentle, he feels Cherry clench around him but doesn't wait.
Jai pushes Cherry's knees to his chest and starts to thrust. The sound is wet and heavy. Cherry's noises are loud and demanding. His hand moves fast and tight over himself, the other pulling and squeezing his swollen balls. The feeling is too big, Jai is inside him, and Jai feels so good. I love Jai. I love him. I love him. Cherry's body bends back and he arches and the flood of pleasure makes his toes curl. The sounds in his throat are guttural now, Cherry's voice can go so low sometimes it makes Jai throb.
Cherry's hand is fast on his cock and he's cumming, heavy long white lines jumping out to land on his belly. It’s powerful like it always is, wet waves of warmth pulsing through him, the point under his belly vibrating and throbbing. Still, this time it feels deeper, he feels it in his chest, behind his ribs. Cherry reaches out for Jai, he cries and begs, and Jai stutters in disbelief.
Jai has never made a man cum that fast, especially like this, it flushes his nervous system with adrenaline and he thrusts faster, fucking Cherry through it. Cherry holds him tight, pulling Jai down to press their bodies closer. Cherry shudders at every thrust, his orgasm still in the air, his mouth lapping at Jai's neck. Jai's back is stiff like iron and his cock is hard like stone, he thrusts and grunts and suddenly he's pulling out, yanking the band off, and sliding back in.
The orgasm is an avalanche. A tumble of pleasure and emotion. Jai feels his heart crack and he wants to cry. He hides it, he swallows it, the words won't dislodge themself, he can only grunt and moan. Jai cums in heavy pulses, locking himself inside Cherry's body. He can feel his own warmth flood in. Jai cries out too, it’s raspy and wet. He reaches out to grip the bed with his fist and finds Cherry’s hand. Cherry groans and hiccups and squeezes at whatever muscle he can reach. They stay stuck together, the limbed creature with two faces, breathing and trembling. Cherry whispers it again, against Jai’s ear, only a wisp of sound through his vocal chords.
“Nēnu ninnu prēmistunnānu.” Cherry doesn’t ask for a response, he closes his eyes and rests on Jai’s round shoulder. His hand grips the back of Jai’s neck and squeezes. But Jai does respond. It’s all he can give as he trembles.
“Into the groves.” It’s hoarse but Cherry hears it. He smiles and presses closer.
They lie in their afterglow like sleeping cats. Cherry explores Jai's body with his own. His arms and legs sprawled out like tentacles. Cherry's toes brush Jai's leg then his heel pushes against his thigh. Jai’s hand brushes Cherry’s skin like the crushed flower petals. They kiss and kiss and kiss. Tongues lapping at each other like the act needs a seal. Over and over they breathe into each other's mouths and kiss.
They sleep a few hours and have sex again. Cherry sinking down on Jai with a quiet sigh. Jai’s hands holding the thin layer of fat at Cherry’s hips. Again in the morning, Cherry on his belly, and Jai covering his back like a blanket. It’s soft and quiet and they don’t care if they finish. Jai keeps his mouth on Cherry’s neck, his hands on his flanks and then it isn't close enough. They turn, belly to belly, and Cherry's hands fold into his, their mouths finding each other. If they both cry through it, wet tears on ruddy cheeks, Cherry promises not to mention it.
Jai lets the torn petals stay on the floor and frowns at the wilted blooms, scorched by sunlight. Cherry sleeps so softly in his bed, like nothing could ever be wrong now. Doubt seeps into Jai’s heart. He kisses Cherry’s hair and leaves their room. Jai speaks with the doctors. Kaakha is concussed, he needs a few days to rest but should come out of it fine. He will need a nurse to monitor him. Jai navigates the anxiety of loss against the suspicion of betrayal and settles on nothingness.
Jai walks with a new heaviness in his limbs. This other feeling adds weight. He still refuses to name it but is surprised to be comforted that he now carries Cherry with him everywhere. When he makes it to the basement he finds his brothers with blood up to their elbows. A man writhes on the floor, one of Srinivasa’s guards who slithered away before the fight. Jai turns to him and Shatru pulls at the man’s hair, forcing his head up.
“Tell him what you told us.” Shatru hisses. The man whimpers and pleads. “Tell him which of our men worked for you!” The man cries again, a line of blood connecting his lip to the floor.
“Sekhar!”
Yellamma was the goddess Devadasi's were expected to marry to devote themselves to the temple. British colonial rule eventually led the Devadasi system into temple prostitution. The film Shyam Singha Roy explores this system.
Ghantas: Ritual bells used in Hindu religious practices.
Gulebakavali: A real flower. Referred to in English as Queen of the Night. Considered medicinal in India and referenced in the NTR movie Gulebakavali Katha as a cure for blindness.
Chapter 12: Sekhar
Summary:
At times I almost dream I too have spent a life the sages' way.
Chapter Text
Sekhar is 6 years old when he realizes what he is. The other children on his block tell him. They point to his mother and laugh and say they can't touch him. He's smaller than them and when he chases after them to play, they throw pebbles and laugh. His mother is a prostitute and he has no father. So he has no friends.
It's not as terrible to grow up in a brothel as people might think it is. There are mothers everywhere and all of them love you. Especially if you are small and sweet like Sekhar. A little man to grow up someday to protect them. Get a nice job and a nice home and take care of them like a good man would. They laugh when he promises to protect them, when he puffs out his chest and flexes his small arms. They bring him little thongs for his small feet and his Amma's sew him small lungis from old sarees. They come out pink and gold and beautiful and he fights off boys who try to laugh at him in the street.
He knows to go somewhere else when the door is locked and if he is quiet and calls the men Maharaj , they will laugh and give him a sweet. He holds his small hands out happily and bounces, the rasp of a laugh trailing down a hallway as he clutches his prize.
Sometimes his mother is sad and won't look at him. Sometimes she slaps his dark skin and pulls his tight curls. He wishes he was milky like her, that he had soft hair like her. He wants her to know how beautiful she is. He wants her to know he loves her. Sometimes she hates him. Sometimes she cries and won't tell him why. He has nobody to go to when she is sad. And then she dies, and he doesn't have a sad mother anymore.
He's nine when he leaves the brothel. His other mothers no longer have space for him. They have their own children or their own sadness. Their own dead mothers. He lives in tiny spaces on the turns of tiny streets. He steals and lies and begs for food. The rain hurts his feet, he's so cold and he wonders if he can be with his mother instead.
Then he sees a boy. He's skinny and wild and angry and runs fast like how wind blows. He steals better, he lies better, and he doesn't beg. He takes . Sekhar watches him brandish a knife when he wants something from a man and looks small and sweet when it's a woman. They circle each other sometimes, curious. The boy must be from somewhere else because he doesn't run with the other children who throw pebbles at Sekhar.
It rains hard one night, the streets fill with rushing water. Sekhar tries to make himself fit into a tiny space. He squats, his small body folded in half, shivering and clutching his knees. There was no food today and he misses his Amma . His tears disguise themselves in the rain. Then he sees the boy near him, he is squatted too, small and wet. He uses his legs like a crab to waddle closer and Sekhar smiles at the funny walk. They say nothing when the boy is finally close. He takes Sekhar's small hand and they run through the city together.
The boy takes him through tiny streets and turns and under makeshift homes. They end up in a small brick building, half collapsed and abandoned. They both have to squat to push through the rubble, but eventually, they pull back a flap and it's a tiny space with light and warmth. There's a small battery lamp and a pile of fabric molded into a bed. In the corner is a small wooden box. The boy reaches in greedily and pulls out roti wrapped in paper for them. Sekhar nearly squeals and takes his portion gently.
They eat together in the little bed and when the boy is finished he grabs at an old towel and pats at his wet hair. It's dirty, but it dries him off. He pats at Sekhar too and it makes them both laugh. The giggles are high and young and Sekhar makes a screech. They curl into the bedding like kittens. Sekhar's skin is itchy but he's warm and not as hungry anymore. As the lamp starts to dim and their eyelids droop, Sekhar feels a small hand on his and a whisper.
"My name is Jai."
Jai takes his hand one day and Sekhar meets Kaakha. Kaakha looks kind and safe and he brings them food and teaches them how to steal from pockets. He finds them clean clothes and washes them with a hose in a big bucket outside. They both squeal and Kaakha laughs as he sprays them down like puppies. Indira brings them towels and lemon rice and washes their hair while they eat.
They bring Kaakha wallets and watches and rings and he smiles and gives them beds and dinner and takes them to see Powerstar films with samosas and lime soda. For a short while it's just them and it's happy. For a short while. Eventually, Jai makes friends. Sekhar thinks it's unnecessary, Jai has him and Kaakha and Indira, so why do they need more? A few boys join them and then suddenly there are ten boys and Sekhar is the smallest again.
Jai finds Shatru and Kasi, twins who moved to the city from a small village, whose mother needed work to care for their sick father. Most of the children don't have parents but Tapan has both. He doesn't like to talk about them but loves to talk about his little sister. Some boys come and then go but most of them stick together, running the streets like a waddle of ducklings in the tall grass. They steal and eat and laugh and protect each other like brothers do.
Then suddenly, they find a sister.
Mounisha is small and skinny and they find her wandering around a temple begging. She tells them she had a mother when she was a baby, but was often passed around to other beggars for a fee. She says English women want to give more if they see a beggar carrying a baby. One day her mother never came for her and she's been alone ever since. Adults still use her for sympathy but they never want to keep her. Her hair is wild and long and Indira takes her inside for her bath. She doesn't get hosed with the boys.
Indira gives her two long plaits and a new dress. She works well with the boys, she cries and begs women to help and the boys sneak up behind and grab everything they can. She likes gulab jamun and the pretty sarees that hang in the market. When Sekhar is sad, she brings him flowers and kisses his cheek. Jai holds her hand sometimes but Sekhar knows it's a brother's love he gives her. She has nightmares about her mother and will crawl into bed with the boys for safety. They sleep like bear cubs on the floor, piled together in a cave to fight the winter chill. Indira jokes that buying them beds was a waste of money, they just need a blanket and each other.
They steal bikes and explore Odisha . They disappear for a week like bandits on the run, wild animals with nothing to hold them anywhere, no homes, only the sea, and firelight in the black night. Jai shows them an abandoned haveli near the coast. Its paint crumbles and its empty rooms fill with sand and dead leaves. They live in it like little kings and princes and call Mounisha their queen. They give her a crown of flowers and squeal like monkeys when she flips her plaits like royalty. During the day they run through the city and at night, they rule their coastal kingdom. The haveli has a basement, but Tapan scares them with stories about demons so they stay away.
Festivals keep them busy near the beach. Tapan steals bangles for Mounisha and calls her Akka . Sekhar puts flowers in her plaits and fixes her thongs when they tear. Kasi and Shatru dance and tell jokes to make her laugh and Jai takes her to their beach to see the baby turtles. They screech and laugh and run through the sand like crabs to chase the newborns. Jai will tell Sekhar when they are older, drunk and terrible, that he thinks the moon gave them Mounisha, but when they took her to the beach that night, the moon could see how beautiful she was now and wanted her back.
They are twelve and Kaakha has adult men working for him now. They laugh at his gaggle of skinny boys who run with him but they learn firsthand how resourceful they are. Most of them see the strength and wildness in Jai, the loyalty in Tapan, the violence in Shatru and Sekhar, and the cleverness in Kasi & Mounisha. They pat their heads playfully and pass them treats. Kaakha grins, knowing Shatru cut a man's ear off just last week. One man joins Kaakha's budding operation and Jai is wary of him immediately. His eyes look hollow when he smiles and his touch lingers too long.
Kaakha scolds the boys for playing at the haveli too often, he tells them to be safe and cautious, that abandoned places attract people who don't want to be seen. Sekhar wishes they had listened. He felt warned so many times. Not just by Kaakha but by an eerie chill on his neck, like he was always being watched. Was it Yamma? Or something more terrible?
It's cold and late the day it happens. The sun is gone and the sea roars like it's waiting for storm clouds. They can't find Mounisha. She had been missing since that morning and Jai is getting worried. They search the small town Kaakha lives in, the market they run through for work, and the coconut groves where she told them about her mother and cried. They find her bike at the haveli, out of breath but relieved. They don’t see the small motorbike stuffed in a bush nearby. Sekhar feels silly for worrying and not checking here first. They go in together, only the noise of the rustling leaves in the air.
They hear small sounds, the knocking of wood, and the patter of feet. Sekhar shifts to call out when a body shows itself, moving in shadow, climbing up the stairwell from the basement. It's confusing at first, the figure is looking for something, grabbing at the ground and pulling on a trash bag. Their eyes have to adjust in the dark but when one boy raises an oil lamp to see, they freeze at what the light reveals.
It is the new man that works for Kaakha. The man that Jai doesn't like. He's wide and tall and naked. His body shakes and shines with sweat. The front of him is slick with blood and his eyes are white and empty. Someone gasps and the man moves like a wild animal, lurching at them with no weapon and only the trash bag in his grip. Something shines in the dim light and Jai's hand lashes out. The man yells out in pain and clutches his face. Jai trembles, his hand clutching a small blade, now dripping with blood. The man groans and they watch him cup a long wound down the side of his face, over his eye. Sekhar will always remember the way his eye split in half, the pupil bleeding like black oil.
It all happens so fast and the man is gone, running through the open door and into the darkness of the night. Jai pants and holds his bloody knife in the air. The boys stand close to him, terrified. They move together to the top of the stairwell and look down at the open basement. Its entrance is a black hole and they hear nothing moving inside. They whimper and look at each other, unsure of what to do, scared of what they will find if they look.
They watch Jai's small shoulders sink and hold their breaths as he takes a step down. One step and then another, moving slowly down the stairs. They watch him with wet eyes as his feet match the bloody footprints that lead up, and his hand squeezes the railing like a vice. When Jai passes into darkness, they hear only the light clink of his blade being dropped to the floor. It's an endless wait, a lifetime before Jai returns to the light. When he does, his face is broken in sorrow, tears falling down ruddy cheeks, his breath heaving and Mounisha's small body in his arms. She's naked, her legs washed with blood and her skin gray.
Sekhar cries out and sobs, his tiny face devastated. He fumbles down the stairs, warbling her name and trying to clutch her skinny arm as it hangs down. The arm is cold and stiff and her face is hidden in Jai's chest. Sekhar wants to fix her plaits, one came undone and her flowers are missing. Sekhar calls Jai too, scared and confused, wanting him to fix this, wanting this to not be true, wanting her back. Jai keeps climbing, each step painful, each moment he ascends worse than the last. The boys reach for her like an offering, their small hands stretching out to bless her. When Jai reaches the top, they look at how he's changed.
Jai is no longer their brother. He is no longer the child that walked down those steps. He is the man they will follow, their leader, their King Raavan . Ten heads spring behind him and the boys watch him move in reverence.
They clutch their sister and cry and Jai leads them outside. They burn her small body on the beach using driftwood for the fire. Sekhar gets as close as he can to the pyre, sobbing and wailing her name, his tiny fists clutching the sand. Jai is silent as death, tears falling down his cheeks like heavy weights.
He watches the fire flicker through him, wave and dance against the backdrop of an angry sea. He watches the smoke with her soul in it twist and rise in billows he can't touch. He sees his mother. He sees Lava and Kusa. Indira. He decides to never love anyone like this again.
They vow never to tell Kaakha. He had already lost Indira and they can't hurt him again like that. They will lie and say her aunt came for her, a kind distant relative to take her away and love her and keep her safe. They vow on their blood and Sekhar clutches their hands so tightly. They vow to find him. They vow to bring him back to the basement, to this beach where she died.
They are adults and Jai is building an empire, a kingdom. They renovate the haveli but Jai doesn't let anyone touch the basement. Kaakha is proud of them, proud of the boys he has raised into men. They are the last four left out of ten. Others have fallen away over time, some locked up, some dead. When Shatru's father dies, Kasi leaves with his mother back to their village and Shatru stays with his uncle in town. Shatru says his vow is his life and Tapan says the same after losing his own parents.
Something in Sekhar died with Mounisha. A part of him followed her soul into the ether. He's quiet and ruthless, he wants to control the lowest of their ranks and does so with a viciousness that scares Jai sometimes. He is still their brother and he still loves them. Until Rohini.
Loving Rohini is easy and fast. Even before she knew who she was. Everything about her is beautiful, Sekhar saw it immediately. His love for her only grew as he watched her blossom, unfolding like the flower she was, rooting herself in his heart.
He promises to love her and take care of her when Jai casts her out. She smiles at him fondly and touches his cheek. Sekhar ignores the sad expression and makes a home for her. He buys her sarees and a vanity. He finds jewelry and soft bedding. He wants her to be happy.
Their first night is heaven and she imprints her palms in his skin. She smells like a part of him, like she comes from him, and he never thought he could find happiness like this again.
He holds her and cries after he cuts her down. He sobs into her cold body. Another gray corpse he once loved. He finds the note she left for Jai. He burns it.
Jai's face is twisted in sorrow as he walks through the haveli. His guards follow him like watchdogs as they near the pained sounds of grief. The sun is set and the night is violent. They pass into the main hall with urgency and find Tapan and Shatru trying desperately to calm a wild and broken Sekhar.
"It's HIS fault! HIS!" Sekhar screams and pushes through the room in terror, breaking furniture and glass.
When Jai walks in, Sekhar lunges at him. Shatru and Tapan barely catch him, holding him back as he thrashes.
"I loved her! You killed her!" Sekhar screeches, his teeth gnashing and tears streaming down his face.
"She hu-hung herself. In your home." Jai retorts, his tone cold and clipped. Sekhar wails again, his muscles flexing and pulling, trying to get out of his brother's hold.
"You touched her! You! It ruined her!" Sekhar sobs, his voice going hoarse and thin. He gulps in a breath and cries out.
"Everything you touch! Rohini. Indrina. Your mother! They die!" Sekhar spits it, out of breath and empty. Jai's face twists and he pushes forward, his fists clenched, but he stops himself before he does anything too harsh. Sekhar gets an arm free and whips his hand out to point at Jai.
"Not just them." Sekhar breathes. "King Raavan was a rapist . You help that man Maharaj? You touch Mounisha too?"
Jai lunges with a scream, his hands circling Sekhar's neck. He can feel Tapan and Shatru grabbing at him, and yelling at him to stop. He won't let go. His arms lock like iron and he squeezes tighter. Sekhar gurgles and laughs, his hands gripping Jai's wrists.
"Everyone who loves you dies." Sekhar says it in a whisper, a curse blanketing Jai's heart.
Kaakha bursts in and Jai can hear him yelling. His strength is enough to pull them apart and they drag a limp Sekhar out of Lanka . He wails and cries into the night. Kaakha has to spend the rest of it convincing Raavan to not kill his brother.
Sekhar lives in an empty home. He stuffs his money in a box under his bed and does nothing with it. His life is only half-lived now. He likes the hole he's dug for himself. He likes the dirt, it reminds him of sand in his fists. His vow is still his life. He will find the man who took Mounisha from them if it kills him. He hopes it kills him.
He hears whispers for years of a budding operation, from low-level men who've seen only fractions of inner workings. He gets a sudden tip and makes a bold move. He intercepts a shipment and brings it to Raavan. He was right. But the dead girl in the box gives them so little. Something stops him from telling Raavan. Maybe it's selfish, maybe it was Rohini. He digs further, alone, and finally finds a way in.
"Sirinvasa?" Kaakha whispers. "Are you sure?" Sekhar shrugs and doesn't meet Kaakha's eyes.
"He wants to meet. I think it's the man Raavan is looking for, no?" Sekhar paces nervously. He wanted to tell Raavan himself but their Maharaj is on a job, and Sekhar knows this is too delicate to not reveal immediately. Still, he wants to keep Kaakha from knowing what Raavan is looking for. What happened to Mounisha.
Kaakha hums but tells Sekhar to do it and report back.
"Betray us?!" Kaakha yells. Sekhar flushes with anxiety as he paces.
"Be their little rat." Sekhar spits. "They know he's looking for them. Want me to put one of their men in." Sekhar chews on his thumb and Kaakha pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Where is Maharaj, eh?" Sekhar asks and continues to pace. Kaakha sighs and lets his eyes slip close.
"He can't know this. Not yet." Kaakha whispers. Sekhar stops and barks out a laugh.
"Why?! He'll fucking kill me!" Sekhar yells. Kaakha scoffs.
"You are still brothers. Raavan is too close to this. He's acting so strange. He's already found their names too. We can do this for him, get just a little more information, and then we give him a full report. Trust me Abbayi . This is best." Kaakha smiles assuringly but Sekhar doesn't believe it.
Still, there is a part of Sekhar that doesn't trust Raavan anymore and he lets that part of him decide.
Sekhar meets the eldest Srinivasa in a lavish building. Sekhar hopes the dirt on his thongs stain the marble floor. The man carries himself with an authority that makes Sekhar's stomach churn. He's old and dignified and a monster hiding behind the mask of polite wealth.
"We can't thank you enough for meeting with us." Srinivasa drawls and tries to offer Sekhar a seat. Sekhar only clicks his tongue and shifts his weight.
"We understand your Maharaj and you have a difficult history. It's only understandable that you would want to shift your loyalty to more reliable leadership." Srinivasa speaks like how a snake hisses and Sekhar hides the way his blood boils.
"How much you pay?" Sekhar deadpans. Srinivasa laughs. His men bring a duffle bag of cash and drop it at Sekhar's feet.
"Meet us once a week and tell us everything." Srinivasa instructs with a flat tone and motions for a man to come near. "And don't forget my man. I want someone there I can trust."
A younger man walks forward, clearly uncomfortable, unable to meet Sekhar's eyes. Sekhar tilts his head as Srinivasa introduces him.
"My son. Jeevi."
"You said only one! Why are there two?" Kaakha hisses. They watch as Cherry and Jeevi unload and load tonight's goods, Raavan a far enough distance to be out of earshot.
"His little friend. Says he knows nothing." Sekhar drawls and grinds his teeth. "We tell Raavan. Now. This is too fucking far." Sekhar warns, knowing Jai's temper.
Kaakha knows he's right. It is too far. Still, he wants something to give Jai first. Something big to justify the secrets. He pulls on his mustache and shudders, trying to make a decision.
"Get the little one away from Srinivasa's son. Separate them somehow. Tonight. I want to watch him. We can't trust this isn't a trap." Kaakha says.
Sekhar groans and squeezes his fists tight enough to feel blunt nails press to his skin.
"What are you telling them now?" Kaakha asks, trying to divert the conversation.
"Lies. Mostly shit." Sekhar grumbles and rubs at his arms.
"I will tell Raavan when we know more." Kaakha promises. Sekhar only sighs and hangs his head.
It's his fault. It's before the sun rises when he catches Jeevi trying to sneak out with his bags. A terrified look on his face and a helmet under his arm. Sekhar grabs his collar and shakes him, hissing threats close to his face.
"Your father will hunt you down. Both of us! You think a man who does what he does loves his son?" Sekhar snarls and Jeevi's face goes flat, his eyes wet and pupils tight.
"I know who my father is." The sentence is hollow and blanketed in shadow. "I know what his love looks like." Sekhar deflates and shoves him away.
"You'll be alone. Then die." Sekhar warns.
"I'm taking Cherry with me. I won't be alone." Jeevi says it to himself and stumbles back, wandering away. "I won't be alone."
Jeevi returned to them, a look of emptiness and the weight of defeat pulling at his limbs. It's too late when Sekhar realizes where Jeevi's resistance is rooted, the whispered task his father gave him. Kill Raavan. Kill Jai.
Sekhar's heart pounds. He runs through the open field, chasing Jeevi like a wildcat. Jeevi's curls whip around him, his panting a terror in the empty night. He clutches the pistol tightly and heads toward the chaos of gunfire and the slicing of swords. Sekhar caught him hiding in the brush as the coolies from the forest revealed themselves. Sekhar spotted the shine of Jeevi's gun, pointed at their Maharaj .
Now they are running, Sekhar's muscles scream and his lungs burn. Sekhar can't let Jeevi get to Raavan. Jai is his brother, he'll rip the bones from Jeevi's body if he has to.
They push through into the fight. Raavan wields his ax like a warrior, not able to see their struggle. Jeevi fumbles with the gun, it wiggles in the air and Jeevis' finger catches on the trigger. Sekhar shoves and pulls. A bullet is shot, It grazes Sekhar's temple and lands in Jai's shoulder. Jai's screams of agony join the cacophony of voices. Shatru and Tapan watch from a distance as Sekhar takes the pistol from trembling hands and bashes the blunt end against Jeevi's skull. As Sirinvasa's son sprawls in the dirt, Sekhar aims down and fires a bullet, the shot blowing off the top of Jeevi's skull.
Sekhar doesn't linger. He leaves the mangled corpse to join the fray, ready to die with his brothers.
Jai doesn’t trust Sekhar. He’s been pushed to the fringes. Kaakha has to meet with him away from Lanka , like a stranger.
“It’s been a trap this whole time. That son here to kill our Jai and now this little fruit , seducing him, taking his heart from us.” Sekhar hisses, his eyes wet and fists clenched. Kaakha lets out shaky breaths, knowing they’ve gone too far, knowing he’s made a mistake.
“I don’t know if this boy-” Kaakha pauses to swallow, unsure he believes his own words. “Jai doesn’t see him that way. They barely even speak.” Sekhar laughs at how Kaakha can be so blind.
"They don't know we've killed Jeevi, or that we found out his task to kill Raavan. They think it was the coolies . We play this like we want to bring down Lanka , and get them inside." Kaakha grasps at the plan like it isn't a glass house built on sand.
"Hopefully, we can learn enough to inform Raavan after they meet. They won't trust us enough until then. Raavan will know what to do." Kaakha nods, soothing himself with his new idea.
Sekhar only frowns, the sound of a car approaching interrupting them. Through the shadow of night, they watch a man emerge, smiling to greet them. He isn't the Sirinvasa Sekhar met at first but he looks similar, in the eyes and teeth.
"Ah! Princelings of Lanka , here to betray their King. The stories of brother and brother, never a bore to the universe." The man chuckles deep and wide, holding his belly as it moves. Kaakha steps forward, handing over the small pot with Jeevi's bones. Sirinvasa clicks his tongue and shows his teeth.
"My foolish nephew. A disappointment even in the end." He rattles the pot playfully and hands it to one of his men. "Not much to be done. It was our fault to send the coolies . I know my brother will understand." Sirinvasa winks. Kaakha swallows nervously.
"We can set up a meet. Inside Lanka . Raavan wants to do business first, we know he isn't foolish enough for an attack just yet. He wants your wealth before your lives. He will have too many guards with him at first, but eventually, we can convince him to come to you. Alone." Kaakha swallows again, hoping this Sirinvasa believes him.
"Greed ever a man's downfall." Sirinvasa laughs and the sound echoes in Kaakha's nightmares.
They hold each other now when they sleep. Jai wraps himself around Cherry like his protector, his cloak of armor. If Jai wakes in the night, it isn't from a nightmare, but the scent of jasmine at Cherry's nape. He fits his mouth there, kissing and nuzzling with his nose. Cherry will hum and snuffle and rub his head into the pillow. His hand will reach for Jai's in the darkness, finding it on his belly, his chest. They will fit their bodies closer and sigh, letting sleep back in.
When they both wake, and a kiss or a hand isn't enough, Cherry opens his body and Jai fits inside. Cherry rolls to his belly, or pulls his knees to his chest. Jai makes sure all of his body covers the man beneath him, insulating their warmth, giving Cherry a space to hide.
Their mouths knit together and their hands link like rings. The only sound in the room is their breath, the whispers of the sea, or the occasional laugh as they bump against each other's hearts. Cherry whispers blessings into Jai's ear and Jai kisses the mantra from his lips.
Jai knows the world outside this room is dangerous. Everything I do is dangerous . He knows killing Sirinvasa won't heal the wound left after losing Mounisha, nor will it protect Cherry from Jai's curse. But in this room, in the cover of soft shadows, Jai lets himself be held and loved and whispers his plea to the universe.
Don't take him from me.
They are interrupted in a soft afterglow by a knock at Jai's door. Cherry stretches like a sleeping cat and smiles as he watches Jai leave their bed. Jai ties a lungi quickly and meets an exhausted Shatru at his door.
"We found him."
Sekhar wakes to ice water being thrown in his face. He heaves and spits and registers pain as it flares through his body. When his nausea fades and his vision comes back to him, he sees Jai watching him, sitting on a stool, a pistol in his limp hand.
Sekhar's hands are tied in front of him and he's sitting on the floor in the weapons shed, near the shooting range. The room Cherry attacked him in. The same light swings overhead but the bulb is burned out and the bright afternoon sun seeps in through cracks in the wood, illuminating Jai's fallen expression. Sekhar stares at his binds and tugs on them gently, his expression curious instead of panicked.
"Where's Kaakha?" He asks Jai in a soft voice.
"Bleeding in a bed. Unconscious." Jai answers, his voice low and angry. Sekhar scoffs but his eyes are pained.
"You were always so fucking stupid." Jai accentuates the insult by standing fast and kicking Sekhar's hip. Sekhar cries out in pain and tries to curl into himself.
"But I know you. You aren't this co-co-cold. You didn't know, did you?" Jai asks, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Sekhar looks at him defeated, refusing to respond, his own eyes growing wet.
"That he was their brother ." Jai hisses. Sekhar shakes and looks angry, confusion coloring his face.
"Who?!" Sekhar pleads, not wanting to know the answer.
Jai stands again and rushes to the small wooden window without glass. He rips open the shutter and reveals a portrait of the beach Jai's bedroom window faces. Sekhar can see the impaled bodies and smell the rot. He lets out a panicked noise.
"I put him on that be-beach like I promised!" Jai yells and rushes back to grab Sekhar's collar. What did you do to fulfill your v-vow?!" Sekhar sputters and twists in Jai's grip.
"It-It isn't him . He works for them! He-he. I was going to find-" Jai pushes at him and puts his boot in Sekhar's ribs, forcing a scream.
"All for what?! Mo-Mo-Money?! A whore who hung herself?!" Jai shoves the pistol down on a table and leans over it, his body shaking violently.
"She wasn't a whore!" Sekhar cries. It's sad and he sobs at the end of it. They both tremble in the tumultuous space, emotions high and terrible, their shudders harmonizing like a death rattle.
"You think I would? I'm a rat?" Sekhar breathes the words with sorrow. Jai doesn't respond, only swallows. The silent answer makes Sekhar sob and cry out.
"Was it him? You got him?" Sekhar tries to control his warbling voice, hopeful, sniffling, and looking at Jai with tears streaming down his face. Jai sways his head yes, cold and empty.
"She was y-your sister. How could you do this?" Jai's voice goes thin, tears now falling. Sekhar scoffs again, his eyes even softer, even sadder.
"Not sister." Sekhar whispers. "She loved me. I loved her." Sekhar's eyes start to glaze over with memory.
"She kissed me. With the coconuts. We were going to run away. Get married." Sekhar laughs, his voice a rasp, sniffing again. "Have babies." Jai is struck still, his face twisted in pain.
"She wanted to go. I was stupid. I told her to stay. I didn't want to leave my brothers. I didn't want to leave you ." The words are bitter and angry. Sekhar swallows around them and lets his head lull back.
"It's my fault. We stayed and she died. I killed her." Sekhar says it with finality, his eyes rolling in his head like they don't belong there. Jai watches him without emotion, eventually clearing his throat to speak.
"You spent a year seeking out Sirinvasa. You approached him with an offer to betray us. You fed him information and manipulated Kaakha to help." Jai wipes at his face, telling himself this story as much as he's telling Sekhar. Comforted by its simple truth. Sekhar only smiles, fresh tears slipping down ruddy cheeks. and the blood on his teeth shining in the dark.
Kaakha wakes in terror, the pain flashing through his body like ocean waves. He can barely breathe, his vision a blur, but he calls out, trying to swallow down the nausea.
"Sekhar! Where is he?!" Kaakha's voice is terrified.
He pushes out and off his sickbed, at the protest of his nurse. He finds Tapan in a hall, sullen and exhausted. Kaakha calls out again.
"Sekhar?! Where is he?!" Kaakha demands. Tapan's face twists, his eyes wet.
"No." Kaakha whispers and runs.
The useless lightbulb still swings over their heads like a noose. Sekhar can hear seagulls on the beach and smell the salt. He smiles at Jai in defeat. He's so tired. He watches Jai sigh and wipe at his nose in anger. Sekhar watches his brother grab his pistol and stand.
"It's a Karma we share." Sekhar whispers. "We watch the people we love die." Jai freezes and Sekhar swallows around blood. " He'll die here too."
Jai lurches at him, crying out. He grabs Sekhar's hair and drags him. Pulls him by his collar, his neck, yanking him out of the shed and into the searing sunlight. Sekhar stumbles with his restraints and squints to try and see. Jai takes him to the field behind the shed, where flowers grow.
Sekhar can hear the birds again, and smell the sea, he admires the clear sky and the morning sun that shines down. The flowers look so beautiful, wet and new, blossoming under his feet.
Jai pushes him to his knees and stands behind him. Sekhar hears the click of his pistol. He lets tears fall down his face freely now and sighs at the light feeling in his chest. It's over. It doesn't have to hurt anymore.
He listens to the insects in the grass, watches them flutter after flowers, spreading pollen, only days away from death. He blinks and sees his mother's hands, Jai squatting in the rain. He can smell Indira's perfume and feel Mounisha's lips on his cheek, her cold arm in his hand. Rohini's palm prints on his skin burn and the sand under his fingernails sting. He watches the bright sun bend and dim, and from its flared rays he sees her.
She steps into the field. Mounisha . She smiles and holds out her hand. She isn't a child anymore but a woman, tall and strong, and dressed in gold. Sekhar laughs, his face bright like sunshine. He points to her and whispers.
"Jai, look. Mounis-"
The gunshot cracks through the air like lightning. Birds flutter from the brush and the insects go silent. Sekhar's body slumps into the grass and bleeds into the earth.
Jai's face is empty and pale, his cheeks wet with new tears. The pistol in his hand trembling. He hears a voice cry out and turns to watch Kaakha drop to his knees, sobbing into his hands.
"Jai." Kaakha wails. "What did you do?"
Chapter 13: Svargaṁ
Summary:
Life and death, destruction and creation.
Chapter Text
Lanka echoes with violence. Its tall halls, long corridors, and cold stone walls rattle against the grief that unfolds inside. It's concentrated in the great hall, the room built above the basement, where all the horror settles.
Jai is a cosmic force. Delicate porcelain and glass shatters, the wood in furniture cracks, and Jai's screams promise only one thing: destruction. His hands bleed, deep cuts, and gashes against anything light enough to throw. If he could, he'd crawl on his belly through the sharp rubble that litters the floor. He heaves and wails and pulls his bloody hands down his face, begging the universe to turn back time, to make it untrue, to bring him back.
Kaakha sits with Sekhar, his cold body laid out like a fallen tree. A sapling. Kaakha weeps over him, holding him in his lap, tightly, with reverence and sorrow. He's quiet and old in his grief, struck by the terror of it all. He calls Jai so softly. Wanting to help, but in shock, not wanting to let Sekhar's body go.
"Jai, he needs to be wrapped I-" Kaakha looks around helplessly, tears falling into his mustache. "-We need bamboo, we need-" Kaakha trembles and holds Sekhar tighter.
Jai sobs and crumples. His head in his bleeding hands, his body bowed in supplication, his stuttering cries a devotional and a plea. Apologizing, praying, heaving large gulps of air, and letting the tears and snot drip down his face like blood. He's cold, his hands throb, he pushes the back of his head to the wall and slouches, his legs drawn out like driftwood. He has nothing left in him but an endless well of tears. He can hear muffled voices but doesn't look up, doesn't respond.
Shatru and Tapan are with Kaakha, kneeling with him, Shatru cries, Tapan rubs at the back of Kaakha's neck. He tells them the truth. Sekhar, Jeevi, Sirinvasa, the awful truth. They mourn too, trying to say goodbye. They calm Kaakha as he sobs out apologies.
"He needs to be wrapped. " Kaakha pleads, looking at the two of them with wide, terrified eyes. "We have to-We have to tie-" Kaakha's face crumples and Tapan tries to comfort him.
"I will call the priest Baba. I will make sure." Tapan assures him and pulls out his cell phone. Kaakha only nods and sniffs.
Shatru puts his hand to Sekhar, crying quietly and begging for forgiveness without saying it. He grabs Kaakha too. Not knowing what to say but wanting Kaakha to know it. Kaakha takes Sekhar's hands in his and kisses the stiff knuckles.
"He was the smallest one." Kaakha tells them and whimpers. "I was afraid you would tease him." Kaakha breaks into sobs. "All you did was love him."
Jai ignores all of it, sitting slumped across the room, enjoying the mess he's made, pressing his head to the wall, letting his hands bleed into the wood flooring under him. He wonders how hard he will need to press to crack his skull. To let his nerve endings branch out like roots and vines, espalier the flesh of his body into the porous stone of the haveli. Spread like Cherry's mycelium and create tunnels of pulsing membrane in this castle's foundation. He can breathe and inflate these walls, pump blood through pipes, grow and creak and stretch, and watch Lanka swell. Ever expanding the tomb he's created here. This living samādhi.
A soft hand on his arm. Jai feels it, small and warm. A hand he knows belongs there.
" Jaanu…Gundello. What happened?" Cherry's voice cracks.
Jai won't turn to look at him, he can only see the back of Sekhar's head, and feel Sekhar's small hand under his own. He wants to stay numb like this, but Jai feels Cherry move and hears a muffle of voices. Jai's hearing is slow but he realizes the sounds are frantic. When he finally turns, he watches Shatru tug forcefully at Cherry's arm and pull him away. Cherry calls for Jai. His voice is strained. The nerves in Jai's body, seeking the stone wall, shudder and wither. Jai pushes away from it, fast and urgent, his nerves snapping like elastic bands.
He watches Shatru drag a frightened Cherry down the hall and Jai stumbles to stand. Shatru is so much taller, Cherry trips trying to keep up, pulling at Shatru's hand to let go, screeching for Jai now. Jai follows, his voice trying to speak, like an old engine trying to start. Shatru pulls Cherry's arm hard and shoves him into a storage room. A pantry for rice and lentils. Shatru follows and slams the door behind him, locking it swiftly.
Their panting is the only sound in the room. The light is on but it's low and the shadows over Shatru's face are frightening. Cherry gets out of Shatrus' grip and walks backward, making himself small, his dark eyes wide and wavering from Shatru to the only door behind him. Shatru wipes at his tears with fast angry movements.
"Did you know about Jeevi?!" Shatru asks, loud and unstable. Cherry's brows pinch.
"J-Jeevi?" Cherry asks. There's a loud pound at the door and Cherry startles. Shatru ignores it.
"Don't fucking lie!" Shatru's voice is wild and desperate. The door bangs again and Cherry can hear desperate breathing and a grunt.
"You came here with him! Srinivasa's son! Sent here to kill Jai!" Cherry makes a terrified noise. Another pound on the door and another. The doorknob rattles and the heavy wood starts to creak.
"Who's Srinivasa ?" Cherry asks weakly.
Shatru responds with a cry and slaps Cherry into the wall, then yanks his hair. Cherry calls out for Jai again. A hard wild pound on the door and a weak cry responds. Cherry doesn't know what to do. He wants to protect himself but he's scared of hurting Shatru, someone important to Jai, someone who's clearly not himself right now. Cherry pushes at Shatru's chest, afraid Shatru is going to start choking him. The pounding is constant now and Jai starts to yell. His voice is wild and dangerous.
"Shatru! Atanni tākavaddu! Paḷḷu rālagoḍta! Tōlu tīsta! Atanni veḷḷanivvaṇḍi! Shatru!"
( Don't touch him! I'll break your teeth! I'll skin you alive! Let him go! )
Jai slams his shoulder into the door over and over until it finally bursts open. Wood splinters into the air and one of the hinges tears away from the frame. Jai sees Shatru pinning Cherry and rushes him. He makes a wild noise and pulls Shatru by the shirt, forcing him against the opposite wall and away from Cherry. Shatru gives Jai a pained look and then sobs. Jai's face is swiped with his own blood and it does something complicated. He grabs Cherry's arm and pulls him out into the hall. Cherry clutches him, trying to hide in Jai's larger body.
When Jai turns, he faces Shatru, now heaving his sorrow against the door frame, Tapan, holding his phone, a look of grief on his face, and Kaakha, standing with Sekhar's blood soaked into his kurta. Jai's eyes find Sekhar's body lying on straw and cotton, his face crumples, but he forces it back to stone. It's a moment that changes them, a moment where they face each other and accept the cavern that's grown between them. Jai's face hardens further and he turns, pressing his forehead to Cherry's. He makes his choice and walks away, taking Cherry's hand, leaving his family behind.
"You always have something bandaged." Cherry whispers into the dark room. Jai is quiet and still. Cherry's fingertips graze the gauze on Jai's hands and his eyes turn wet.
"Please tell me about Jeevi. Please." Cherry pleads.
They're awake together on Jai's bed. They slept through the day, fitful with periodic interruptions of Jai's grief. Cherry did his best to hold him, to soothe the ache, but the harder he tried, the stiffer Jai became. Now they sit, Jai is as still as a statue, staring at nothing, and Cherry begs him to speak.
"Chandu, I don't ask questions, but please. What happened?" Cherry asks again. Jai hears the endearment and it sounds sour. When he finally turns to face Cherry his eyes are clouded. They look angry.
"Your f-f-friend came to Lanka to kill me. Sekhar s-stopped him." Jai's voice is hoarse, pulled tight from screaming. Cherry remembers that night. Sekhar's bleeding head, Jai's blood on his hands, Touching Sekhar's feet. Cherry shrinks, his stomach flipping.
"I was l-lied to that Sekhar was involved. I killed m-m-my brother ." The word ' again' ghosts over Jai's lips but he doesn't say it. The image of Sekhar’s body in the hall flashes in both of their minds. Cherry remembers the conversation with Kaakha in the kitchen. The mention of betrayal. Jai had said he trusted Cherry. Does he still trust him?
“Who is Srinivasa?” Cherry asks in a thin voice, weak and afraid of the answer. “He was the man you are looking for? Those bodies on the beach?”
Jai doesn’t know why he can’t answer, why he can’t talk about Mounisha. It’s over now. Srinivasa is dead. Why can’t he lie about it either? He stands and moves to his cabinet. Silent. He pulls open its golden shrine and keeps his back to Cherry. Cherry follows him, quiet and desperate.
“Was he bad?” Cherry pleads. “Was Jeevi like him?” The tears in Cherry’s eyes swell, he begs with them. Jai’s face gives nothing, it’s cold and stiff like marble, the well finally dry.
“Are you like Jeevi ?” Jai hisses and Cherry recoils. His tears fall now and he pulls at his fingers.
Cherry answers no. It’s whispered so softly and so earnestly that Jai’s chest aches. Cherry tries to touch Jai, to build some kind of contact but Jai turns away, back to the bed, closing the cabinet with force. Jai doesn’t ask him to leave, and Cherry would refuse to even if he did. They go back to sleep, Cherry sniffling, a palm on Jai’s back, trying desperately to push in.
Jai wakes once in the night. He turns gently to watch Cherry sleep, the once soft lines on his face are now stiff, his brow creased in worry and his fists clenched near his chest, unable to reach out.
Jai wonders if he will kill him too.
The funeral is a long affair. It's done properly this time, with oil and bamboo and Kaakha serving as kartā. It feels wrong for Jai to do it. Cherry wears his own whites and they stand at a distance, not touching. Jai seeks no comfort and Cherry spends the week in his own bed.
Kaakha leaves to be with his sister, unable to meet Jai's eyes. He spends a week out of town, mourning with his own family . When he returns they don't talk about it.
"You tell me e-everything from now on. You follow every instruction I give. You don't ar-ar-argue." Jai says in a firm voice. Refusing to face him. Kaakha nods, his mouth a tight line. He opens it to say something but Jai walks away. Kaakha watches him disappear like a fluttering flame, no kindling left to keep him lit.
They stop having breakfast together.
Shatru tries to apologize but Jai interrupts him with an assignment. It's clipped and unemotional, an important meeting with Sarkaar. Shatru takes it with a sullen face and leaves. Shatru wants to apologize to Cherry but his pride won't let him. Instead, he accepts the distance, spending more time in Berhampur, Sekhar's duties are his now.
Tapan is different. Tapan watches Jai so closely, so quietly. It's late one evening when he decides to come forward, entering Jai's room and pushing into his space. Tapan sits in the armchair across from Jai and folds his legs, ignoring the displeased scour on Jai's face. Tapan holds a small file and hands it out before speaking.
"Ayyadevara Abhyudit Charan Tej . Born to Adi-Andhra parents." Tapan uses an even tone, non-threatening. Jai turns and raises his brows, his face softening.
"I've read his report. It didn't me-mention caste." Jai's voice is a rasp, this time from too little use.
"I decided to be a bit more thorough." Tapan answers. The unspoken question of Kaakaha's intentions with the original report goes unsaid. "I spoke with a detective in Berhampur and a few in Hyderabad. I thought you might want more information right now."
Jai's eyes soften with hope and he sways his head tightly for Tapan to continue.
"His parents left their village for the city and became estranged to their family. The marriage was for love and went against an arrangement. They ran." Tapan pauses and strokes his mustache. Jai turns a page and pulls his reading glasses from his vest.
"Cherry was a miracle. His mother was in an auto accident as a child and was told she couldn't conceive. It's why he's an only child. His father drove a tuk-tuk and his mother wove garlands for the nearby Temple." Tapan continues.
Jai plucks at the report, removing an old, faded photograph. It's clearly Cherry's parents holding a very small, very happy toddler. Jai smiles at how beautiful Cherry was as a baby and feels his heart swell. They look happy.
"He died during the attack. She died a few days later in hospital." Tapan's voice is low and Jai sighs, closing the file.
"Both parents had a clean criminal record. Not one incident. No ties to Srinivasa or even Mattu Bhai. It was all karma ." Tapan says it with sympathy and Jai hums.
"Cherry's own criminal record is only his initial arrest, clearly a payoff, and then a traffic violation last year." Tapan chuckles and Jai raises an eyebrow.
"He jumped into stalled traffic to chase a child beggar who stole his radio off his dash." They both smile. Jai remembers the beetle story and his chest warms.
"He's a sweetling Jai. He had nowhere to go and he ended up here." Tapan swallows, his eyes going kind. "Like all of us." Tapan stands and moves to leave, stopping once to place a firm hand on Jai's shoulder.
"He loves you like we do." Tapan whispers and leaves the room quietly.
Jai's jaw squeezes and he lets his eyes slip close with a sigh, the stubborn tears finally falling.
Kaakha warns Jai that this is their past coming back to haunt them. Killing Tiwari's brother started a chain reaction they are now starting to see the repercussions of. The meeting with Sashtri only serves to aggravate the universe further.
Jai's crumbling relationship with Sarkar is only soured further by his son. Jai was already wary of Sarkar's involvement with Srinivasa and now this insult from Deva.
Granted, cutting his son's tongue may not have helped things, but it only makes taking Sashtri's offer easier. With blade in hand and blood on his knuckles, Jai lets Sarkar know.
He will be running for MP, opposing Sarkar's run.
Lanka is quiet at night. Its tall pillars and dark walls cast deep shadows. The only sound is ticking clocks, the rustling of the wind, and tonight, the faint hum of an old television. It's late and Jai is in his sleep clothes, trying to rest, trying to find some peace after the past few days. There is a small lounge room in the east wing of the haveli, it's simple and cozy. There is an inlet lounge against the wall with curtains, a few bookshelves, and floor-to-ceiling windows that face the sea. The moon shines in tonight, and Jai is grateful for the privacy. He wants to hide.
In addition to its classic architecture, Jai had a small, old television installed, hanging from the ceiling inside the inlet. Jai can lie down and watch his favorite old films on VHS when he wants to be alone. The movie plays softly as the wind kisses the tall windows and the dark night makes him feel small.
He isn't alone for long, he can hear the small sounds of bare feet and he smells Cherry before he sees him. Jasmine lotion and cedar. Jai peels back the gauzy curtain with a few fingers and spots Cherry standing behind the large wooden arch splitting the room. He also sees the thin quilt Cherry carries over his shoulders like a cloak, trying to hide in its soft patchwork. His expression is nervous and shy. Jai sighs and softens, hooking his fingers forward in invitation.
Cherry smiles, it's bright and easy, obvious relief washing over his face. He shuffles forward and crawls into the small space. Jai grunts and laughs as Cherry stuffs himself into the small groove between Jai and the wall, laying out his quilt to cuddle close and watch the movie with him. Jai's arm comes around him and he hums. Cherry wiggles again to get comfortable, resting his cheek on Jai's chest, and makes a curious noise at the television. The movie is old, black and white, fuzzy from aged film, and the audio thick like cotton.
"What is it? I haven't seen many old ones." Cherry chirps. Jai hums.
"Bhookailas ." Jai murmurs. Cherry watches as N.T. Rama Rao, young and stout, wanders through a forest singing. He's dressed like a Rishi, with Rudraksha seeds on his arms and the Tripundra marked on his forehead.
"The mountain?" Cherry asks.
"A story about Raavan." Jai corrects. Cherry raises his eyebrows.
"Not that story." Jai laughs. "Before p-p-princelings from Ayodhya ."
"Is that him?" Cherry asks excitedly, watching the man on screen sing. "I didn't know he had stories before Ram and Sita," Cherry says. Jai hums and lets his fingers play with Cherry's hair.
"Smaller stories. Folk Ramayanas." Jai mumbles. "My mother liked it. It made her laugh."
Cherry smiles to himself at the tender admission and lets his hand rub over Jai's belly in affection. They watch as Raavan meets Narada, arguing about lineage. Cherry's feet find Jai's and he rubs them together, seeking skin.
"He is handsome. He looks a little like you." Cherry coos and Jai chuckles.
They watch together in silence, their hands roaming softly. When Raavan makes it to the mountain, Cherry's heart fills with affection. Raavan offering penance, his devotion, and strength of will. Cherry holds Jai tighter, reminded of the love he feels for him. How much Jai has had to survive, how strong he is too. Cherry pushes his face closer to Jai's body and hums, bursting with affection. Jai makes a noise, his hand rubbing at Cherry's back. Cherry pushes up on his elbow, watching Jai with wet eyes.
"I missed you." Cherry whispers.
Jai only swallows, his eyes wide, knowing that deep down, he feels the same. He also knows, they won't talk about it. They will pretend Jai's coldness was a dream, something that can't touch them right now. Cherry will allow it and that feels awful. Jai puts a hand on Cherry's neck, and without the language to explain things, wanting that awful feeling to end, he pulls Cherry's mouth down for a kiss.
It's soft at first, loving, and perfect. Jai feels the brush of Cherry's growing mustache on his lips and Cherry's square hands roaming over Jai's chest. It's slow. The heat of their mouths and the shifting of their bodies to align. Jai rolls on top, and Cherry sighs in comfort, feeling pressed, feeling protected. They kiss and stretch and mold themselves into better shapes, ones that mirror and slot into place. Cherry starts to breathe, his hands pulling upwards against Jai's chest, seeking his heartbeat. Jai tugs at his top, the soft linen rustling and Cherry's hands finding skin under coarse hair. Their mouths find each other again and again. Raavan's melodic singing, his cry and plea to Shiva, plays behind them.
Cherry puts his hand between Jai's thighs, cupping the rigid flesh he finds there, pushing and pulling against it. Jai shifts his hips against him, seeking more, his tongue moving lazily over Cherry's. They tug off the rest of their clothing and press their bodies flush against each other. It's gasps and touching and warm breath on soft skin. Cherry hides himself under Jai, his hand wandering and stroking and pulling on Jai's cock, asking for it, already desperate to be closer. Jai shifts down, the bedding is soft and clean and Cherry slumps into it.
Jai uses his mouth and Cherry raises his hips and legs to push closer. The sounds are still quiet, matching the pitch of rustling fabric and blowing wind, the white fuzz of the old television. Cherry's hips in Jai's hands, Jai's tongue on his skin, the taste of iron and cum. Cherry presses his head and shoulders into the bedding, twisting and moaning softly. Jai's hands wader, pressing dents into Cherry's stomach and chest, the fine hair and strong muscle shifting. Cherry's dark skin looks so beautiful under the moonlight and against the light sheets, the glow of Raavan shining down.
Cherry's hands find Jai's hair, his neck, and round shoulders. Cherry pushes and pulls, Jai's mouth is hot, and tight, and everywhere. Heat pools again under Cherry's belly, his nerve endings vibrate, and his skin flushes. Cherry moans and gasps, his breath hitching with each swath of Jai’s tongue, and his belly trembles. Jai yearns. His own hips twist, and seek friction, and his cock feels so hard it hurts. It hangs like a weight between his legs and Cherry's body pulls it like a magnet.
Jai lifts up, stretching over Cherry again, their mouths knit, slow tongues and the scratch of hair, wet sounds against fuzzy old film. They pant and twist like Naga's fighting over the Devas' affection. Cherry wiggles a hand out, grabbing for his sleep pants, pressing a small pot into Jai's palm. Jai breathes a laugh into Cherry's mouth. It's calendula salve, knowing Cherry brought it, hoping for sex, makes Jai's body warm even further. Cherry blushes at being seen and gets another kiss for being bold.
"I washed too." Cherry whispers, pressing Jai's now slick fingers between his thighs.
Jai wants to laugh again but he sees the sincerity in Cherry's eyes. He realizes it wasn't being bold, it was hope, it was loneliness, and heartache. Jai kisses that feeling away too and fits his fingers inside instead. It's a hot blur after that, even wetter sounds and louder moans, Cherry's body stretching like wax, his insides hot and tight. Jai shuddering and thrusting against him and it's kissing and tongues and sweat and hair fanned out.
Jai can only smell calendula and Cherry's elbows and he's pushing inside. Cherry's legs wrap around him and he holds Jai like he's scared, like this is the only way Cherry can keep him, and if he closes his eyes, if he sleeps, Jai will disappear. Jai starts to thrust and Cherry is trembling, his eyes wide and deep, his mouth opening and closing, wanting to speak but without a voice. Jai knows the words, he can hear them unspoken, he knows what Cherry wants to say. Jai doesn't let him. He presses his mouth over the words and keeps them locked in the dark. He can't hear them right now, his tender heart can't take it. It will kill him.
Jai kisses and kisses and swallows Cherry's love like it's poison, settling in his throat and chest, tree roots blossoming flowers and making it impossible for him to speak. Jai remembers the story and wonders if Cherry will put his hands to Jai's throat to save him. While he wonders about poison and flowers, Jai cums inside him, spreading himself. Mycelium. Jai thinks. Cherry cums too, convinced this feeling is love, when Jai knows they are dying.
They kiss and wash and Cherry wraps around Jai like a vine, happy and sated, sleeping so easily. Jai watches the rest of the movie alone, stroking Cherry's hair.
When Raavan offers his severed head at the mountain, Jai accepts his hard-earned truths. A part of his heart burned with Sekhar's body.
♫ And, it's over.
Baba: Endearment, father or male elder. Used mostly in the north as Tapan in JLK is Sikh.
Samādhi: A monument or tomb for the dead.
Jaanu: Endearment, my life.
Gundello: Endearment, my heart.
Kartā: The eldest male of the household, responsible for certain funeral rites.
Adi-Andhra: The "lower caste" original people of Andhra Pradesh.
Bhookailas: Mount Kailash on earth, in Hinduism - the abode of Shiva and Parvati.
Rudraksha: Spiritual beads usually worn in Mala's for Shiva.
Tripundra: Tilak worn by devotees of Shiva.
Nāga: Divine race of snakes in Hinduism, one is worn by Shiva.
Devas: In Hinduism, celestial beings associated with various aspects of the cosmos.
Cherry's name: Abhyudit - Risen as the Sun.
Chapter 14: Maraṇaṁ
Summary:
The end of all things.
Chapter Text
♫ The sun has yet to peak over the horizon, but Jai can already see her light. It washes the island in a soft hue that mirrors the gauzy sky. He's had his prayers and his practice. He's ready to move through the haveli, towards his breakfast, when his eyes catch Tapan through a window, wandering the beach. Jai stops to admire his brother, his stoic nature, his loyalty, and his devotion. When admiration is not enough, Jai decides to join him and leaves the haveli to trudge through sand and the early morning mist. Tapan has stopped, watching the waves as they crash and the early morning birds as they dip down to hunt for their breakfast. The corner of Tapan's mouth tilts as he recognizes Jai next to him.
"You should come out here more often in the morning. The air is good for your lungs." Tapan quips.
Jai only hums and squints at the vast sea, so clear during the day. They stand together in silence for a few moments, enjoying the cooler air and the sounds of life. Tapan breathes out heavily, and it sounds like relief.
"I come here to see her. I think she's here right when the sun hits the water this way." Tapan says quietly and squints one eye as he focuses on the light.
"I think she left a part of herself here for us, or to see the turtles again." Tapan laughs, it sounds easy, Jai hates it.
"She didn't die in li-light." Jai's words are harsh and clipped. The softening of her death feels like an insult.
"The basement was dark and co-cold. You didn't see what-" Jai stops, his throat growing tight, the memories too violent and too painful. Tapan turns to watch him, his expression confused and his face pinched.
"He never told you?" Tapan whispers. Jai turns, watching Tapan closely.
"You spoke that night with him when we finally came here, when you finally bought this-" Tapan pauses to wave his hand grimly towards the looming haveli and the shadows it casts.
"You were both so drunk and I heard her name. I thought he would have told you." Tapan sounds angry and clenches his jaw as he turns to watch the sea again.
"He could be so fucking selfish about her. Just like you." Tapan accuses. Jai opens his mouth to argue but Tapan continues.
"Sekhar and I found blood in the sand." Tapan snaps. "After we lit her pyre. It led a trail to-" Tapan looks around and then points to a cropping of rocks. "-There." Tapan finishes.
"A bloody rock, footprints, and the plastic pink flowers she wore in her hair." Tapan swallows, refusing to look at Jai now.
"He killed her here, Jai. Not in that basement. He took her there to-" Tapan doesn't finish, but they both hear the details in the echo. They both remember the blood on her legs and the inhumanity of her nudity.
"She died. She didn't endure that." Tapan says softly. "She died here. She stayed here. In the sun." He says it like he’s unsure, like he needs it to be true.
Jai is too exhausted to argue that they will never know what really happened, they can only make up dreams. Jai lets a tear fall but doesn't speak, doesn't look at Tapan. Jai squints, he concentrates but he doesn't see her in the light. He wants to so desperately, but he doesn't.
"I've fulfilled my vow." Tapan says it with conviction. "Simran wants me out. I want it to." Jai swallows, not entirely surprised.
"Most m-m-men never make it out of this life. Most men wouldn't ask." Jai says. Tapan ignores the unspoken threat.
"Most men aren't their Maharaj's brother ." Tapan says and smiles. He isn't afraid of Jai. Jai isn't sure Tapan is afraid of anything .
"I want a wife and children. I want to live for them, not for the dead." Tapan tries to say it with love, but Jai's heart turns to stone. Nothing can get through.
Tapan waits, hoping for something, giving the universe a moment to breathe, giving Jai space to bloom. He yearns for it, one moment from Jai, one thing, something to hold onto. It doesn't happen. Tapan sighs and turns to leave.
"I need you to stay." Jai calls without turning. Tapan stops, his boots stuck in the sand.
"Just for tonight." Jai adds. He turns and his face softens. "I need to leave for Delhi . Shatru is in Be-Be-Berhampur and Kaakha is with his sister. Cherry will be alone."
Jai's eyes flick to the haveli then back to Tapan, almost pleading. Tapan sighs and notches his head.
"I will protect the little beetle hunter valiantly!" Tapan laughs, and the soft sound settles as Jai's last memory of him. Another needle in his heart, disguised as something gentle.
Cherry is trying to find sleep in Jai's bed, comforted by his smell and lingering warmth. The flowers at the window have finished their bloom and wither on the vine. He wonders on the impulse to destroy them. Does that flush through everyone who comes to Lanka? Is that why people run, why they fade in and out? Or has Cherry always been this way? He’s starting to worry. The feeling is constant now, the dread and sorrow. It only eases when he finds Jai’s arms. When he’s sated with affection and is allowed to bleed out his love for him. He misses him. He misses him.
Terrible thoughts are interrupted terribly. Suddenly, there's violence and a barrage of gunshots echoing off stone walls. Cherry bolts from the bed, unable to hear Jai’s voice among them, he hides. His heart races and his breath punches through him. Cherry hides with his hands over his mouth in Jai's closet. He begs the universe that Jai isn't in the fight, that he's safe in Delhi. He knows it's a surprise attack because Jai is gone, it has to be, but who? Those men on the beach are dead. Cherry cries and holds himself, it can't be like this forever, it can't always be like this. How much more of it can he take?
When everything is quiet for long enough, Cherry searches the empty haveli for life. Wood creaks and walls whisper but Cherry feels alone, his pounding heart a ghost of its own. He wanders with a trembling torch in thin sleep clothes and is drawn to the sounds of labored breathing. He finds Tapan, bleeding at his neck. Cherry scrambles towards him, he remembers this. His hands over the wound, blood seeping through. Again, he tries to stop it, tries to save someone who is dying.
"Tell him to take care of my sister. Please. T-tell him." Tapan begs, his voice wet with blood. Cherry promises. Cherry cries with him. He doesn't know Tapan well, but he's tired of watching men die, he's tired of hearing their last cries, the looks of terror in their eyes as they struggle to hold on. Tapan smiles and puts a hand on Cherry's cheek.
"Don't let him forget-" Tapan's fear is gone now, his breathing is slowing and his eyes are going glassy. "-that he loves you."
Cherry sits with him, holding him close, Tapan's chest rises and falls so slowly now, the memory is a repeat, a torture. Tapan's eyes have so little light, his face pale and soft. He watches something behind Cherry, something not there.
"She is in the light." The last word is said in a breath, long and wispy, and Tapan's heart stops.
Jai won't be back until tomorrow. They are alone with this. A limbo of death again. Cherry had to watch Shatru pull Tapan's body away before he could return to Jai's room to wash the blood off. The blood up to his elbows looks just like his father's blood. Everyone keeps dying. He can't sleep like this. He can't live like this. Cherry can’t feel the warmth of the water and his tears mix in with the soap suds.
The feeling is back, it's back and he's afraid it will be with him his whole life. No home, being thrown from one horrible thing to another, ran through like a rag doll. The universe laughing at the melodrama of his broken, useless life. Cherry sobs again, he pictures a village, chickens, a small puppy, and Jai's heartbeat under his cheek. His chest aches when he thinks of it, it's too much to want, impossible to have. This is the only thing he can have, terror and cold nights alone. He tries to focus on the laughter, Jai's lips, his arms around him, his wispy laugh, and the wrinkles that stretch under his eyes. It aches when he realizes it isn't enough, but leaving isn't an option. He loves Jai. He will die with Jai. Cherry sniffs and finishes washing. He needs to get the blood off, Jai will be home soon.
Jai arrives at night. Tapan's body is with Simran. He finds only Kaakha and Shatru in Lanka, waiting outside for him. They are mourning, another of Kaakha's sons dead, another brother to burn. Jai is panicked and with a frantic expression, his breathing labored.
"W-w-where is he?!" Jai demands. Shatru looks at him with red-rimmed eyes and sniffs.
"I told you, being oiled and prepared, with his sister” Shatru’s voice is thin and full of sorrow. “His cremation is tomorrow." Shatru explains, his face twisting in grief. Kaakha sighs, his wet eyes scanning them both.
"He wasn't asking about Tapan." Kaakha sniffs and looks at his hands, Tapan's blood on them now, like the others. Another child he doomed to die in this life. Shatru's face hardens and he grabs a file from his jacket. It's crumpled from being gripped too tightly and damp from the evening's rain.
"He's in there." Shatru notches his head toward the haveli . "They know about him too." Shatru shoves the folder at Jai's chest.
"That's where I was tonight. Asking around, breaking bones, all for the little beetle inside. I should have been here ." Shatru sobs again, putting a hand over his eyes.
Jai knows they were close, Shatru and Tapan, more so than Jai and either of them. Jai wants to comfort him, say he's sorry, say he's upset too, but too much has happened. Jai feels almost nothing now, he's lost so much, what is there left to feel? So, he stays quiet and takes the file. It's all there, clear in black ink.
"They know his name. They know he's important to you." Shatru wipes at his nose and shudders.
"They might have been looking for him tonight! He wasn’t in his room he-” Shatru sobs again, still thinking of Tapan. “-was in your bed." Shatru finishes with an edge and hardens his gaze.
"This life is all I've known. I know it will kill me, I know it will kill you." Shatru swallows, lamenting on his own words. Jai can only watch him with empty eyes. Empty insides.
"Do you want it to kill him too?" Shatru asks, then walks away.
Kaakha makes a small noise. He reaches out to touch Jai, to connect, and let him know he's here. Jai ignores it, walking into the haveli before Kaakha can stop him.
Jai can feel his sad eyes on his back the entire way
Jai stares at his own bedroom door. He clutches Cherry's report in his hand tightly. He knows what's waiting for him and he's afraid to see it. He can admit it now, now that he knows what he has to do. He loves Cherry . He's never loved anyone like he does Cherry. The feeling is bigger than everything he's ever known. He will give up everything for Cherry, even his own happiness. Like everything he's ever loved, he can't keep it. Jai steadies himself. He has to be strong, he has to do this. He knows how to do this.
Cherry wakes immediately at the sound of the door creaking open. He sighs in relief when he recognizes Jai's silhouette and the musk of his cologne. Jai walks in slowly, trying to keep his distance, perhaps they can both just sleep, and Jai can do it tomorrow. But, as he nears the bed, Cherry leaps into his arms and holds him tight, snuffling into his shoulder. Jai wishes he could empathize with and comfort Cherry, he should , he loved Tapan, but Jai feels nothing. He only knows the truth now. He is cursed. Loving people gets them killed. He won't let it happen to Cherry. Cherry doesn't belong here.
Cherry hums as his trembling starts to subside and Jai's warmth starts to comfort him. Cherry ignores that Jai returns the hug loosely, his skin crawling at being touched right now, not wanting this night to be what it is. Not wanting any of it. When Cherry pulls back, his eyes are tender and nervous. Jai realizes Cherry is wearing Jai's sleep clothes again and his body aches at the affection that rushes through him.
"I'm sorry." Cherry whispers.
He says it like it's the only thing he can think of to say, like there are no words big enough to convey the mountain of pain and loss Jai has endured. Cherry only knows the skim of it, the boiling top layer of anguish and rage that still roils in Jai. He can't say it, it sticks to his chest and throat like bile, something foul and putrid, like acid eating the inner lining of his heart.
♫ Cherry's eyes are pleading. His hands run from Jai's shoulder to his neck and he leans in. Jai knows what he wants, he wants it too. No matter what pulls them apart, when Jai feels alone, when the world feels heavy, when the pain sears through his skin, he misses Cherry. He misses his soft eyes and funny laugh, the easy way Cherry sees the world, the way he's survived, and done so with the hope of something better. It pulls at Jai like he belongs in that bright future too. Then reality reminds him, that future is a dream, something Jai can't have.
The light is gone in this room but Cherry can still see Jai, the reflective white of their eyes meeting, the string tied to Jai's heart that tugs when Cherry moves. Cherry pulls, and their mouths find each other in the shadows. It's everything all at once, every feeling and sensation. Jai can't do this, Jai can't breathe like this, but tonight it has to happen. So, Jai is going to give Cherry this. Jai is going to kiss him, and push into his body, and say goodbye. They can pretend in this darkness, let the dream play out one last time.
They kiss and shift, and suddenly clothing is gone, and Cherry's body is pressed to his. His skin is warm and soft like always, a familiar touch now, something Jai's hands have memorized. Each muscle and joint is etched now under his palms. Jai sighs and feels it again. Jai feels possessive, squeezing and grabbing. He wants to steal this, take what isn't his anymore. He has to calm himself from sobbing about it.
Cherry wants Jai. His mouth is hot and his tongue is wet, he's hard and panting. There are hands and spit and lubricant and then fingers pushing in. The movements are confusing and heavy and Jai has to dodge every look and every touch that threatens enough intimacy to break him. Cherry holds on too tightly, too honest, his hands burn on Jai's skin and his moans scratch at Jai's ears. It's still the only thing he wants, the only thing Jai will ever beg for. More of this. More of Cherry. More and more and more of his love .
When Jai finally pushes in, Cherry cries out. It sounds desperate and panicked, with stuttering cracks in his voice, like it hurts. Jai sees the window cloud over and a vengeful storm cracks. The rain pelts at the castle, and the fluttering shadows it leaves on Cherry's skin look like flower petals. Cherry holds on so tightly, that he scratches at Jai, his blunt nails dragging over tight skin. It isn't enough to draw blood but it stings and Jai groans.
They move fast and hard, Jai's hips pumping frantically. Cherry tries to be quiet, clamping a hand over his mouth, but what for, Jai isn't sure. He tries to focus on the sensations, the feeling of farewell. His hands push and pull, his breathing swells fast and hard and his kisses are rough.
Cherry's mouth still finds him. Long pulls of their tongues, desperation as the wet veil of their broken love. Love . Jai thinks. Cherry won't say it now. He keeps his lips locked and hides in Jai's neck. Cherry looks scared of them and that stings too. Jai can only be comforted by the validation that his choice tonight is best. It's the only choice.
Cherry's hand is on himself. The closer Jai's orgasm comes, the closer Cherry's does too. The harder they press the more the memories flood in. Cherry's wet hair, his hands, his laugh, every moment of joy, Jai didn't know he had any joy left. Jai's heart starts to scream and burn as each memory is set aflame and replaced with others. Lava and Kusa burning, Mounisha in his arms, Sekhar and Tapan wrapped in white. Cherry will follow them. He squeezes his eyes and cuts it all out, all of it. It's him . He's the one thing they all share. How could Cherry love something like that, something like him . He fucking hates himself. He hates himself. When Cherry cums, crying out for him, he uses his real name, and Jai cums too.
"Jai! Jai! Jai!" Cherry prays and Jai quiets the devotional with one last kiss.
Jai's arms pull away like vines, untangling, swaying from the trees, and Cherry sighs into the bed, sated. Jai can't bear it, he looks so happy. Jai moves to the bathroom, walking like a hangman, grabbing a towel and wiping at himself. He doesn't know what to do next but the voice in his head pleads now, now, now. Jai speaks into the room, not looking at the bed.
"Tapan's fu-funeral is in the morning. I need to sleep." Jai's voice is flat.
He hears a rustle in the room and a small shuffle of breath. When he looks up and walks in, he sees Cherry smiling sweetly and pulling gently at the bed covers. He bends his legs and huffs to push his feet under. Jai realizes his mistake. It breaks his heart. Now, now, now. Jai moves quickly through the room. He throws the towel to the floor and breathes through his nose.
"I meant a-alone." Jai's words are clipped and low.
Cherry watches him move with confusion and fear. Good . Jai thinks. Afraid is good. Jai grabs at Cherry's arm and yanks, pulling him off the bed. Cherry makes a terrified noise, high and unsure. He stumbles as Jai pulls him, and puts a hand on Jai's arm, trying to placate him.
"You don't listen!" Jai's voice is even louder and he pushes Cherry in the direction of the bedroom door, hoping Cherry gets the hint. Cherry doesn't. His body retracts back to Jai like stretched elastic, like he's pulled to Jai against his will.
"W-What is wrong? Did I do something? What did I do?" Cherry's voice is sad and frantic, his hands grab at Jai's arms and he begs. Tears well in his eyes and his face crumples. Jai lets out an angry noise and pushes at Cherry's hold, trying to control this, trying to make it clear.
"You ask for to-to much!" Jai starts to yell but captures Cherry's wrists and calms himself.
"It was fun, you are a good fuck ." Jai watches Cherry's eyes go wider and his lips tremble.
"-But you-y-you want more than I can give. This isn't your room! You wo-wo-work for me! You aren't my fucking wife!" Jai yells it loud in Cherry's face and Cherry's knees sink, he cries and starts to breathe fast and hard, fat heavy tears falling now.
"Why are you saying this? Why are you talking to me like this? Jai!" Cherry cries in between sobs.
"Don't call me that!" Jai growls and shoves Cherry against the dresser behind them. Cherry lets out a scream as his back hits the wood and he pushes again at Jai, trying desperately to protect himself and cling to him at the same time.
"I don't know you." Jai says it low and angry against Cherry's face.
"You don't know me. I am cr-cr-cruel and violent and you are t-too weak for this." Jai hisses. Cherry sobs again, his face broken and his hands trembling.
"Take me to the basement!" Cherry pleads, his energy picking up. "Take me back, I can fix it! I can do it right! Please, Jaanu. Please Na Prema-" Jai snarls and interrupts him.
"I don't love you!" Jai says it ugly and deep, hoping it will stick, his own heart fluttering, beating its fists on the inside of his ribs, its small weak voice begging him to stop. Cherry makes a broken noise and twists his wrists still in Jai's grip. The pain of his skin stretching is a comfort.
"You're lying." Cherry accuses weakly. "You don't mean it. This isn't you! I do know you. I know how you feel!" Cherry sounds like he's begging, pleading with the universe to agree with him. Jai watches with wide eyes as Cherry's hands get free and come up to caress Jai's cheeks, trying to soothe him. Cherry’s love always stuns him, leaving him to tremble. Cherry's face is ragged and wet with tears but he smiles.
"I know you, Chandu. You're mine. Tell me what to do, please. Tell me." Cherry's voice breaks and he sobs again.
Jai wants to cry too, but instead, he shuts off. His face goes blank and he pushes Cherry back again. Cherry squeaks and Jai moves away fast, toward the cabinet. Cherry follows behind, stumbling and still begging, when Jai rips open the small door. The light is bright and burns Jai's eyes. It sears. They are still naked, bare again to the golden altar. Cherry starts to shout and scramble for Jai's hands, realization hitting.
Jai grabs for the cheetah figurine and yanks it past lotus petals. His brother's figures tumble over with light clinks and jasmine bursts into the air like dust. Cherry's pleas are agonizing as Jai moves with the small porcelain cub in his fist. His hands struggle and slap at Jai, trying to reach for it, trying to protect it.
"Please Jai, It's all I have of her! Please don't! I have nothing left!" Cherry begs. Jai continues to walk forcefully towards the door and Cherry stumbles next to him, openly crying. When they reach the door, Jai slams the figure down on the dresser and Cherry warbles a cry as he hears the porcelain creak. Jai grabs Cherry's arm again and brings his voice down low.
"You don't belong here." Jai says it with anger but his eyes are wet. Cherry's own eyes, now wide and sad, scan Jai's face frantically, searching for the man he recognizes, searching for his heart.
"I love you." It comes out so small and earnest. Cherry says it like it's the last words he will ever be allowed.
Cherry's voice is broken like a splintered bow, melodic strings snapping, trying so valiantly to make music, to sing a song that will heal the sorrow that swirls around Jai, that swirls around them both. Jai knows it has to be this. Jai knows he has to. Jai knows it will be the worst thing he's ever done.
It's fast. Jai's hand grips Cherry's upper arm tightly and the other swings back. Time stops, Jai can see the fear in both of them, the moment a living hell. The moment he changes into the demon he wants to be. Jai puts his weight into it. The sound is piercing and unforgivable. He slaps Cherry so hard it gives him whiplash. His hair fans like he’s being flogged and his eyes are gone from Jai’s sight. Cherry falls back against the door and crumples to the floor. Jai's heart shatters again. It will shatter again and again and again and again and it will never be whole.
Cherry won't look up from the floor, he clutches his cheek with a shaking hand, in shock, and in pain. Jai feels nothing, like he’s watching his body do this, giving control to the King of Lanka. Jai grabs Cherry again, yanking him back to pull open the door. He shoves Cherry roughly out. Cherry grunts and heaves as he lands, crumpled, in the hallway, naked and now shivering. He keeps his eyes on the wood, not looking at Jai.
"I want y-you and your things o-o-out. You don't work here an-anymore!" Jai shouts.
Jai grabs at the figure again, clutches it tight, then throws it hard into the hallway at Cherry's feet. Cherry sees the small glossy cub bounce and tumble violently. He wails and tries to reach for it, his breathing going ragged. When he finds it he cradles it close. It was strong, only a tail and a small paw were lost. When Cherry looks to the doorway he sees Jai standing naked and dark, the thunder outside crashing and the lightning providing a sick glow to his skin.
"King of the Titans, in fear of wh-whom the world, the Gods, titans, and men t-t-temble." Jai's face is a terror, the shadows cut through the soft curves of his expression and only convey pain and rage. Cherry's eyes are veiled by long hair and tears that evaporate into the wood floor under him, his palms pressed to it until his knuckles go white.
"Cursed Jackal! Basely demon! Call me by my only name! Raavan! " Jai bellows, the mask melting into his skin. The walls rattle with thunder and Cherry sobs. Jai slams his door shut and Cherry hears the lock click.
♫ Cherry sprints to his feet and slams his body against the door, pounding and screaming, pulling the doorknob frantically.
"YOU FUCKING COWARD!" Cherry's voice is a sharp scream, like razors against his vocal cords.
He pounds and pounds and screams, wild with boiling rage. His eyes flash around the hallway, through the window at the heavy downpour outside and the shadows it makes on the walls. This haveli is covered in art, figures, and plush carpets. All of it means nothing, decoration to cover the blood-soaked walls underneath. Cherry screams and screams and grabs at them. Smashing paintings, statues, vases and wall hangings, anything he can find in the halls.
He runs and screams through Lanka like a wailing ghost, destroying everything he can reach, and leaving a trail of carnage behind him. He's still naked and the dark castle makes his skin look cosmic, slick with sweat, his arms red with blood from cutting himself on sharp ceramic and stone. Cherry's hair is dripping ink, a dark poison from the bridled ache he now lets gnash at his teeth.
Cherry knows this place. He knows every room, every ornate design, every window and shadow. He knows where everything is kept. Cherry stops. He remembers one room and he remembers where something is kept. He runs fast through the halls, his feet slapping skin against stone and then thudding on carpet. He makes it to the kitchen and yanks open the pantry. He finds the petrol and the matchbox in a top drawer.
Cherry stomps through the Haveli with purpose. He has to walk through long corridors and empty rooms but he arrives. He uses a nearby decorative spear to pry open the door, splintering the wood with an echoing crack. The theater room.
Cherry starts with the costumes, soaking them in petrol and then the floor, even dousing the crowns and jewelry. He tosses the can to the floor with a bang and screams again, fighting with the matchbox to open it. His hands tremble as he strikes it, the smell of sulfur fizzing in the air as it lights. He holds it reverently, staring as the flame casts shadow and warmth. He cries again, new hot tears falling.
Jai did this. He was selfish like so many have been before. He's abandoned Cherry like the others too. Sanjana, with her cruelty, his own uncle who left him alone in prison, and his parents. Why did they die? Why did she leave him? He needs her now. He needs her. Cherry cries again and the match burns down its shaft. Cherry's face pinches and he moves to toss it when a small voice inside of him protests.
They didn't abandon you. They died.
Cherry's face falls and a small tear slips down his face. He pauses at a fork in his mind. The choice to listen or stamp it out. He listens. He didn't know his uncle, not well, he never claimed to love Cherry. He knew who Sanjana was and still, he pursued her. He followed her and saw how she treated strangers and her friends and still, he begged her to love him. Why? Cherry knew Jai was dangerous, a bad person. Jai told him time and time again without words that he would hurt him.
"You don't listen. You don't belong here."
The match burns out and Cherry drops his arm, his face going soft, realization setting in. He did this. He was a child, but he chose to trust his uncle. He chose to work for Sanjana. He chose Lanka . He isn't a doll being thrown around the universe, he made choices and now he is here. He doesn't know why, but it's the truth.
This was a choice. What choice will you make now?
He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t belong here. Cherry leaves the theater room slowly, quiet, and exhausted. He finds his cheetah figure, a tiny tail, and a tiny paw in the rubble. He finds his room and dresses and packs the things he cares about. He takes his saved money but leaves Jai's box.
As he walks through the castle one last time he sees himself in a mirror, he sees himself. He can look into it and know who he is. What he wants. What he feels. His eyes don't waver, they don't lie. He is the man he makes. The man his mother wanted him to be.
Cherry knows where everything is in this tomb. He grabs a trash bag from the kitchen and stuffs in two crowns from the theater room and a handful of jewelry too. His severance. He rushes into the garage, swipes the keys from a hanging nail, and runs the heavy motorcycle out into the rain.
Mounting the bike he turns his head back only once, the water mixing with his tears, his hair wet and thin. Lanka looms, another prison he gets to leave. Free of it. He kicks the engine on and drives away, the vines of Jai's hold snapping from him like broken tethers.
Deep in the haveli, in the bowels of Lanka, Jai lies on his bed in the dark, one hand on his throat and one on his diaphragm, rising and falling with each breath, practicing his speech.
“Pa-Pa-Pancha. Pe-Pe-Peru. Pa-pa-pa-pandu."
A folded newspaper lies with him, the last thing Tapan gave him before leaving. On the cover reads a bold headline.
KARMA REUNITES LONG LOST TWINS
An auto accident in Hyderabad has brought together two identical brothers who thought the other dead for almost 20 years!
The photo underneath is a blurry snap of two men, two familiar faces looking at Jai with shy and uncomfortable expressions. His own face duplicated twice. Lava and Kusa. Alive .
When Jai finally starts to cry, when he sobs and mourns again, he is comforted by the fact that there is nobody left in Lanka to hear it.
Chapter 15: Mārgaṁ
Summary:
At the bottom of a well, the only way out is up.
Chapter Text
Jai is dying. He can feel the once slick blood drying tacky on his skin and the pulsing waves of pain are starting to relent. A numbness is taking over and sounds are shallow, muffled by the veil. He isn’t surprised by the relief of death, he’s been so tired, it’s been an exhausting life, and the fight was wearing him thin. It’s been blanketed in a pain he has grown so weary of, and it has been so lonely.
That’s not true. Jai isn’t alone, at least not now. He considers it a gift from the universe to die in his brother’s arms. Lava holds him tightly, and he can feel Kusa’s hand on his back, a soft pressure from both sides. To be cradled by them in his final moments isn’t something he’s convinced he deserves, but his battered body can’t resist the affection of it. Jai is comforted, knowing he could save them, that he could make that sacrifice and die, assured he hasn’t left anything unfinished. Except, that isn’t true.
Memories engulf him like mist, like a warm bath. The safety he felt with his mother and brothers before their uncle came into their lives. The sting of rejection as they alienated him from their family. His mother dying, her cold hands and the terrified look in her eyes as she became feverish and lost. It’s a dark place. How she called for their father, a man he still knows so little about. He wonders absently if he will do that. Who will he call?
The fire. His brothers burning and the deep ache he felt at his mistake, the anger at being alone again, the fire and the fight. Kaakha finding him, Kaakha’s love, his old hands like paper on his skin. Indira’s softness and then her blood on stone. His brothers, Sekhar’s small hand under his. All of it fluttering through like photographs. Her. His sister.
Mounisha. Is she here? He wonders. When he sees her now, in his heart, she isn’t light or shadow, she is a small child watching turtles on the beach. She loved flowers and snakes. She wanted children. She wanted a yellow bike. She would cry at thunder and was terrified she might wake up one day alone again. She hated the taste of coriander and would stare at the dolls, dresses, and hair pins at markets like they were gold. She was funny. She was sweet. He loved her.
He loved her. He tries to end his life there. Those memories. After her, it was nothing but darkness. Except, that isn’t true.
“Ch-Ch-Cherry.” Jai’s voice is a wet rasp that Lava doesn’t hear. Everything is happening too fast and Lava can’t keep up.
"I have you Annayya, please don't go yet." Lava pleads, his arm around Jai's neck and the other pressed to the wound in his shoulder.
Lava's face crumples and he sobs, speaking into the space at Kusa and someone else Jai can’t see. The voices are frantic and Lava is panicking, heavy tears tumbling down both of their cheeks. Lava jostles, they both do. They are moving. Why are they moving? Kusa’s hands press at his back again and Jai groans. The smell of leather interior, the bump and grind of gravel against tires, they are in a car.
“How much longer!?” Lava’s voice is high and panicked. “He won’t stop bleeding!”
Kusa makes a terrified noise and sobs, his hands glued to the soaked fabric pressed to Jai's wounds. Kusa is kneeling on the floor. They are in the backseat, mashed together like when they were young, and would sleep in a pile of sheets and skinny limbs. Who is driving?
“Will he die?! Lava, will he die?!” Kusa asks frantically, he looks terrified, and his voice trembles.
“Keep your hands there-” Another voice shouts from the driver’s seat. “-and he won’t die!”
It takes a moment for Jai to realize it's Kaakha. The elder sounds terrified but keeps his voice strong and loud. Memories of Kaakha flood in too. The only man to treat him like a son. The man who gave him this wretched life. Jai feels Kusa press again, clothing or a cushion under his hands, soaked in Jai's blood. There is a heaving noise and another person shifts in their seat.
"Jai!" It's Shatru, yelling from the front. He's turned awkwardly facing the back, a hand pressed behind him to his own wound. "DON'T FUCKING DIE JAI!"
Jai almost laughs. Everyone he loves in such a small space and he's dying. Everyone he was afraid of losing, now begging him to stay. No, that isn't true either, not everyone. Jai looks into Lava's eyes and puts a hand on his arm.
"Ch-Cherry." He tries again, this time loud enough for Lava to hear. "Tell h-him I lo-lo-loved him." Jai finishes with a crack in his voice.
Lava listens with wide eyes, not sure if Jai is coherent. He thinks for a wild moment Jai is asking for food but the sentence processes properly and his face contorts again.
"You ha-have to tell hi-hi-him Lava. He do-doesn't know. He th-th-thinks I don't love him, he can't think I don't lo-lo-love him." The words are wet and thin, lined with desperation.
Jai’s mouth trembles and his eyes beg Lava to understand. He keeps his hand on Lava's arm in a tight grip. Lava sobs again and sways his head in a stunted back and forth, not quite sure what he is agreeing to but unwilling to say no to anything Jai needs right now. The car bounces again and Kusa makes a scared noise.
“What if he dies Lava?” Kusa asks, his voice soft and full of sorrow.
Lava’s eyes search both of them, frantic to find a solution, clinging to Jai’s body like it’s his own. Lava doesn’t have an answer, all he can do is remember. All he can offer is promises and memories.
“Amma’s fruit bowls.” Lava whispers. Kusa’s face pinches and he presses his forehead to his bloody flat hands.
“She made them for herself. The ripest fruit she could find, colorful and sweet.” Another tear tumbles down Lava’s cheek as he speaks to Jai.
“She would add salt and chili. She made them for herself but we would sit with her as she ate. Each bite would be one bite for each of us. Do you remember Jai?”
Jai smiles weakly, and his lidded eyes spill more tears.
“I’m sorry Jai. Please, Jai. Please, Jai.” Kusa begs in the quietest voice, his lips pressed to the bloody fabric on Jai’s back, his eyes squeezed closed. Lava’s hand finds Kusa’s and grips it tightly.
“It’s three of us Jai, not two.” Lava whispers and smiles. Jai watches him with wide eyes, energy suddenly returning to him.
“You have to stay with us. Lava and Kusa are nothing without Jai.” Lava's voice is soft but firm, his eyes so tender with love. Jai believes him.
“We’re here!” Kaakha shouts and shoves open his door, scrabbling to get them all out.
“I’m not a surgeon!” Das screeches, running through the clinic with bandages and gauze bundled in his arms, his glasses are skewed and he huffs as he moves to prep the sterile field.
Deva follows him closely behind. The two look a bit strange with each other, Das’s neat and academic look, next to Deva’s more rugged and casual style. They’ve always been a bit mismatched but they complement each other perfectly.
“I know Gold, I know.” Deva tries to keep his voice low and soft. “You can only do so much, but Jai is important to me. He is family.”
Das pauses in his frantic preparation and gives Deva a look of affection. His brows draw down and he thinks.
“The injured men I treated in Lanka were small things, easy for any doctor. If they are only flesh wounds I can help. Like the one you came in with that night.” Das smiles softly at the memory. Both their hearts fill at the recollection and Deva smiles too. Das goes worrisome again.
“If he is family, what if it’s more than a flesh wound? What if he dies?” Das's eyes are wide and afraid, he squeezes the medical supplies and his gloves make a light squeak. Deva responds with another smile, a softness that only takes over his features when he is with Das.
“I could never doubt you. You care too much.” Deva’s hand comes to Das’ cheek in a gentle caress. “You will do everything you can and if he dies, I will know you tried.” Deva smiles and presses their foreheads together. They enjoy it for a moment, breathing together, when suddenly Das shrieks and pulls back sharply.
“I have to maintain sterility!!” Das rubs his head and cheek with an alcohol pad furiously and Deva helps him set up his medical tray.
It’s not long before the wounded pour in. Kaakha and Lava carry Jai in on their shoulders, wobbling with a frantic Kusa helping Shatru walk. Das nearly faints. He directs them all to drop Jai on the prepped bed and gives them all their own seats to rest. Only Shatru sits. Lava and Kusa huddle around Jai and keep their hands on him. The walk from the auto was too painful and Jai lost consciousness. They cry as Das starts to push them away.
“I need to work, I need to work, I have this!” Das assures them. They hang back but watch with wide eyes and pale faces smeared with blood. Das suddenly registers they are triplets and stares for a moment before shaking himself and ripping at Jai’s kurta.
“Deva! Bangaru, I think everyone else is bleeding, please give them gauze until I can check them myself.” Deva makes an affirmative hum and moves to do so when Kaakha embraces Deva roughly and holds him tight.
“It’s over.” Kaakha whispers in Deva’s ear. Deva puts his hands on Kaakha’s back and tries to soothe the trembling man but shifts uncomfortably at the closeness. When he pulls back he smiles tightly and when Kaakha shows no wounds, Deva moves to Shatru.
“Ah! Fine! I’m fine!” Shatru grunts and waves his hand, the other hand pressed to his back. Deva grumbles and presses the gauze forcefully to Shatru’s wound.
“Still an asshole.” Deva grinds between his teeth and Shatru huffs a laugh. Deva watches as Kaakha collapses into a chair and Das works meticulously.
“It’s. It’s at least 3 wounds.” Das whispers.
Lava pushes closer again, worry etched all over his face. He opens his mouth to speak but Deva appears suddenly with bandages and a smile.
“You are hurt. Let me help you too. My Das has your brother.” Deva smiles again.
Das starts to work quickly in patching Jai up and Lava takes a breath to study them both before relenting. Suddenly, Lava feels faint, remembering his shoulder. Deva does the best he can with what Das has taught him but all he can manage is pressure on their wounds. Kusa has only a cut on his face but Lava’s shoulder and Shatru's back need Das’s attention too.
When there isn't much left to do but to wait for Das to work, Deva shuffles them all further across the room and pulls a privacy curtain halfway around Das, resisting the urge to give him a gentle kiss while he works with focus and intensity. Deva makes sure to avert his eyes from Jai, he needs to be strong for Das right now, and thinking about Jai dying won’t help. Deva brings them all water and a bit of rice for strength. Shatru declines the food and Kaakha leaves to find the restroom. Deva sits close to Shatru and sighs. The night is going to be long.
“It was a mess.” Shatru says in a somber tone.
“It’s been a mess for a long time.” Deva mumbles. The memories are sour for him and he eyes the two Jai imitations across from him, the unwounded one starting to doze off and the wounded one rooted in sorrow. Deva pulls out his own food, a small bag of peanuts he swiped from what Das calls his snack basket.
“We found him.” Shatru wheezes. “Jai killed him.” Deva wants to roll his eyes but stuffs his hand into the bag of peanuts instead.
“Who?” Deva asks, feigning innocence.
“The man who took her from us. You know who.” Shatru hisses. Deva lets out a frustrated sigh and squeezes the peanut packet.
“What about Arjun?” Deva asks in a clipped tone. Shatru gives him a confused expression.
“Arjuna, Bhima, Saha?” Deva clarifies. “They died too. Did he find their killers?” Shatru looks away, his confusion deepening. Deva hums.
“She was important to him. She was different.” Shatru offers weakly, unsure of his own words.
“No. She wasn’t.” Deva sighs. “She was a child who died. It could have been any of them. She was just a reason to stay.” Deva pops another nut into his mouth and chews thoughtfully.
“Is that why you left?” Shatru asks, his face open and honest. Deva shrugs, his head swaying gently at the end.
“I work better alone.” Except, that’s not true. Deva smiles gently as he watches Das work, talking to himself quietly and making very small, very serious sounds. His little bundle of gold. Shatru doesn’t respond and they both remain silent after Kaakha hobbles back in.
They eat and sleep and wait and sleep again. Eventually, Das appears in front of them, wiping the blood from his hands with a medical towel. He looks tired but glowing with accomplishment.
“I think he will live.” Das says.
Lava lets out a sob of relief that startles Kusa awake. They both rush to Jai’s side and conceal themselves behind the curtain. Das explains to Kaakha what Jai will need moving forward, his infection risks, medication, and rest. When he’s finished, Deva gives him soft eyes and a warm touch before Das moves on to Shatru’s back and eventually the painful process of removing Lava’s bullet. When everyone is medicated and resting, a very exhausted Das retreats to the kitchen. Deva follows him quietly. He finds Das at the medical sink, washing his hands and mumbling to himself. Deva can’t help but feel endeared. He wraps his arms around Das gently and hums at the warm embrace. Das makes a happy sound and continues to scrub under his nails. Deva kisses him softly behind the ear and whispers.
“Thank you, my gold medalist.” Deva smiles and Das scoffs, turning in his arms, drying his hands and arms on a towel. Das’s smile softens and then turns down gently.
“Who is Raavan to you?” Das asks slowly. Deva hums and thinks.
“Kaakha worked with Dada. So, Jai and I are cousins?” Deva scoffs, the title not feeling quite right.
“You never come with me to Lanka. They never visit, but you call them family.” Das continues. There is a question there but it is gentle. Deva sighs and looks down.
“I can tell you everything after we sleep, but, I will say, it was an unsafe place in the end, and not for the obvious reasons.” Deva explains with a smirk. Das hums.
“That’s why I am here, with you.” Deva continues and Das looks at him with earnest eyes.
“I make you feel safe?” Das asks softly. Deva takes Das’s hand gently and puts it on his own chest, over his heart.
“You make me feel whole.” Deva whispers.
Das’s eyes go wide and wet, scanning Deva’s face with a shy smile. He eventually wobbles his head in embarrassment and looks away. Deva pushes at a cheek with his hand and pulls their mouths together. It’s a chaste kiss, only a gentle press of tongue and Das sighs into it. They press their foreheads together as they pull apart.
When they return to the main room, Das takes Jai’s vitals again and Deva returns to his seat next to Shatru. He studies Kusa as he snores gently in his chair and Lava as he holds Jai’s hand, watching his chest rise and fall. Jai’s breathing is the only sound in the room until Kaakha straightens and starts to speak.
“We don’t know how safe it will be after this. We all need to lie low, and go into hiding.” Kaakha swallows as they all think. “I can stay in my sister’s village, but you need somewhere far.”
“We lived in Hyderabad. We have no other family to go to.” Lava’s voice is a rasp, exhausted and still in pain. Kusa slumps in his sleep. Shatru clears his throat and looks at them earnestly.
“I know a place.”
One, two, three, four, five, six. Six Dosa’s at a time. One small half cup each of batter and then Cherry circles his wrist over the hot iron to spread each one thin. Sauce and chutney and egg, onions and tomatoes, masala on top and then Cherry mixes before folding. One, two, three, four, five, six. Six dosa’s packed on plates and handed out. Cherry laughs at a regular’s joke and tucks his hair behind his earrings. He yells out when he needs refills of batter or filling and cracks his own jokes with Ravindar as the older man mixes new batter.
Hyderabad is still noisy and alive, their side corner is always bustling with customers, both locals and tourists, delivery men and auto drivers on break, even a few business men and upper caste who’ve heard rumors on the new best dosa in Telangana. Cherry has missed the throngs of people, chit chat with strangers, the comfort of noise and laughter. Men smile at him sometimes, the kind of smile he’s familiar with to know it means more than a greeting or a thank you. Cherry isn’t naive, he returns the smile widely, plops their dosa on their plate and moves to the side, leaving their eyesight and letting other cooks take the line of vision.
It’s been a year since Lanka and Cherry wants nothing to do with men who smile at him. His life is easy and boring now and he wants to keep it that way. It was a month or so after returning to Hyderabad when he met Ravindar. It was an awful night. The memory still feels so fresh. Cherry had spent the first month back drowning in heartache. He was unwashed, exhausted and cold. He had sold the bike and crowns and had a small apartment and food but his heart was hollow. As much as he hated it, as much as it pained him to admit it, he missed Jai. His chest ached to be with him again, to smell him, to hold him, to kiss him again. It took all of his strength not to return to Lanka that night, to buy a train ticket and beg Jai to let him back in. He was so ashamed of the impulse but he still loved Jai, he needed him.
Lost in his sorrow, Cherry wandered the streets that night alone and depressed. He clutched an envelope in his hand and when he saw Ravindar’s food cart he heard a small clicking. The older man was motioning towards him, calling him over gently. The street was nearly empty at that hour but Ravindar’s little lamp and the hissing steam as he cooked, served as a beacon in the darkness. Cherry shuffled over gently and raised his eyebrows at the stranger who called him.
“Hungry? Yes?” The man has asked and plopped a small cup of batter on the iron griddle. It sizzled and its edges faded opaque. Cherry tried to sway his head no, he really had no appetite for any food but the man had insisted.
“No money! Chi! No it’s okay it’s okay!” Ravindar assured Cherry with a big smile and wave of his hands.
Ravindar had rotated his wrist slowly to spread the batter as it cooked, adding toppings and spices and sauces before folding it gently. Cherry had watched transfixed, the man’s hands were withered and bent, knobby with a lifetime of use and wisdom. Cherry had smiled and realized the misunderstanding. Cherry was dirty and gaunt, sad, wandering the street at night in old clothing. He looked like a beggar, he looked hungry, and Ravindar wanted to help. It had nearly cracked Cherry’s heart open.
Cherry had reached for the small styrofoam plate with dosa and chutney as it shook in Ravindar’s grip. He wasn’t hungry but the gesture was so kind that he took a bite. It was the best Dosa of Cherry’s life. He hummed and smiled and the more he ate, the hungrier he realized he was. Eventually the plate was empty and Ravindar smiled warmly at it. They introduced themselves, and talked through the night. Cherry learned that Ravindar has lost his family in a cyclone nearly 20 years before. Cherry was struck even more by his kindness.
“How can you live? Without them?” Cherry had blurted. He knew it was rude but he was desperate to know.
“Hmm. That was another life, different from this one.” Ravindar wiped his rough hands gently on a towel and thought deeply. “We have so many lives. I had one when I was young, like you, and alone, then one with my wife and beautiful children.” Ravindar’s voice cracked and he smiled through wet eyes.
“Now, this life. I am old and the world is not for me anymore. Some men my age get so angry at that, but if it is no longer mine, then I get to give it to you, and watch you love it too. Like I did.” Ravindar had finished the thought with a satisfied nod, assured with his place in life, in the lives he had lived.
Cherry had responded with a sob, putting his hands over his eyes to cry. Ravindar’s face fell and he had hobbled around the cart to get to Cherry quickly, standing in front of him, short and a little round, grabbing at his wrists.
“No, no, no. Too young for so much sadness! So much life left for you.” Ravindar had whispered warmly. He had wiped Cherry’s tears and patted his cheek kindly.
They had kept talking and Cherry did pay for his dosa, against Ravindar’s complaints. Cherry returned to the cart night after night to eat and talk. He did his best to reveal himself, leaving Lanka and Jai vague. Ravindar would offer a warm nod or word of advice and cook between them. Cherry learned about Ravindar’s childhood and his wife and children. It was a balm to Cherry’s healing wounds, the friendship suddenly so important to him. Eventually Cherry would ask to help, to be taught to cook. Ravindar had to decline sheepishly, he had no extra money to hire another and could barely afford to care for himself. So, Cherry bought him a new cart.
Now, they take up the entire corner, with three iron grills and 5 cooks. Cherry, two men and two women run the cart and Ravindar guides the recipes and mixes batter behind them. He calls Cherry My fourth life and Cherry calls him Tata. Cherry likes his life this way, it’s simple and easy and boring. It isn’t full of death and terror and the promise of loss. He still has nightmares sometimes and he still misses Jai but he lets himself cry and he finds comfort in his new family, the happy and easy people he works with. They are kind and funny and all have stories to tell.
The day is nearly over and they clean up to close the corner for the night. Cherry says goodbye as the other cooks wander home and hugs Ravindar goodnight. His walk home is short, still in the same apartment he was a year prior when he found the food cart. He makes his way inside to wash up and relax for dinner. Once he’s eaten, he takes a look at his studio. It has more things now, many more things. He admires the nice bed, the small table next to the attached kitchen with pots and pans and nice plates and bowls. He mounted a little television too and chairs for friends to visit. He even has his own bathroom now, this time with a shower head.
He wanders to his workstation, a wide wooden desk and comfortable chair, covered in supplies and dried plaster. The small lump of clay on display calls to him and he settles in to work. He continues to shape the snout, pushing and prodding with tools and his fingers, his fan blowing gently around the studio and the light music from outside a comfort. It’s late when he’s shaken out of his focus by a rattling knock at his door. It’s playful and gentle and he recognizes it immediately. Cherry bounces through the room to answer and smiles as he hugs Rishi hello. Rishi’s short curls bounce as she laughs, and the piercings in her face and ears glint with the movement.
“You’re early!” Cherry beams and welcomes her in.
“Ah, things didn’t go too well with Ashmina today, so we left before dinner. I think her parent’s are becoming suspicious.” Rishi shrugs and moves around the studio, sitting in a chair opposite Cherry’s workspace.
“This one looks good!” Rishi exclaims, scrunching her nose as she mimics the small clay snout.
“Is Ashmina upset?” Cherry asks, moving to grab Rishi a drink. Rishi sighs and props her chin up on her hand.
“Of course. But, we knew this day would eventually come. We are just scared.” Rishi pushes at a shaping rod on the desk with her finger and tries to smile.
“I sometimes think they would be more accepting if I was a Muslim woman who loved their daughter, rather than a Hindu.” Rishi laughs loudly but it ends sadly. Cherry puts his hand on her shoulder and squeezes.
“Do you want to go out tonight still, we can do whatever you want.” Cherry smiles and pushes his tongue ring through his teeth. Rishi smiles mischievously and pulls out two small bags of palm wine before cackling.
Cherry gets ready quickly, throwing on his pink heart sunglasses and the ratty cheetah print jacket he took from Lanka. He left the nice one for Jai to keep. He looks good in this one. He checks himself in the mirror, pinching his skin and wincing. Suddenly Rishi is behind him with a scowl.
“None of that!” She smacks his arm in protest. “I told you where it comes from! Those British men wanting us to look like them!” Rishi pushes at her own cheeks with her hands. Her skin is even darker than Cherry’s and she admires it. She raises her shoulders and sways her arms out like a deity behind Cherry, giving the mirror the illusion he has many arms. He copies her movements and giggles.
“Dark like Kali remember?” Rishi laughs and sticks out her long tongue, pink and pierced too. Cherry mimics her in the mirror and laughs again.
Suddenly his chest aches and his arms drop. Flashes of sweet and quiet memories filter through his mind. Jai’s lips on his skin, his hands rubbing in warmth and affection, calling him beautiful, calling him a dark God. His face flushes with emotion but he steels himself. Not tonight. Tonight is for Rishi. She’s been so much for you, for so long, you can be strong for her now. Cherry strikes a fancy pose in the mirror and Rishi laughs. She whispers close to his ear and grins.
“Dragvanti is hosting this rainbow night.” Rishi whispers and Cherry gasps.
“DRAGVANTI?!”
The bar is loud and full of life. Rainbow nights don’t happen too often and it’s a cause for celebration, especially when Dragvanti is involved. The queens aren’t dressed as extravagantly as the videos Rishi showed Cherry form the US but they are still beautiful and vibrant. Some dance and lip sync to western pop, some to Masala numbers and even some to more traditional dance like Kuchipudi. Cherry cheers and sips toddy and other sweet cocktails, Rishi hanging behind him with laughter and cheers. A few of her friends have come to, they’ve welcomed Cherry into their group warmly, and while he still feels shy to make so many friends like him, it feels right. Their loud styles and matching personalities, their unapologetic attitudes and the colors of the night life. He belongs here he thinks.
Cherry spends the evening having fun, talking with his new friends, enjoying the music and drinks. He doesn’t go out much but when he does it’s with Rishi and it feels good. She seems to be okay tonight, despite her worries about Ashmina but he can still see the weight she carries on her shoulders. Cherry tries to keep her distracted but eventually lets her talk, or, forces her to. There isn’t much to say, but with a loose tongue it’s easier to say it. She complains and mediates and argues with herself, she’s both angry and deeply protective of the girl she loves and Cherry would be lying if he said the swaying emotions weren’t familiar. He tries to offer advice where he can but even he still feels lost in problems like this. He knows his own difficult love story didn’t work out. Who is he to have any wisdom for her. As though able to read his thoughts, Rishi sighs and turns her attention around.
“You know these feelings?” Rishi asks softly. “You almost never talk about him. I have to get you very drunk for you to even say his name.” Rishi tries to laugh off the statement but Cherry swallows and his face pinches.
He doesn’t talk about Jai. It’s still so painful. It’s also embarrassing. The pain doesn’t come from the cruelty. Deep down, Cherry knew what that was. He won’t let Jai’s pain convince him he didn’t know Jai’s heart. The pain comes from love. It’s still there, strong and vibrant. It aches within him, a deep longing he wants so desperately to be free of. Ravindar had said it will eventually hurt less, that everything else becomes bigger than the pain. He is still waiting for that, Cherry is waiting for a lot of things. Cherry smiles at Rishi and shrugs.
“I know them. I know you and Ashmina have a much better love story than I did. I’m not worried about you two. You just have to trust her.” Cherry offers softly.
Rishi nods and hugs him. It feels good to listen and talk. It feels good to help. Cherry has done his best this year to forget Jai in so many ways. His new friendships, his love and affection for Ravindar. His work at home and the food cart. Still, nothing seems to soften the throb of longing. He is certain it will happen someday, he knows there is more for him than Lanka. But, the nightmares are still violent and dark, not just his parents anymore but dying men and lifeless eyes, the crunch of bone under rock. Cherry has tried so many things. Meditation and yoga, new hobbies and dozens of distractions, even other people.
The first person was a man at Cherry’s first Rainbow night. He was just drunk enough to be bold and the man was so attractive. It went so well at first, the alcohol doing nothing to stop his body’s response. It felt so familiar, so good. He had wanted it so badly, touch, kissing, a warm body on top of his. Then suddenly it was too familiar. Suddenly, it was Jai’s hands and lips and eyes and Cherry pushed the man away crying. Then he tried a woman, he had hoped it would make things easier but it was even harder. He realized that night women are different. He isn’t so sure he likes them as much as he thought. Eventually he would have good sex. Another man, a stranger, one he never saw again. It was a reminder Jai can’t keep all of him. He can find something good after all of this. Still, it doesn’t quiet soften the ache just yet.
Cherry returns to the moment from his memories and the music beats loud, the colorful lights swirling around his vision. The universe had heard his troubled thoughts and laughed, showing him a familiar face in the crowd. The familiar face sees him too and smiles wildly, calling out.
“Little beetle!” The large man roars, his dark skin almost blue under the bar’s neon lighting. His nose ring still rattles when he laughs and Cherry smiles sheepishly at the old nickname.
Cherry is unsure if he should engage, not having seen anyone from Lanka for so long, afraid of who might be with him. But, the happy man looks alone and he was always so kind and warm, complimenting Cherry’s fighting with Sekhar that first night in Lanka. Cherry shakes off his anxiety and moves to say hello.
“Do you know him!? Beetle?!” Rishi laughs and Cherry smiles.
“I’m just going to say hi!” Cherry yells over the music and walks away.
“Munna!” Cherry yells out and hugs the round man quickly. Munna laughs and squeezes Cherry tightly, lifting him off the floor with a growl. Cherry makes a high sound and wiggles.
“Look at you! This hair!” Munna laughs again and pulls gently at a strand of Cherry’s longer hair, now almost past his shoulders. Cherry laughs and flips it playfully. It’s getting long and he knows he should cut it but he likes it longer and is being stubborn. They talk for a few moments about the bar and their lives. Munna mentions new work and Cherry furrows his brows in confusion.
“You left Lanka?” Cherry nearly whispers the last part, unsure if he should mention it so casually. It’s Munna’s turn to look confused, he tilts his head and smiles awkwardly.
“Why would I stay?” He laughs and Cherry tilts his head, still not understanding. Munna’s expression suddenly falls, realization hitting, his shoulders drawing up and worry coloring his features.
“Y-you…don’t know?” Munna’s voice is soft and it scares Cherry.
“Know what?!” Cherry blurts, his eyes wide.
Cherry can’t breathe. He hears the words but they don’t go into him. They don’t make sense. They can’t be real. His knees buckle and he feels Rishi at his side, Munna’s hand on his back. The world is a blur and he can’t breathe. The lights are too bright and the music is too loud and he suddenly feels the cold air outside, the wind on his face. Cherry’s face is wet? He’s crying. He can hear himself making noise and Rishi’s panicked voice and then nothing.
When Cherry wakes, Rishi is wrapped around him in bed. They are in his studio and the sun is just starting to rise. Cherry feels a moment of warmth before the memories from last night come rushing through him. He cries out and jolts up.
Jai is dead.
Munna had said it so simply, so quietly. The words are seared into Cherry’s heart and he scrambles from the bed as Rishi wakes and begs him to slow down.
“You kept calling for him? Is it him? J-Jai?” Rishi pleads. Cherry gets dressed wildly and stuffs his wallet into his jeans, looking for his keys and phone.
“I-I don’t know. I don’t know.” Cherry apologizes to Rishi and thanks her for getting him home.
He rushes her out the door and runs off. She calls to him, begging for him to explain, genuinely worried. He feels terrible for leaving her but he can’t wait a moment. He needs to know, needs to see it for himself. Cherry takes an auto straight to the train station and buys a ticket for Berhampur. His body feels empty, trembling periodically, afraid of what he will find. Jai can’t be dead, Jai can’t die. A part of him screams he’s too late, he buried the desire long ago but it still tells him eventually he would have found Jai again. You were going to find him again. You were going to fix this. You were going to love him again and you took too long and now he’s dead.
Cherry tries to sleep on the train but wakes at every stop, jolted into a new wave of terror. He rubs at his face and scratches at his scalp. Jai can’t be dead. Jai can’t die. Would he had felt it if Jai had died? Would his heart had shattered and flown out in pieces to sink into the earth? Would he of died too? Is he doing it now? Cherry thinks he would have felt it. Cherry wipes at the tears that fall every few hours and the 20 hour train ride passes like a nightmare. He sleeps at the Berhampur station for a few hours, knowing there won’t be any autos out this early and has to wait for the sun.
When it’s finally late enough, Cherry races from the train to an auto and begs the driver to get him to the haveli as fast as he can. He want’s to beat the man for refusing to speed. The wait is torture, Cherry can smell the sea and starts to panic. Should he be here? Should he have come back? What if Jai is fine and it was all just a lie? Did he tell his men to tell Cherry he had died, to never come back? Cherry swallows as he sees Lanka come into view and nearly jumps out of the auto to run towards it.
Cherry decides he doesn’t care. He will humiliate himself and drop to his knees and beg Jai to see him, beg Jai to love him again. The auto stops near the entrance and Cherry pays him before bolting onto the drive-in road. The gates are open and a single small white car stands parked near the front. It’s trunk and back doors are propped open and the two large doors of the haveli are pulled open like spread wings. Otherwise, Lanka looks desolate and empty. Cherry’s heart races, he wants to collapse, he sees the large For Sale sign hammered into the lawn and nearly wails. He pulls at his hair and cries. As he moves nearer, a round figure makes it way out of the building, carrying two large boxes and huffing his way down the stairs.
Kaakha.
Cherry yells out and Kaakha startles, nearly dropping his load and almost tripping down the stairs. Kaakha’s wide eyes find Cherry and then he deflates, sighing as he continues to his little car. He stuffs his boxes into the auto as Cherry runs to him panicked.
“Where is he!? What happened!?” Cherry pleads. Kaakha sighs again and looks sad.
“You had to come on the last day. On the last day in the entire year I waited. The last day I would be here.” Kaakha sighs. He considers Cherry for a moment then reaches deep into his car, rifling through a box before pulling out a small envelope.
“You look awful.” Kaakha mumbles then hands him the envelope gently. “He asked that you have this if you ever come back.”
Cherry rips open the paper and a small key falls out. Kaakha continues.
“Do you remember the lockers at the train station in Berhampur?” He asks. Cherry just gapes at him. He does remember them, he just saw them.
“He left something for you.” Kaakha finishes. Cherry sees the locker tag attached to the key in his palm.
“Please. Is he alive? Please.” Cherry begs. Kaakha’s eyes go wet suddenly and he moves away from Cherry.
“Life or death, love or revenge. You were good for him, I think.” Kaakha wipes at his face and shoves himself into the car. He drives away, the auto rattling and smoking, before Cherry can beg him to stop.
The train station is busier when he returns. Fathers calling for their children, shoes and laughter and rattling keys. Cherry stares at the locker. 302. The number on the key Jai left for him. Cherry feels cold now, the sudden pain and fear settling into shock. Is he dead? Jai can’t die. Is it money? Would Jai be so crass? Cherry stands in front of the locker starring, until suddenly the key slips into the lock and he turns it. What he finds inside is thin and small, another envelope, but this one bigger.
Cherry pulls it out gently and opens the flap with care. He pulls out two slips that feel like card-stock. The slip on top is a photograph, old and faded, folded over with creases. Cherry’s face crumples as he recognizes the three faces looking up at him. Amma & Nanna, his parents and himself, very small and very happy. Cherry sobs at the image and clutches it tightly, the memory of that day creeping in. His fingers trace their faces. He didn’t forget them, they look exactly the same in his dreams. When he wipes at his face and shudders he looks at the second slip, a postcard, something bright from a small village with a painting of a sparkling river and a sandy beach, the village name in bright bold orange and yellow written over a blue sky. It has no postage when he turns it, but in the letterbox is Jai’s looped handwriting.
“Into the forest. I will find you again.”
A thousand loving memories in those words. Cherry’s heart drowns in them. He sobs again, clutching both slips to his chest and pressing his forehead to the cold metal of the locker. He cries and shudders and takes in a gulping breath. He looks at his gifts again and then wanders to the departure board, scanning the trains times and destinations. He sees Hyderabad, a train in 15 minutes and then another, going in a different direction. He needs to go home, to take these gifts as closure, a great love he had and the good memories of the parents he lost. Cherry sees Rishi and Ravindar and the potential of new love in the many new people he plans to meet. He thinks of his studio, and all the good work he has done, the money he is saving in his bank account to buy Ravindar a restaurant. He has plans, he has a life, he knows who he is.
Cherry reads the words again and suddenly Jai is behind him. A ghost, a kiss on his neck, his smell, and a sudden quiet memory. Cherry waking in bed first, the room so dark but warm, so close to Jai, their hands folded together between them. Jai looked afraid in his sleep, his brows pinched and his mouth turned in a frown. Cherry had put his palm to Jai’s cheek and his face had softened. Then his name, in a whisper.
“Cherry.” Jai had breathed it, like it was a balm. Cherry had known then. They were real, their love was real. It was something old and untouchable and they had been made to find each other.
“Into the forest. I will find you again.”
Cherry turns suddenly and walks to the ticket booth. The woman behind the glass pays no mind to him and focuses on the paperwork in front of her.
“One way ticket.” Cherry yells into the mesh hole. The woman sigs and speaks into the small metal microphone.
“Destination?” She drawls. Cherry looks to the postcard, then back to the departure board. He swallows and makes a decision.
“Rangasthalam.”
I N T E R M I S S I O N
Chapter 16: Jñāpakālu
Summary:
The brothers finally start to work on stitching up their wounds.
Chapter Text
The bright sun shines down on Rangasthalam as though Indra himself watches over the small village. The rippling waters of the Godavari glitter like precious stones against soft, sandy banks. The warm rays illuminate the corn fields as though each husk carries pebbles of gold. Still, amongst all the happy sunshine, deep shadows cut the underbrush.
A hunter stalks it's prey there, weaving through tall crops and dry fields. Whipping reeds and sweltering heat weighs heavy on his pursuit. The weedy plains are ripe with concealed enemies, hidden under crackling straw and the distracting buzz of insects. The hunter is quick and quiet, sleek like a predator, ready to strike his prey at any-
"Ahh!" Chitti yelps as he trips over hidden driftwood and lands on his face. His hair bounces against the collision and he grumbles before shooting back to his feet.
This snake can't be far now. Chitti wipes at dirt and grass sticking to his beard. He huffs and pushes through the field. A black cobra, 3 feet, a scar on it’s belly from a fight with a mongoose. Chitti has been bitten before, he survived to continue the hunt, but uncovers only shed skin and hissing laughter echoing against the grass. The day is a loss, he finds only a glinting silver watch, a distraction from his slithering enemy. He vows to try again soon, the serpent can’t hide from him forever.
Chitti Babu is an Engineer. Most people, in any village, would look to the sky when their crops need to water. The people of Rangasthalam look to Chitti. His water engine, strong and reliable, waters crop fields from those glittering waters of the river. However, Chitti will say, his engine is broken. His sound engine, he calls it.
“Chitti Babu! You haven’t watered my fields yet!” They will yell. “Chitti! You only watered half!” They will shout.
Chitti tells them to speak normally! Lower their voices! He will get to the unwatered field tomorrow. He only waters a field halfway when payment is only half. It won’t go any faster if they yell!
Chitti can hear some words but some words are seen. He prefers to see them most days, but for some people he doesn’t mind their loud voices. Rangamma speaks loudly to everyone, not just Chitti. You can hear her across the village if you listen for her! She is around Chitti’s age, a bit older, beautiful and strong. Her voice is loud but her heart is soft. She owns the water engine Chitti uses and will help anyone in the village who comes for it.
Rangamma is alone, waiting on her husband who is working in Dubai, waiting for his return to finally become a mother. Chitti likes to keep her company. He brings her the watch to sell today and bothers her with his eagerness and wild energy. She smiles playfully at him and snatches the watch away to study it.
“I give you this and you give me 100!” Chitti beams and plops down on her porch steps to rest.
Rangamma hands over the money and grabs for the watch, her face scrunching as she studies it. She returns it quickly, snapping it to chitti’s wrist as he watches her, confused.
“It looks good for you.” She states and turns away.
Chitti tries to return her money but she waves him off, letting him keep both as gifts. Chitti giggles at her stoic kindness and calls after her with endearments. Rangasthalam is full of people like Rangamma, bright and kind, difficult and quiet. Small villages are like that, and despite his rattling sound engine, Chitti feels at home here. His village is a good place, and everyone in it is special and known to Chitti. Well, he used to know everyone.
Rangasthalam is growing, and recently, some new neighbors have moved in. The home they moved into was empty for years. They were brought here by Kasi’s distant brother. They are a small family, only 3 of them. No wives and no children. Chitti has tried to spot them, his curiosity peaked further at their reluctance to be seen. It has only been a few weeks but, still they stay cooped up in that small house and all of Rangasthalam is buzzing with rumors.
Well, the youngest does come out. The wild haired thief runs through the village causing mischief and spreading strange lies about the silliest things! Chitti will continue to watch their quiet little house, but he is going to keep a close eye on this rascal Kusa.
Jai grips the edge of the porcelain sink so tightly his knuckles turn white. His fist shakes as he uses it for leverage and moves slowly through the small bathroom. Each footstep is a stretch on his sutures and a new searing pain all over his torso. Jai's heavy breathing is the only sound in the room as Lava stands quietly behind him, watching him like a worried mother who is afraid to coddle.
Jai makes it, with great effort, to the short western toilet, an ugly pastel green and probably unwashed. It creaks with Jai's sudden weight and he shudders through the throbbing pain in his wounds. Jai won't look at Lava. It isn't the blatant nudity, or Lava's flat expression, but the pain. Jai is an exposed nerve here and Lava insists he bare witness.
Jai grunts as he moves to tuck his soft cock back between his legs, to ensure he doesn't make a mess. Finally in a good position, Jai lets himself piss, his calves shaking from the exertion. Lava finally makes a noise, a small hum of approval. Jai nearly sweats from how hard the simple task was and rests his head in his hand, unwilling to look at his younger brother.
When Jai finishes, he does his best to wipe and flushes the toilet behind him. Suddenly Lava moves in front of him and Jai sways. Lava's hands come out to make an offering. One hand holds a brass tin of water and the other uncurls from a fist to reveal two long oval pills. Jai's eyes squeeze closed and he moves to protest, but Lava is quick.
"Swallow both of them. I'll stay with you." Lava says the last part softly, a promise.
Jai sighs and eyes the opiates. He hates how they make him feel. It isn't the fuzziness or the impairment, it's the vulnerability, the exposure. He will need help if he takes them. He will need someone to care for him. Jai's throat goes tight as he remembers a soft hand on his belly, tired and terrified eyes in his sick bed in Lanka. His chest aches and he shudders. He knows he shouldn't push those feelings away but it's too much right now, he is too weak for it.
Jai's eyes roll up to finally look at Lava's expression. Lava has deep grooves under his eyes, messy hair, and crumpled clothing, but all with absolute conviction. He has watched over Jai for almost two weeks now. He isn't going anywhere.
Jai knows the impulse to run, to bear the pain, to try and control any perceived weakness, is what almost destroyed everything he's ever cared about. All that he has lost, his brothers in Lanka, Kaakha, even Mounisha, they speak to him now, giving warnings. He won't even think Cherry's name. His heart is too fragile. That impulse was wrong then and it is wrong now. He needs to trust that perhaps Lava's isn't.
Jai grabs weakly for the pills, popping them both to the back of his throat. He swallows the cool water quickly and sarcastically shows Lava his empty tongue before handing back the cup. Lava smiles at the gesture and reaches his hands under Jai's armpits to clutch his back. They lift Jai's weight together and when Jai is standing, he realizes he is being held.
Lava's hands grip Jai tightly, squeezing him the way siblings do when they don't have the words for how much they love each other. Jai sighs into it, still feeling unease at being touched, at being loved by family. Regardless, he endures it, knowing that pulling away isn't the right thing to do anymore.
Jai rests his cheek on Lava's shoulder and grunts. Lava rubs at Jai's back and tries to laugh but it comes out sad. His cheeks are ruddy when he pulls back and he sniffs away small tears. Jai can only clear his throat, his own nudity making him feel awkward. Lava only nods with a sweet smile, then helps Jai wobble back to his sick bed.
It's been two weeks and still, clothing is too much of a hassle. Jai would only need to keep redressing and undressing. It's easier this way, and Lava doesn't show discomfort or judgement. There is only one instance of hesitation, Jai's scars. Bullet wounds, cuts from knives, the burned flesh at his left elbow, and the smattering of scraps and dents from fist fights. Scars from pins and sutures and haphazard stitches and staples scare Lava the most.
Jai almost forgets them now, they fade from his focus, his twisted body another punishment he's earned. It's here, after all this time, he realizes he never saw Lava's expression on Cherry's face. The thought is an ache, one he keeps covering, muffled pain behind the louder wounds struggling to heal. Jai takes his medicine, clenches his teeth through bandage changes and sleeps. He wakes only long enough for bathing and soft foods. Lava watches him. Lava stays close. Lava never leaves.
The first few days were a blur of pain and sorrow. Jai remembers only small disjointed moments. Lava's cool hand on his forehead, soft tears, whispers and prayers. Jai's fever lied to him, showing him Cherry's worried expression and comforting hands. He dreamed too, Cherry in his arms, Cherry crying, Cherry curled on the floor of Lanka, clutching his porcelain Chirutha. Jai warbled and begged and cried for Cherry to come home, to return to the grooves. Lava did his best, hands on Jai’s fevered skin, assuring Jai that Cherry is coming, Cherry will be here soon. The lucidity that finally came was excruciating. Cherry isn't coming.
It’s nearly 6 months since Jai discovered his brothers were alive and two weeks since coming to Rangasthalam. Two weeks. This new house, this new village, it still feels alien to Jai. He's stuck in this room, in this bed, his skin bare and raw, his wounds tender. Lava cares for him here but Kusa stays out, wandering the village and market, anything to keep him away from his dying brother. Jai isn't dying, but the frailty frightens Kusa, he can't watch how slow everything heals. Jai understands. It will be complicated for a while. He needs the wounds to close first, he needs to stay alive. Then he can stitch at the wound he and Kusa share. Shatru is with his mother and brothers, and the rest of Rangasthlam mummers about their return with new neighbors.
Then suddenly, Jai isn’t as frail, he doesn’t struggle as much and he is healing quicker. Jai is eating more and his wounds don’t soak their bandages. It's here, when he feels strong enough, that he lets Kaakha leave. His mentor has stayed long enough to see Jai's vitals return to normal and his fever break, to ensure the risk of infection has passed, to help Lava through the worst of it.
Now Kaakha sits next to Jai on the floor, a hand on Jai's chest as he rests, both of them willing the other to say goodbye and both resigned to the silence. Kaakha’s mouth keeps gaping, searching for difficult words, lowering his eyes to Jai’s frail form and sniffing away the tears that threaten to fall.
“I- I am sorry.” Kaakha finally whispers. “The mistakes I made.”
Kaakha’s voice whittles thin, an expression of shame passing over his features.
“I had nothing else to give you. You deserved- After Indira I-“ Kaakha sobs, his face crumpling in regret.
Jai opens his mouth to respond but his throat tightens and he winces as a wave of pain flushes through his temple. Kaakha’s hand clutches the blanket covering Jai’s chest and pulls in a plea.
“You have to know that I- that I-” Kaakha’s voice sounds desperate now, revealing a panic in the way his eyes shift. Jai’s own hand covers Kaakha’s tight one, soothing the trembling fingers, swallowing over rigid vocal chords.
“I know Nanna.” Jai rasps, his eyes wide and full of forgiveness. Kaakha sobs again. The tears feel warmer this time. They bring relief.
They say nothing else. Understanding floats up into the silence of the room and Jai lets it soothe him. Kaakha smiles fondly and presses a kiss to Jai’s temple. Jai feels a tear on his skin and accepts it for the blessing it is. Kaakha keeps his hand at the crown of Jai’s head, petting and stroking to comfort him. He waits until Jai drifts to sleep before moving quietly to leave.
When Jai wakes, hours later, the light is soft and low in his room. He feels clean, his medicine is still working and he can hear Lava cooking in the kitchen. Kusa’s light laugher punches through every few moments but the house feels soft. In this room, his brothers holding guard outside the door, he feels safe.
Everything is very timid at first. There is a sense of unfamiliarity between them. Lava encourages everything, he pushes and prods gently that they come to understand each other better. It starts with stories, the lives that have shaped who they have become. Jai keeps things simple, a few of his triumphs, some of the more difficult loses. He tries not to expand too much on Tapan and Sekhar, and he refuses to even speak Mounisha’s name. Not yet, he tells himself.
Kusa is flippant. He glosses over how difficult the time he spent in prison was. Jai can feel the pain that radiates off of him when he mentions it but he won’t indulge, and Jai won’t push. Lava seems nearly oblivious, which only makes sense as he talks on his happy childhood with his adoptive father. Jai tries not to be angry about it, they were only children, but he and Kusa pass a look between them, an understanding that there is a part of them Lava may never understand.
Then comes the more difficult stories, the memories they share, when they were young. Lava tries to bring up their mother but a cold air hoovers above them when he does. Jai isn’t afraid to speak on her but he is protective of her memory. She was the only one to show him any kindness. To hear them talk about her with the same love and affection he had for her feels wrong. He knows he should think better things, that this kind of feeling is what lead him to such a dark place, but he’s lost on how to change them.
He decides to push into it.
It’s a quiet night and Jai has healed enough to walk on his own. He hobbles into the kitchen to sit with his brother’s for dinner. Kusa will rarely join them but tonight he seems hungry. Jai isn’t quite sure where he goes everyday but he keeps busy and he’s heard the name of a new friend whispered, thrown out vaguely. Chitti. Jai archives the way Kusa’s eyes soften at the name. Lava stays inside most days, mothering Jai and trying to make the new house a home.
“Is this the curry Amma used to make? Did you get her recipe!?” Kusa exclaims through mouthfuls of rice and eggplant, interrupting Jai’s thoughts. Lava only sways his head gently.
“I did my best to narrow it down. Sometimes I still think it’s missing something.” Lava says quietly, more to himself. Jai pauses in his eating, eyeing the rice near his mouth.
“It’s too white.” Jai mumbles. Lava’s ears perk and he turns swiftly to his older brother, used to Jai’s more quiet presence at dinner.
“She cooked the rice in half br-broth.” Jai grins to himself. “It wasn’t a veg dish, she ju-just couldn’t afford chicken. The broth gave it a yellow tint.”
Jai finishes by sticking the rice in his mouth and humming. The curry is Amma’s though, perfect. When he turns to Lava, he watches his younger brother study the rice with fondness. Jai feels a moment of panic rush through him. Lava has a way with being so open to new feelings, it can be too much for Jai. Kusa breaks the tension with a laugh and a shrug before shoveling more food into his mouth.
“I used to wish I could ask her.” Lava says quietly. “Not just about food. There was so much we didn’t get to ask.”
Jai won’t look at Lava, the feelings are so big and he wants to draw inward. He resists the urge. He can feel how small Lava is right now, how desperate he is for this kind of connection, how badly he wants Jai to respond.
“Ask what?” Jai grits the question through his teeth. Not out of anger, but because the words fight to stay behind them. Lava seems to startle, not expecting Jai to push the conversation. He smiles sadly, letting himself wonder.
“Who she really was. The things she loved or wanted for herself. Her parents? Her siblings? Was there only Mama?” Lava pauses at the mention of their uncle, knowing how sore of a subject that will be for Jai.
“We don’t even know who our father is.” Lava finally whispers. Kusa freezes, his shoulders hunched to his ears, hating this conversation.
Jai pushes further, he’s gone this far, this story isn’t just his anymore, they both deserve to know. He puts his dish of food down, washes his hands in the water tin and uses his tongue to clear his mouth of food before speaking.
“I know.” Jai rasps and both his brother’s heads shoot up to hear more. Jai takes a shaky breath.
“She was fifteen when we were born.” Jai swallows and watches as two pairs of transfixed eyes watch him, almost pleading for the story to be happy, for it to bring them relief. Jai will disappoint them.
“Our-“ Jai pauses, upset at having to use the next word to describe the man she loved. “-father was older. Over thirty I think. He convinced her to run away with him and elope. She did and her family disowned her.”
The two pairs of eyes go sad, Kusa looks confused.
“Naresh, our father, abandoned her when we were a few years old. Balarama, her eldest brother, risked his place in the family and allowed her to travel with his stage show.”
Lava gapes, opening his mouth like a fish but closing it again to let the words sink in.
“How do you know?” Lava bites, his voice on edge and almost accusatory. He shakes the rice off his fingers and frowns.
“Balarama lived in Odisha after the fire and found out I was alive a few years ago. He started writing me letters. I think he wanted fo-forgiveness, but didn’t know how to ask for it. So he wrote me her story.” Jai leaves out the rage and sorrow he felt over those letters, how he refused to respond to them, how he burned them.
“Where is he now?” Lava whispers “Our father?” Jai lets out a rough breath and frowns.
“Married. With five children.” Jai’s voice is flat. The memories of that report from Tapan, too painful to dwell on. Lava looks sad. Kusa looks angry.
“How did she die?” Kusa grits. “Mama never told us what made her sick.”
Jai’s chest flutters. He had hoped to leave this part of her story out. He doesn’t want to hurt them but it feels wrong to lie, it would feel like he was ashamed of her.
“After Naresh left, Amma was alone, with three young children and no family. She couldn’t find work.” Jai swallows, trying to avoid the inevitable.
“The tall building we used to live in, with the colored glass windows. Do you remember?” Jai asks. Lava and Kusa sway their heads slowly.
“It was a brothel.” Jai tries to say it kindly. Kusa scoffs, as though the joke isn’t funny. Lava’s face twists but he’s quiet.
“You’re a fucking liar.” Kusa hisses, his eyes welling with tears.
“She contracted HIV and lived with it-“
“A FUCKING LIAR!” Kusa yells, struggling to stand with shaking arms. Lava reaches for him, not having the words to calm him but wanting to do something.
“Medicine was hard to find, traveling down the co-co-coast. She didn’t get what she needed. Balarama didn’t get her what she needed.” Jai’s voice turns angry and he clenches his fists. Kusa’s body shakes, sadness and rage clashing within him.
“She would never! She wasn’t that kind of woman!” Kusa shouts, tears now falling down his cheeks. Lava calls for him, his own voice sad and small. Jai breaks, he stands tall and wide, they are reminded suddenly that he is the eldest and they shrink for a moment under his shadow.
“She did what any good mother would do!” Jai shouts. “To feed her starving children! To ensure they can sleep at night and stay warm! Anything.” Jai says the last word in a growl. Kusa is still angry but he keeps his mouth shut. Jai tries to deflate, he doesn’t want it to be like this between them, he doesn’t want to make Kusa cry.
“I honor the sacrifice she made for us. I am grateful of what sh-she was willing to do. I am proud that she was my mother.” Jai says the words with love, pleading with Kusa to understand, to let this part of her live alongside the golden shrine left by her death. Kusa lets out a long breath and tries to look less wild, less upset.
“I have something.” Jai says awkwardly and leaves abruptly to his room.
When he returns he carries a small envelope. It looks old and faded. He holds it out for Kusa who hesitates to take it. Lava swallows and grabs at it eagerly. When Lava opens it his face crumples again but he smiles through it.
“Balarama sent it.” Jai rasps.
The photograph is old and yellowed, originally black and white. Their mother is beautiful in flowers and fine fabric, smiling demurely at the camera. Jai isn’t used to seeing the photo regularly, keeping it locked away for safe keeping. He admires her beauty, her grace, the soft expression hiding all that she struggled with. Lava looks back up at Jai and smiles wetly.
“She was so beautiful.” Lava laughs and clutches the photo. Kusa only smiles and lets the anger wash out of him.
“I think I look like her most.” Kusa affirms softly. Lava laughs.
“Kusa we are identical.” Lava wipes at his cheeks and Kusa only shrugs, unconvinced.
“Can I take this for a few days?” Lava asks Jai, his eyes bright and happy. “I can make copies for us. We can frame it and hang it with a garland.”
Jai clears his throat and agrees, a small flush of shame at the fact that he had never done that in Lanka. He knows it was either to avoid the pain he would feel at seeing her everyday, or to prevent enshrining her in the tomb he built for Mounisha.
Lava carefully puts the photo away, to keep it safe, and makes them both sit back down to finish eating. The conversation opens up easily now, remembering moments when they were young, the kind and loving memories with their mother. Jai can feel Kusa soften to him and basks in the sunny glow that Lava radiates. He is glad he told them, he is glad Lava has the photograph now. This home is a good place for her to rest.
It’s been a few months and the relationships starts to settle. Jai’s brothers seem less like strangers and more like family as each day passes. Jai still keeps some things from them, the darker things of his past, the more painful events that built up Raavan inside of him. He isn’t sure it would do any good for them to know those things. He is afraid of how they will react.
As he heals, Jai finds ways to keep busy. He keeps in contact with Kaakha to dismantle the organization, to liquidate any assets, to sell the property. Jai procrastinates on the last bit, turning down offers and pulling the Haveli form the market multiple times only to re-list it. He finds his men new work, he hates to let Munna go but he won’t need a bodyguard in a small village.
Jai focuses instead on the new home, furnishings, repairs, and painting. Lava and Jai take the two bedrooms and Kusa insists on the main living space, saying he prefers to pull his cot outside to sleep and the two rooms are upstairs. It makes sense to Jai, Kusa is barely ever home and clearly prefers to live light. Jai indulges in his room. It doesn’t look like the one in Lanka, intentionally not as lavish or dark. He designs it for comfort and quiet and he watches Lava do the same with his own space.
Jai watches his brothers quite closely. When Lava returns with the photographs of their mother, already framed neatly, he mentions meeting a man at the print shop. A very tall and polite man ordering prints for something political. Lava wonders out loud if they should all be more involved more in the social and political happenings of their village. Jai only grunts and Kusa dismisses the idea with a laugh. Jai doesn’t miss the small glint that flashes in his eye when Lava repeats how polite and kind this man was. Jai recognizes that glint.
Kusa is secretive and erratic. Jai watches him come in and out of the house at all hours of the day and night. He will often bring random things he’s found in the village and Jai will reprimand him, reminding him they need to keep their heads down and not cause trouble. Kusa promises it’s things nobody will miss, but Jai is unconvinced when it starts to be strange things like batteries and milk.
Then the friend is mentioned again. Chitti. The moments is familiar, something strange in Kusa’s voice as he rapidly details the way they spend their time together. It’s the soft sigh Lava gives when he talks about the polite tall man they now know is named Kumar. Then, the discovery that both of these two men are brothers, pushes Jai’s suspicions even further.
Jai had heard that shared sexual identities among identical siblings is common, but he had watched as both Lava and Kusa loved Priya and Simran. The situation could be similar to his own infatuation with Simran, rooted in a non-loving attempt at control, but this feels different. Jai’s confusion deepens when he remembers how Lava and Kusa both dropped their affections once the women gave the ultimatum to choose them or their Demon brother. Jai’s chest warms at how quickly they decided.
“We love our Demon brother.” Lava had hissed, hoping to keep his voice low on the phone, over Jai’s fever. Kusa had crowded the corded receiver and babbled about loyalty and siblings and hung up the phone for Lava with a clang.
Jai decides not to meddle, and let his brothers find their own way. Still, the budding affections, friendly or romantic, can be painful for him to watch. He hates to admit it to himself, and he isn’t sure he is capable to admit it to anyone else, but he is lonely. He misses Cherry. The name in his mind is still an ache, like a jolt of stinging electricity from a split wire. He knows he can’t avoid the topic forever, this new life, this new way of feeling things, will eventually have to apply to all his mistakes, not just his wounds.
He dreams of Cherry, excessively, every night sometimes. Cherry’s voice in his ear like a taunting melody. It speaks softly or whispers, it says I love you Jai, I love you. It wobbles when he cries out, breathes and pants like when they made love, it makes that high ridiculous laugh that would punch out of him in pure delight at how funny Jai is.
Sometimes it’s memories. Cherry with his tongue poking out, deeply concentrating on his cleaning. The image he’s never really seen but knows, Cherry chasing beetles with Shatru. Cherry saying things about the world that make Jai stop and think about himself, about who he is. Cherry begging Jai not to break his Chirutha. Cherry’s crumpled small body on the floor of Lanka, broken, alone, in love and turned away.
Jai will wake distraught when it’s those dreams, crying and muffling his wails into his bedding. Clutching anything he can reach to try and hold a Cherry who isn’t there, to suffocate himself with the agony of his mistakes. His body trembles and his knuckles clench white. He’s desperate to find him. Is he alive? Is he safe? He wants to call old friends who can find people, he wants to see if Cherry’s phone number still works. He resists.
Cherry deserves a life without him, or deserves to make the choice of a reunion for himself. He compromises and leaves a window open, giving Kaakha the postcard and photo. Jai wonders to himself how many more photographs of dead mothers he will deliver in his lifetime. Still, Jai is lonely. Jai misses Cherry. Jai is convinced he will never love anyone like he did Cherry. He will never love anyone again who isn’t his brothers.
Some days are even harder. Some days Jai’s body is so heavy it can’t be lifted. Some days, Jai lies down and his heart sinks to the back of his chest, splitting on the points of his spine. Lava can see it. He knows Lava can see it no matter how hard he tries to hide it. Jai even struggles with the simpler things, washing and eating. He keeps on task with the house but he is so tired and ashamed.
Eventually it shows on his body. His hair starts to grow out and he stops shaping his beard and mustache. Kusa says he can’t tell much of a difference but Jai can see how his curls are fighting under the old silk press. The straight strands feel like the loose threads of his old identity, like Raavan clinging on, desperate to remain a part of him. So, Jai takes scissors and an electric razor and cuts it all off. Only the small new curls remain, wispy flat fluff, compacted but weak and unsure.
It doesn’t change him or relieves the pain but it feels like the beginning of a new path, the first step he needs to be willing to take. Kusa laughs and makes a joke, Lava reprimands him and complements the clean cut of it. Jai is fairly neutral to their reactions, it wasn’t for them. Still, the pain and weight of Cherry’s absence remains. Jai feels lost on what he can do to find relief when suddenly a moment lends itself.
Jai and lava are eating alone. Kusa has made himself scarce again, probably out with Chitti or at the Chelluboina’s to eat all of their food. Jai enjoys the calming silence. Today has been an easier day than most, no dreams and no heavy heart. It's been months and the pain is fading. His curls and beard are growing and he finds comfort in the wild distractions of their small village.
With Kusa taking odd jobs at Chitti's insistence, Lava is left to pursue his own desires. Taxes. Well, the high interest rates of localized loans. This new man he spends time with, Chitti's older brother, is involved in some sort of loose investigation to help a few families who are struggling. Lava says he's sure their outstanding debt is only a clerical error but Lava can be naive.
Lava talks more about Kumar than the economical mishap. The more time that passes, the more Jai realizes how much farther than friendship Lava's admiration goes. He wonders on Lava's previous misfortunes with love and feels guilty.
"I am sorry about Priya." Jai blurts into the silence. Lava nearly chokes on his Maggi.
"Oh. Thank you." Lava says it awkwardly, like he had forgotten about her. Jai can't say he is surprised.
"I had no interest in her or Simran. Not like that." Jai finishes lamely, not quite sure what he's trying to say. Lava only tilts his head, not fully understanding. Jai clears his throat and taps at his neck.
"I've only ever loved men like that." Jai rasps, unsure why he words it so strangely, perhaps afraid Lava won’t understand. Lava's eyes widen and Jai panics for a moment, only to deflate as Lava smiles.
"I know." Lava whispers and turns back to his food. Jai's eyes stretch and he watches Lava closely, not sure how to take that answer.
"Can you tell me about him?" Lava asks gently, after taking another bite. "About Cherry?"
Jai visibly recoils from the name, a wash of panic and sorrow flushing over his features. Lava recognizes it immediately and tries to pull back.
"I'm sorry. You kept asking for him. I thought-“ Lava stops, watching Jai’s face twist and look away.
They both return their eyes to their food and Jai tries to restrain the emotions that want to fly out of him. A flash of memories overwhelm him. The nightmares and pleas and blood and love. He is so frustrated with how easily his heart and mind will betray him. Today was a good day, the feelings kept themself small today and he was relieved to have a break.
Lava looks guilty and Jai knows this moment is important. Raavan wants to keep big feelings small. Raavan wants to run from this and find a way to bury all of it. Jai takes a deep breath and lets it rattle in his lungs, he washes his hands of rice and Maggi and pulls his wallet from a fold in his lungi. Lava only watches from his peripheral, pretending to eat, as Jai pulls a small slip from a tight insert.
Jai hands out the slip slowly towards Lava and swallows nervously. Lava takes it with a small smile and unfolds it to reveal a small photo. It’s creased deeply where it’s been pressed in half and seems to be printed on at home print paper or glossy sheets for mini printers.
In it is a young man, smiling in a way that suggests he had been laughing, showing teeth and reducing his eyes to slits. His hair is long and straight, whipping around his face in a blur and his eyes glint with playfulness. He is beautiful. The warmth in Lava’s smile deepens and he holds the photo carefully.
“He looks happy. He must have loved you very much.” Lava says it without thinking and when he turns to look at Jai his heart sinks at his brother’s expression.
Jai crumples and covers his face with his hand, sobbing into the tight grip of his fingers. His shoulders shake as small sad sounds fight their way through his rigid throat. It breaks Lava’s heart and he scrambles to offer comfort.
"I'm sorry Annayya, Jai I-" Lava babbles apologies and tries to amend the mistake.
He reaches a hand out to Jai's shoulder. Jai recoils violently from the touch and stands quickly from the floor, trying to rush away, trying to hide his face. It's too much too fast, an excruciating pain he can't endure. He can't let Lava see him like this. He can't let anyone see him like this.
But, Jai hears the loneliness in Lava's voice as he calls for him. Jai stops at the doorway to his room, trying desperately to collect himself. When he finally turns he sees Lava handing him back the folded photo in a tentative grip. Jai takes it gingerly and sniffs, unable to make eye contact, unable to sit in this moment.
"Not yet." Jai rasps. "Not him."
Lava only nods and attempts a wobbled smile, his mouth opening and closing, trying to find the right words for this. He fails, but Jai doesn't suffer him for it. Jai retreats into the room and shuts the door gently behind him.
The energy shifts in the house. Kusa can feel it. It encourages him even more to stay away, to wander the village seeking distractions, seeking the comfort of Chitti. Jai and Lava circle each-other nervously. Lava at pushing too far and Jai for showing too much of himself. They both know deep down it’s a dramatic reaction, building a closer relationship is the goal. But, wounds are wounds and getting close, no matter how much they both want it, is still terrifying.
Lava tries to talk and Jai will wince at the expectation of questions he isn’t ready to answer. Jai feels isolated, withdrawn, he knows how unhealthy it will be but he feels nearly powerless to stop it. It frustrates him and he’s close to the point of giving up when something changes things.
It’s an early morning and Jai wakes only shortly after the sun. He makes his way outside for fresh air where he finds Lava hanging wet washing to dry. He loves to do his cleaning in the morning so Jai shouldn’t be surprised but Lava is in only his Lungi and thongs. Jai has never seen Lava with so little clothing and the reveal is upsetting.
Along the entire left side of Lava’s body is twisted wrinkled scarring, stretching and bending as Lava moves wet fabric on the line. It wraps angrily from his elbow, down his flank and to his knee. It even stretches near his back and kisses his waist. Jai’s heart drops into his stomach, his face twisting in sorrow as Lava finally turns to see him.
“Oh! Morning, I-“ Lava’s face falls, recognizing the expression in Jai’s eyes, mirroring the one he made when he saw Jai’s own twisted skin. Lava’s shoulders wilt and his arms resist the instinct to cover himself.
“Are they- Did I?” Jai swallows, his throat gripped tight by an invisible fist, anguish crossing his features at the evidence of his sins.
“They don’t hurt.” Lava whispers weakly. “I was lucky to have someone to be with me, to help them heal.”
Something goes unsaid. Did you have anyone with you? Did Kusa? Why was I given safety and love? Instead of speaking, Lava moves gingerly towards Jai and puts two fingers to Jai’s elbow, where the scarred flesh from fire sits.
“You have one too. I recognized it when I saw it.” Lava whispers. He is right. The flames touched Jai too that night as they roared around all three of them.
“We both have scars, they just look different.” Lava offers with a warm smile and Jai’s pain eases.
Jai makes the decision to try. He owes it to them. He wants to talk, he wants to give Lava space too. Jai takes them to the river, hoping the Godavari will offer guidance. They walk the bank slowly, making comments on sand and sparkling waters and the humid air. Lava finds his courage first.
“I won’t ask you to answer questions you aren’t ready for. My feelings come out too fast sometimes. I don’t know why it’s easier for me. I think I have less to protect, my childhood was so-“ Lava pauses to find the right word. “-quiet compared to you and Kusa.” Lava studies his nails with a frown.
“It makes me feel guilty.” Lava confesses, his voice sad. Jai only hums, taking the comment to heart and ruminating on his response.
“We were children. I was angry at both of you for so long but-“ Jai stops to swallow, rubbing at his throat. “I’ve made decisions I regret. It isn’t fa-fa-fair to be angry at the mistakes we made so young.”
Lava’s eyes are wide and wet. Jai can tell he’s holding back on responding, not wanting to say the wrong thing again. He lets Jai continue.
“I don’t want to be angry. But, sometimes, I can’t co-control-“ Jai stops, the words coming out wrong, confused at what he’s trying to say. “My mind won’t slow down, or listen to me.”
Lava perks suddenly, invigorated at the opportunity to find a solution.
“I am sure we can find something to help.” Lava chirps, the wheels in his mind already turning. “I’ve read about many different things to find peace.”
They both hear the words in their head, therapy, psychologist, medication, but they somehow don’t fit into their vocabulary. The language feels foreign and inadequate. Regardless, they also feel inaccessible, especially here in this small village. Jai rubs at his neck, trying to think on what he would be comfortable with.
“Is there anything like that you might already do?” Lava asks gently. “Something that calms you. Something you like?”
Jai knows the answer but suddenly feels foolish for it. It feels too obvious.
“Puja. I had alters in-“ Jai stops, nearly calling the Haveli Lanka. “-Odisha.” Jai finishes.
Lava’s eyes go bright again, pleased to have a starting point, a direction, a path to follow.
“We can do that!” Lava is nearly breathless now. “We can make something for the home! Is it Shiva?! We can find a lingam! Oh, I’m sure the market has enough for us or we can order out! There is a larger town close by we could-“
Jai smiles warmly at the enthusiasm, it’s endearing, and it makes him feel understood in a small way. He isn’t sure if it will still be Shiva. He isn’t sure where his faith sits now. It’s strange to let go of Raavan in this way too, he spent so much of his focus feeling empowered by him. He knows this change is inevitable but is anxious of what it will change in him. Jai agrees, perhaps with a tight smile but he does want to try.
The market is loud and bright with movement and life. It’s a bit much at first for Jai but it feels necessary to push against his own resistance. People laugh and the stalls are colorful and lively. He can smell savory street food and even hear the crackling of carbonated drinks. Children laugh and run past him and he tries to calm how unfamiliar it all feels. This is his village now and he wants it to feel that way.
Lava doesn’t seem to struggle as much, nearly jumping with excitement, hopping from stall to stall to pick up supplies. They grab at flowers, Dhoop, statues and KumKum. They do find a Lingam and Jai is impressed at it’s craftsmanship. Shiva for now he thinks, he can change it later if he wants to.
They spot Kusa there too, running around with Chitti, eventually settled at the milk stand, prattling with Dharani about his products quality and dodging small questions from his young children as they hang off the scruffy man like monkeys. Lava waves and Kusa does a strange happy sway of his head, in too good a mood to ignore them.
Lava goes very quiet and soft as Chitti’s brother approaches the two at the stand. Lava blushes as Kumar waves at him gently, his smile soft. Lava waves awkwardly then turns to hide his burning cheeks, occupying himself with the cloth bags they carry. Jai looks at him through the sides of his eyes and smiles.
“You are being too obvious.” Jai teases. Lava sputters and pretends to not understand the implication.
“He is a good man! He wants this village to thrive, I may help him. But, I’m very busy lately. He cares for this village, it’s admirable! I can help with the numbers if-“ Lava stops and pinches his lips together, the bright burn on his cheeks deepening. Jai only hums, realizing even Lava has things he’s not ready to talk about.
They are both interrupted at a loud yelp, Kusa wobbles as Dharani smacks his temple with a small stick, frustrated with something both brothers are sure is Kusa’s fault. Jai can’t help it, he lets out a wide laugh, something louder and stronger from his normal rasp of a chuckle. Lava beams and holds a few laughs behind his hand. Kumar tries to diffuse the situation and keep a wild Chitti from crawling over the stand.
Jai feels a warmth in his chest. He enjoys the heavy bags in his fists. They hold promise, something with light and hope. He is thankful for the insufferable attitude Lava likes to drown him in and looks forward to doing this difficult work with Kusa too. Suddenly the market is warm instead of painfully bright, suddenly the crowd isn’t so loud, suddenly this village feels closer to home than it did before.
And, like anytime Jai has felt in control, the universe decides to throw a rock through glass. Jai turns, his laughter bright on his face, his eyes scan the crowd on their own and stop with they spot a familiar face. Across the market, standing still as bodies move around him. Dark inky hair, burnt umber skin under sunlight. Flat, beautiful eyes and long lashes. A tortured expression of confusion and sadness. Jai’s face falls and the air punches out of his lungs.
Cherry.
Chapter 17: Rangasthalam
Summary:
Nobody said this was going to be easy.
Chapter Text
Jai sits in a feeling he doesn’t anticipate. The feeling isn’t terror or anxiety or shame. He’s wondered what he would feel if he ever saw Cherry again. He had anticipated at least some sorrow. But standing in the market, awkward and alone, Jai feels nothing but peace.
Cherry is alive. Cherry is so beautiful. Cherry came looking for him. He feels selfish that he is so happy, that his heart swells and cries out. He wants to rush Cherry, pull him into his arms and kiss him. Beg his forgiveness and tell Cherry everything.
Cherry doesn’t look like he feels the same. His face is wild with anger and melancholy. Cherry rushes first, pushing his body through busy market shoppers, making a beeline to Jai, moving so fast Jai doesn’t see it coming. Jai smiles, his eyes sad, and Cherry swings his arm in an arch, slapping Jai harder than he’s ever hit anyone.
Jai’s body sways and he stumbles, the space around him widens as the crowd in the market pushes back, gasps and murmurs rising at the sudden attack.
“Demon!! Coward!! Liar!! You fucking liar!!” Cherry screams.
Cherry’s fists swing wildly on any part of Jai they can reach. Jai only hunches, trying to protect his face, but knowing the hits have little weight behind them. Cherry is still holding back, or is weak from the lurching pain in his chest. Cherry’s face tries to hide how his heart shatters with wrath and vengeance, his voice a screech and his head whipping towards Lava, clearly an exact copy of his ex-lovers face. Lava is in shock at everything that unfolds and he shrinks under Cherry’s rage. He has a wildly strange thought that Cherry looks familiar and it clouds his ability to respond.
“Pretending to die!! Pretending to kill your brothers!! Pretending to love me!!” Cherry’s voice breaks and wobbles on the last bit, his lungs heaving and his eyes wide with anger.
Jai finally tries to stop him, wrestling with his wrists and getting slapped again for it. Jai yanks roughly on Cherry and grunts, calling out to him to get him to calm down, eventually deciding to get away from the growing crowd, watching them in confusion. Jai yanks again and gets them both to move. He can hear Lava call after him faintly but ignores it. Cherry growls and screams and continues to slap and hit at Jai, resisting, but Jai is stronger and pulls on Cherry easily.
Jai shoves them both into an empty stall across the way, boarded up and abandoned by it’s previous owner. It’s dark and full of dust, only a few thin rays of sun peak through wooden slats. It reminds them both of the gun shed in Lanka and the irony isn’t lost on them. Cherry rushes to the other side of the stall, pulling his hands through his hair and screaming into flat palms against his face.
“Ch-Cherry. Cherry I’m s-sorry. Cherry I lo-lo-“ Jai’s desperate declarations are interrupted by another scream. Cherry turns fast, his hair whipping around him like tangled vines.
“Don’t say that! You can’t! You don’t know how!” Cherry’s voice is thin and feral, it cracks and waves and his eyes threaten tears that Cherry refuses to indulge in.
Jai’s body trembles, his lip wobbling and his eyes wide, scanning Cherry for affection. All that relief and peace gone now. Jai wants to hold him, Jai wants to kiss him. Jai tries to show all of this on his face, afraid to speak, afraid to anger Cherry further. Cherry sees it and his face crumples in a wail.
“I’m so stupid! I’m so stupid!” Cherry heaves and he looses the battle with his tears. He starts to cry and holds his face again.
Jai starts to panic. He doesn’t know how to fix this. He practiced speeches and explanations and pleas a thousand times and still the words lock in his chest and refuse to come out.
“I’m s-s-sorry. I wanted to p-p-protect you.“ Jai begs Cherry to believe him.
“Still lying! I was always unsafe in Lanka, you knew that!” Cherry yells. “Tell me the truth!”
Cherry stands his ground, every muscle rigid, his jaw clenched and eyes hard. Jai’s mouth gapes, he tries to speak but his stammer is strong, leaving his jaw and throat painfully tight, Shiva’s roots tearing through flesh and bone to bloom. Jai’s hand comes to his neck and he slaps it hard, frustrated and upset.
Cherry growls and gnashes his teeth, putting his own hand to his neck and slapping it in mockery.
“None of that stupid bullshit!” Cherry slaps his neck again. “Say it!”
“I wanted p-p-power. My br-br-brothers were alive. I needed to sh-show them they couldn’t hurt m-m-me. I needed to be Raa-Raavan. I couldn’t have that with you.” Jai lets out a long breath, the short sentences exhausting.
“Why!?” Cherry’s voice goes higher.
“You m-m-made me ha-happy. I don’t need Ra-Ra-Raavan if I’m ha-happy.” Jai starts to cry. It hurts. Everything hurts. The pain is unbearable.
“I don’t want to be him.” Jai begs, his voice strained with regret as he sobs. “I only want you. Cherry. Pandu.”
The anger suddenly washes from Cherry’s face until only sadness remains. His body deflates and his shoulders sag. He walks to Jai slowly and smiles. Jai’s heart swells, hope rising at the tender expression. When Cherry speaks, it is a whisper, and a tear rolls down his cheek.
“I gave you everything. All of me. All that I had.” Cherry sniffs, pulls at his nose and looks away, his expression shifting to cruelty. “I regret it.”
Cherry ignores the way Jai’s face twists and falls. He shoves past Jai and leaves the wooden stall with a slam.
Jai pushes his body to face the wall Cherry stood by. Jai’s hand moves to his neck again, striking his throat hard, angry at his stammer. He practiced what he would say for months. He hits himself again. Why won’t they come out. He presses his head against the wood and dust. His heart aches and his body surges with pain. He cries there, his muscles trembling and the hole inside of him an empty void, wide like a cavern. He wants to fall through it, to find the relief of nothingness. Raavan reaches a hand out to him. The pull is an incredible temptation. Jai wants to. If the pain will stop Jai-
“Annaya?” Lava’s voice is a soft breath, worried and full of love.
Jai yanks his hand back from Raavan’s and he shudders through his lungs. Lava steps inside of the stall so gently that even his footsteps sound kind. Jai turns to him, his head low, trying to control the flow of tears with deep breaths. Lava rushes to him, a hand going to Jai’s chest, like a magnet to his heart. Jai curls around it, bowing his head and wincing, begging the tears to stop, begging the universe to take this ache away.
“Was that him?” Lava whispers, his brows creased and expression worried.
Jai doesn’t respond, only lifts a hand to clutch Lava’s. He feels something suddenly, a pulse, a memory that feels very old. He remembers that they aren’t just siblings, but that they were born together, they shared a womb, they shared their mother’s heartbeat. Jai remembers what it felt like to curl around Lava while they slept in their mother, Kusa’s tiny body between them. A burst of affection for Kusa rushes through Jai, like he should be here, like he is afraid Kusa isn’t safe unless he’s with them.
“Are they still out there?” Jai rasps and sniffs, referencing the crowd that had gathered to watch Cherry’s anger. Lava nods, his face going stern and his back rigid. He will take care of this.
“I’ll be right back, and then we will go home.” Lava squeezes Jai’s hand and disappears into sunlight.
Lava pushes out and faces a milling crowd, murmuring, perhaps gossiping about everything Lava had heard spoken behind the wooden slats of the stall. Lava huffs, finding their curiosity very rude and calls out for his younger brother. Kusa comes bouncing up with a smile, seemingly unaware of the chaos. Chitti follows behind him, a silly pair of yellow, star shaped googles on, too big for his head.
“Kusa I need you to do something important.” Lava whispers.
Kusa’s expression stills. He puts his very serious face on and listens. Chitti pulls on his ear and points to it. Kusa makes a hand signal, something Chitti seems to understand and he huffs in response. Lava moves closer to Chitti, hoping he will be able to hear if he speaks next to him.
“I need you to cause a distraction. Something loud.” Lava pauses, he wants to make sure he explains why with tact, but Kusa interrupts him.
“Okay!” Kusa turns around abruptly, and bolts toward the center of the market with Chitti skittering behind him.
It doesn’t take long for the chaos to erupt. Lava sees coconuts, flowers and bangles fly into the air. Chitti throws a chicken, Kusa swings a Gada. Lava would be appalled if he wasn’t so impressed. The crowd moves, pushing away from Jai’s stall to the new event unfolding near Dharani’s milk stand.
Lava sneaks back to Jai, helping his exhausted brother out and walking them both quietly home.
Jai won’t speak, he shudders and coughs and curls into himself on the bed Lava has tucked him into. Lava keeps his hand on Jai’s broad back, rubbing gently, wanting to ask questions but keeping his mouth shut. Jai needs to rest, they can figure this out later. Lava sits with him in silence long enough for Jai to fall asleep.
Lava makes his way downstairs and tries to figure out what to do when there is a soft rattle of the new door chimes. The light twinkle serves as a temporary doorbell as they continue to make repairs to the house. Lava uses his fingers to comb down his hair and straighten his clothing, wondering who would need to come calling. He stiffens in surprise as he swings open the door to reveal Kumar, Chitti’s brother, pushing the bridge of his glasses up shyly. Lava gapes, his cheeks coloring and hands fidgeting.
“H-Hi. I’m glad I found the right place.” Kumar peaks at the house exterior and laughs gently, his own cheeks bright and his smile even brighter. Lava has to turn his neck up to answer, Kumar is so tall.
“Oh, yes.” Lava squeaks. “This is my house.” Lava winces at his own awkward response but softens as Kumar laughs again.
“You left these.” Kumar lifts his hands to reveal the cloth shopping bags full of Puja supplies he and Jai had purchased earlier.
“Oh!” Lava breathes and reaches for them, a genuine smile blooming on his face. “Thank you!”
“I hope- I hope everything is alright?” Kumar asks it softly, with respect and sincerity.
Lava wants to brush it off, explain that it was only a misunderstanding, but lying to Kumar feels wrong somehow. He smiles broadly at first but then lets out a shaky breath, letting Kumar see a bit of the truth.
“Not quite, but we will get through it.” Lava smiles tenderly and Kumar sways his head in understanding.
“You are setting up a Puja Ghar?” Kumar points to the bags Lava still clutches. “Do you still not have one, since moving in?”
Lava’s ears burn at the question, a twinge of shame at his carelessness. He and Kusa aren’t as devoted as Jai, and he didn’t think to offer that to Jai while he healed. Kumar seems to pick on the shift in his expression.
“You come from the city? I miss it, a more casual approach to ritual can be a relief.” Kumar smiles, showing his understanding. “Luckily, this is a small village, we have enough devotion for everyone.”
Lava laughs, his eyes going bright.
“I feel a little foolish. My father didn’t teach me much except for the basics.” Lava shrugs his shoulders gently and basks in Kumar’s warmth.
“Oh! I could help!” Kumar quips, eagerness making his face glow. Lava’s body swells in affection.
“Not to invite myself in!” Kumar laughs nervously, a shy hand on his own neck. “Sorry, that was-“
“Yes! I would appreciate the help.” Lava breathes, his eyes shining.
Kumar smiles again and follows Lava gently inside. Kumar gives gentle instruction and helps place items and offer suggestions. Lava only nods and follows his lovely voice. Lava has only been around Kumar a handful of times, Kusa being too loud or too demanding of a distraction to allow them to really speak or connect. They have spoken a few times briefly, about politics or finances, very exciting things.
Lava will tell himself when they are apart that his fascination is only admiration, a recognition of Kumar’s strengths, his kindness, a prospective new friend. But, when they are together, his heart sings. His body begs to be closer and his chest flutters. They tell him Kumar is wonderful, Kumar is funny, Kumar is very handsome.
Lava tries to swallow it down, silence the obvious sighs of what this really is. These new feelings are confusing and strange. Lava has always been attracted to and preferred the affections of women. Lava isn’t naive enough to deny his attraction to men but it was never important enough to risk a more difficult life. A wife just makes more sense. Loving a woman is easy.
Still, Lava shamelessly indulges. He watches Kumar move around the room with strength and grace. His eyes drink in the way Kumar’s muscles shift under thin fabric and how his neck stretches as he places flowers near the Lingam base. Lava can smell Kumar too, the natural musk of a man, the light fragrance he wears at his neck and wrists. Lava leans into it, intoxicated with the aroma of Kumar.
Eventually Lava has to remind himself to stop. He may not fully understand his feelings right now, but he knows that whatever this might be, it isn’t an option. Lava is here with his brothers, it’s important he focus on them and their new home.
“There, it looks perfect!” Kumar smiles that warm soft smile again and Lava nearly melts.
“Oh!” Lava exclaims. “One more thing.”
Lava moves into another room and returns with a small wooden box. Inside is shredded paper for padding and 3 small figures. Lava pulls each figure out gently, knowing how important they are to Jai. He places the lion, the elephant and the monkey intentionally at the front of the alter, each with their own bed of flowers. Lava nods in appreciation of their work and turns to thank Kumar. As they catch each-other’s eyes, Kumar’s expression looks different, contemplative.
“Will you help me? With the investigation. Does your offer still stand?” Kumar asks. His eyes are softer now and his voice kind.
Lava wants to say no. He wants to put distance between this and his heart. He is afraid, and he doesn’t know why. It didn’t feel this way with Priya, it’s never felt this way. But, Kumar isn’t asking about that, he is only asking for clerical help, help with data and numbers and forms, something Lava is very good at. It would be quite rude not to offer his skills to someone so in need. Lava sways his head gently and smiles.
“I would love to.”
Cherry’s feet pound their way along the riverbank, he pants and babbles and pulls wildly at his hair in frustration. He’s been here for a while, pacing in an erratic line, back and forth, torn between a small village and the city.
“You are so stupid, still so stupid!” Cherry yells to himself. “You let him do this to you again. You let him hurt you again when you promised you wouldn’t!”
Cherry sees the market again in his mind. Jai’s easy and bright laughter, his brother laughing with him, alive and very well. He wonders where the other one is, probably also very alive, and also very happy, and also very cruel, just like Jai. Tears spring again. Cherry sobs and covers his face. It’s a constant rotation of anger and sorrow. He needs to leave, he needs to call an auto, back to the train station, back to Hyderabad.
Why did he give you the postcard? Cherry’s mind asks him.
“To torture me!” Cherry screeches to no-one.
He’s done it before! The fucking basement! He’s manipulative! A liar! Selfish and cruel! Demon.
Cherry’s mind reminds him of the birthday gift, the dancing, the theatre room and the turtles at the beach.
You know he loved you. You’ve always known it. If he isn’t lying about loving you, why would he lie about his brothers. Something must of happened to make him fake his own death. Lanka is empty. Why? What if he’s changed, what if he really is sorry?
Cherry sobs again.
Love isn’t always enough, he reminds himself.
Maybe, what Jai did was unforgivable, even if he has changed, even if he is sorry. Cherry can’t survive being hurt again like that. He can’t endure it. He has to protect himself. He has a family and a home and a job to get back to. Jai is alive, he knows that now, he can call the auto and leave this place in one piece.
We still love him. Cherry’s heart begs. Cherry’s breath comes out in a shudder.
I do love him. I want it to be true, that it was a mistake, that he loves me just as much as I love him.
Cherry makes a broken sound and wipes at his face, his hands now wet with tears.
Cherry is exhausted. Cherry is lonely. Cherry wants to stay.
“Aye!!” A voice yells, deep and angry.
Cherry’s entire body jolts at the sound. A man, calling out, and a kick, rocking his bed. No, not a bed, a boat. The boat he found wandering the riverbank, the boat he crawled into and fell asleep in. Cherry looks around dazed and half asleep, the rising sun too bright for his eyes.
“Who are you!? Why are you in my boat!?” The voice yells again.
Cherry looks up, a hand shielding the white sun-rays that silhouette the man standing over him. He is a bit older than Cherry but the same height and build. Clearly a man who lives in this village with a big dark beard and nice eyes. The man clicks his tongue and kicks the boat again.
“Was that you?!” The man asks quickly.
“From yesterday? Everybody is still cluttering about it!” The man makes a mock beak with his hand and clucks softly, like a chicken.
Cherry winces and sways his head yes, still trying to wake up properly. The man hums and deflates.
“Not a good bed this boat.” The man mumbles, seeming to mull on something.
“Chitti Babu!” The man exclaims and points to himself wildly. “Water Engineer!”
Cherry has to absorb that for a moment, wondering if he should know what a Water Engineer is.
“Cherry.” Cherry rasps, pointing a single finger to himself.
Chitti squints and points to his ear, leaning his head in closer. It takes a moment for Cherry to understand and he repeats himself in a louder voice.
“Oh! Like Charan!” Chitti smiles and Cherry barks a happy laugh.
“Cherries…” Chitti mumbles “I’m hungry! Hurry, let’s go!”
With that, Chitti starts to walk away, notching his head for Cherry to follow. Cherry realizes Chitti is walking towards a small machine on wheels. Chitti pulls a hose from the river and wraps it around the handle before pulling it to attach it to a small motorbike. Cherry scrambles quickly from the boat and rushes to catch up. He is hungry.
They putter down the main road to the village on the small motorbike, Cherry sitting behind, letting the cool wind sooth his tired skin. Chitti brings them to a farm where he instructs Cherry on how to help set up his ‘Water Engine’ Cherry realizes they are watering crops and huffs a laugh. Water Engineer.
After hearing how loud the farmers speak to Chitti, Cherry realizes Chitti has difficulty hearing out of one ear and adjusts his speaking volume accordingly. They don’t talk very much and when the watering is nearly finished, a small girl comes to bring them plates of food.
“I always get breakfast at this one so, I come here first.” Chitti explains with a mouthful of rice. Cherry tries not to laugh but he likes Chitti already.
“You are friends with my Kusa’s Anna?” Chitti asks and stuffs another handful of food in his mouth.
Kusa. Cherry remembers their names. Jai, Lava, Kusa. Chitti must know Jai’s brothers. Cherry only sways his head yes and eats his food quietly.
“Hmm. Not friends. You aren’t sleeping in their boat.” Chitti murmurs and Cherry sighs.
“You are quiet too!” Chitti yells. “That’s okay. I like to talk.”
Cherry can’t help but smile. Chitti seems kind, if a little strange. Cherry opens his mouth to reply but Chitti interrupts him.
“You can’t sleep in boat.” Chitti raises his brows and looks around nervously. He leans in closer to Cherry, speaking low.
“There are snakes.” Chitti whispers, then takes another bite.
“Everywhere!” Chitti yells through a mouthful of rice and Cherry finally laughs. It’s loud and happy and Chitti, uncaring of the reason, laughs with him.
Cherry hates that this feels familiar. He stands awkwardly, once again, in front of someone with authority over his fate. Rangamma squints at him and purses her lips.
“He is your friend?” She asks Chitti pointedly. Chitti only smiles and sways his head, somehow finding more food at her place. Cherry is starting to wonder if anyone actually pays Chitti or if they just distract him with meals.
“He looks familiar.” Rangamma mumbles to herself and Chitti points to his ear in frustration. Rangamma huffs and turns to head back into her house.
“I need help with cleaning while I go into town to trade!” Rangamma calls behind her. “You can stay and eat until you’re ready to leave.”
Cherry wants to protest. He doesn’t need a place to sleep and eat, he doesn’t need money for an auto to the train station, he doesn’t need a job. But, Cherry keeps his mouth shut, he sways his head and folds his palms in thanks.
Great. You’re a maid again.
“Cherries!” Chitti exclaims happily. Kusa’s brow furrows and his smile turns to a frown.
“Food?” Kusa asks.
Chitti huffs and drags Kusa closer to Rangamma’s home, where Cherry is hanging wet clothes out on a line. The water engineer smiles and waves Cherry over. Cherry smiles back and walks over quickly, happy at first, but then shy and uncomfortable.
“My Kusa!” Chitti beams at Cherry, trying to introduce them.
Cherry is thrown by the resemblance, it makes his stomach twist. Jai’s face looks so different on this brother but it’s still Jai’s face. Kusa’s smile is so wide and his eyes sparkle in a way Jai’s only do when they are alone, when they are intimate. Cherry tries not to look at them.
“C-Cherry.” Cherry laughs at the way Chitti says his name and watches as Kusa’s smile drops and he becomes very rattled. Kusa must recognize the name. Cherry isn’t sure what to do with the warm happy feeling he has when he realizes Jai talks about him.
“Nice! Good! Good laundry!” Kusa points to the line and laughs nervously, babbling his anxiety out.
“Che-che-che-che-che.” Kusa rambles. Cherry tries to smile but he feels just as unsteady. Kusa ends the introduction and drags Chitti off.
“Chinni! Do you know who that is?!” Kusa whispers loudly enough for Cherry to hear.
Cherry decides not to listen and shuffles back to his work, a flush of sadness creeping up. This is getting strange, this is getting real. Cherry is in a small village where Jai and his brothers are alive. Cherry is working for some kind stranger when he already has a job, because his poor lovesick heart can’t pull himself away. Cherry huffs and starts to work the wet laundry aggressively. When he turns back to Chitti and Kusa, a truth hits him square in the chest.
The way Kusa bows close to Chitti when they speak, not just so Chitti can hear, but so they can be close. The warm smiles they give each-other, even when they argue. How their hands graze each-other and how soft their eyes turn when the other speaks. Cherry would recognize it anywhere.
They are in love.
It’s so strange. Do identical siblings share everything? Even sexualities? Is it passed like that during birth? Cherry wonders to himself and grins, a better truth revealing itself.
Chitti is gay.
Jai hasn’t left his room since the day before, since the market. He keeps the curtains drawn and the lights off. He wants to rot into this bed, he wants to sink into the fabric, let muscle and bone weave into thread and become nothing but textile, soft and unfeeling. His body is a heavy stone that Lava can’t lift.
His brother tried to help, tried to show him the new altar he built, tried to get him to eat supper, but Jai won’t even speak. The pain is a dull throb, constant, a never-ending reminder of his failures, the great love he has lost, the destruction of the only good thing he’s had since Mounisha.
There is a creak of wood and the patter of thongs. Kusa shuffles into the room awkwardly, trying to clear his throat in the darkness. He stands a good way back from the bed and rasps Jai’s name. Kusa considers throwing something, maybe balled up socks? Jai just lies there, still as death, his body curled small and rigid.
“I know where he is!” Kusa blurts “Your….Cherry.”
Jai shifts, his body pulling itself upright to turn and look at his wild little brother. Kusa’s hair is still a mess, the curls are trying to grow out but he insists on continuing to straighten it himself. It isn’t going well. The clothing doesn’t help, ugly bright lungi’s over stiff shorts and a three day old vest. Jai thinks most of it comes from Chitti but he doesn’t discredit his brother’s awful taste. Jai blinks and frowns, wondering if Kusa is teasing, if his brother would be that stupid.
“Eh.” Kusa laughs nervously and rubs his palms together. “He didn’t leave. He’s with Rangamma.”
Jai nearly runs through the village, his feet pound on dry roads and his lungi whips at his ankles. He’s only met Rangamma a handful of times but remembers where her house is and rushes towards it. The yard is empty, no customers come to trade or ask for small loans, no Rangamma around counting out rupees or packing food for neighbors in need. Only a small figure on the side of the house pulling dry laundry from a line.
Cherry glows in the sunshine, his small body stretching up to grab at pins, lifting his ankles up to stand on his toes. The movement reveals the light skin on the soles of Cherry’s feet and Jai is flooded with love. Even his feet are beautiful. Cherry didn’t leave, Cherry is here, doing the same chores he did in Lanka, trying to survive, trying to work out Jai’s complicated feelings.
Cherry is brave and filled with a fight Jai feels weak in the presence of. The man he loves so tenderly and did everything in his power to push away. He is still here, angry and wild, kind and smart. His little beetle hunter.
He is a sweetling Jai. He loves you like we do.
“Gundello.” Jai calls out weakly, pushing himself past Rangamma’s fence.
Cherry startles and turns, his face immediately twisting at the deep timber of Jai’s voice. Jai understands, but he moves foreward, emboldened by Cherry’s reluctance to leave.
“Na prema. My wh-whole heart.” Jai’s voice cracks.
Jai needs to say the words. He needs to tell him. His throat is tight but he won’t fail this time. Even if Cherry refuses him, even if he never forgives him, Cherry deserves to know.
Cherry frantically pulls at clothing, throwing them into a woven basket, rushing to try and get back into the house. He doesn’t want to hear this, he doesn’t want to be convinced of it. Jai only moves closer, trying to remember everything he practiced, trying to say the words correctly.
“I know h-how to love.” Jai swallows hard as his voice twists, his throat going rigid. Cherry freezes, his back to Jai.
“I lo-loved you before. I loved y-y-you many times. If you cannot love m-me in this life. I will wait and find you, and love y-you again.” Jai swallows when he finishes, hoping it sounded right.
Cherry’s face crumples and he turns to look at Jai. His mouth moves but no words come out. Cherry turns instead, walking away swiftly with his basket. Jai starts to panic, he needs to say more, his words aren’t good enough, he needs Cherry to believe him. Cherry reaches for the front door of the home and Jai yells out.
“I don’t want to wa-wander! I want the forest.” Jai shudders out a long breath. Cherry stops at the declaration and turns. He isn’t moved or convinced. He’s angry.
Cherry screeches and rushes towards Jai in a fit. When he reaches him, Jai steps back, thrown by the sudden movement. Cherry raises the wide basket of laundry and slams it to the ground with a growl.
“STOP! I am not Maa Sita and you aren’t Raavan!” Cherry screams and slaps a hand against his own chest. “I am Charan! Cherry!” Cherry shoves a finger into Jai’s sternum.
“You are Nidumolu Jai Kumar! You hurt me! You were cruel!” Cherry starts to cry and puts his bottom lip in his mouth.
“This isn’t Lanka or Ayodhya! There are no Forests or groves!” Cherry motions his hands around in the air, and points to Rangamma’s house. “I am here, and so are you, and this is Rangasthalam!!”
With that, Cherry storms away, slamming the door behind him, leaving Jai alone with his hollow heart.
Jai will go home and Jai will clean his room. He will tidy the alter and ensure the Haveli deeds and financial forms lie on his bed neatly. He will fold his clothing and take out all his jewelry. The rings in his ears and nipples will sit on the sink. Cherry’s photo will sit next to them. Jai will take the brass curry pot from the kitchen. The one Lava brought for them. The lock doesn’t work on the door so he will have to use a stool.
The water isn’t warm anymore. It doesn’t soothe or comfort Jai’s skin. It prunes and leeches all the warmth from his body. He lies in the cold bath weightless. He feels empty here, buoyant and gutted, he can be hollow, he can disappear in ripples. There is nothing left in him, he has nothing left to cry for.
Jai lets his skull sink, making a sound as it bangs on the bottom of the tub. He watches round air bubbles wave and warp above his eyes, popping at the surface and taking every wound with them. The heavy bottom pot on his chest keeps him from floating up. He keeps his palms on it, to keep it from slipping. It doesn’t take long for his lungs to burn and his mouth to gape like a fish, searching for air.
Eventually it’s a sharp stabbing pain, blades sinking into his chest, his body begging him to stop, to let up, to live. Jai knows it will pass, like all the pain he’s endured has, and if he holds on to the pot long enough, disappear forever this time. He convinced himself it was just to feel this moment, to test it, wondering if it feels familiar, wondering if it feels better. Now that he lies here on the cusp, his vision fading, he considered letting it happen, letting go.
A muffled pounding, the screech of wooden stool legs, a loud voice and then another. The scramble of wet feet and the sensation of warm hands on his arms. More muffled cries. The weight on Jai’s chest disappears and he’s being pulled from water, a violent birth and the inflation of his lungs. Punarjanman.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” Lava yells, his voice trembling, his breath a panicked pant.
Lava pulls at Jai, the water splashing around them violently. Kusa is behind him, his hands in his hair, mumbling to himself, pacing and terrified. Coughs wrack Jai’s body and he vomits bath water. His body trembles and he hunches over, trying to hide his face. Lava’s hands pull at him and smack at his shoulders.
“What are you doing Jai?!” Lava’s voice is sadder and smaller, he sobs and squeezes muscle.
“I f-f-fell asl-l-leep.” Jai rasps, still coughing and wheezing, unable to look at them, his hands clutching the tub. Kusa lets out a sad, angry sound and leaves the bathroom, slamming the door wildly until it closes and pops back open, the wood splintering.
Lava stands abruptly, panicking harder, his clothing soaked in water, his hair dripping and eyes rimmed red. Lava’s hand trembles as his palm presses flat to his face, hiding his eyes. He sinks to the ugly green toilet and stays there, shivvering with sorrow. They sit like that, quiet and alone, for as long as it takes Lava to breathe normally again. When he’s ready, he sniffs and puts his hands to his knees to stand, letting out a deep breath as he does so.
Jai looks so small in the tub, his lips still a tint of blue, water dripping down his skin like tears. His body shaking so hard his teeth chatter. Lava helps Jai from the tub, sniffing and pulling and dragging him to bed. He collects things in Jai’s room, belts, threads, anything he can hang himself with, anything sharp. He shoves them all into the heavy pot and throws it into the hall. Jai hides his face in his hands again.
“I’m going to fix this.” Lava whispers. “I promise Jai, I promise I can fix it.”
Jai doesn’t have a response for that, he sinks into the bed and tries to breathe. Lava will sit in a chair in the hallway, contemplating if he should remove Jai’s doors.
It’s late when Cherry finishes his chores. The sun is ready to set and grey clouds loom in the sky. He grateful that he was able to finish before Rangamma returns. He’s made his decision and he doesn’t want her kindness to guilt him into staying. Cherry changes into his dirty clothing from the day before, grabs his wallet and keys and checks that the shape in his jacket pocket is still heavy. He can’t explain why he brought it, he isn’t even sure if he remembers grabbing it. Regardless, he doesn’t want to forget it here of all places.
Cherry rushes out of Rangamma’s home, he feels guilty for leaving his new friend Chitti, but if Jai’s cryptic wording was anything to go by today, Jai hasn’t changed. Cherry needs to stay safe, he needs to protect himself. Back to his family, back to the city, back to quiet days and wanting nothing to do with men who smile at him.
Cherry checks that the front door is locked and turns swiftly to leave before a shape catches he side of his eye. To his left, swaying in the wind, hanging from a rusty hook over the porch is a pot. A heavy round clay pot filled with tumbling tangled vines that droop down withered and brown. Cherry’s feet stay frozen. It’s a coincidence. They could just be dying vines. It means nothing.
However, now that’s he’s seen them, his eyes scan and latch. Cherry moves out of Rangamma’s yard into the street. Across the way, another porch and another pot, a tangle of vines. Cherry’s heart starts to race. The house next to it, a pot, a tangle of vines. Cherry jogs down the road, another house, another pot, vines. Every house on this street, every porch, a pot, a tangle of vines.
♫ Cherry races around the village, his breathing a wispy rush through his lungs. Porch, pot, vines. Porch, pot, vines. Dozens of pots identical to each-other, dozens of vines and clay and dirt and rust nails. Cherry finds the porch he is looking for eventually. The house Chitti had pointed to, where his Kusa lives. A porch, a pot, vines. Cherry’s heart is in his throat, and as he circles the home, rain starts to fall in sheets.
He makes his way to the back, where he catches two windows on a second floor. Cherry spots a nearby ladder and yanks it from where it leans to slam between both windows. His lungs burn, his chest heaves, he climbs the ladder frantically and bangs on the nearest window.
Cherry cups a hand over the glass to look in. Someone moves inside, shifting on a bed. Cherry knows Jai’s silhouette anywhere. Cherry bangs again, louder and harder, making the thin glass rattle. The ladder shakes, thin and old but Cherry doesn’t waver. The window eventually slides up and open, Jai’s confused and panicked expression peaking through.
Cherry stands in the rain, breathing fast and hard, his hair soaked wet and flat against his head, his big ears sticking out. Jai looks weak, tired, his eyes swimming with exhaustion. Cherry wipes at his wet face and his expression shifts to urgency.
“Let me in!” Jai gapes at Cherry’s demand. “Move!”
Jai steps back and Cherry crawls inside, nearly falling onto the bedroom floor. He brings rainwater with him but Jai only watches, worried. Cherry pushes into the small room, it’s dark, but he can see most of it. It looks old and different, nothing like Raavan’s room. Cherry continues to pant as his eyes scan the walls wildly. A flash of lightning solidifies it, illuminating what Cherry is looking for.
Along each wall, hanging from the top, are clay pots. Pot after pot, after pot of tangled vines hanging down like temple Ghantas. Gulebakavali. At least a dozen of them, making the entire border of the room look like a wild jungle. Another flash of lighting and wayward white petals reveal themselves on the floor, missed during a sweep, dried out and frail. Cherry turns to Jai, his face a flash of shock and sincerity.
“Are you making wishes?” Cherry whispers, his lips still wet from the rain.
Jai shifts his weight awkwardly and it’s finally, right now, that Cherry sees him. Jai looks different. There are things about his body he could always see but it isn’t until this moment that Cherry realizes what he’s looking at. Jai looks smaller, his shoulders hunch and he keeps his arms close to himself, his hands wringing each-other in anxiety. His clothing is rumbled and not a tailor fit. His hair is wild and curly in a way Cherry has never seen it, his beard grown out and untrimmed agains a bushy mustache. His skin even looks different, a little darker under the village sun and he’s wider, the rich food making him softer.
This isn’t Raavan. This is Jai. A person Cherry only ever saw glimpses of. A person Cherry loved so deeply. A person Cherry knows so little about. Raavan isn’t here. Only Cherry and Jai.
“I thought-“ Jai swallows, his eyes darting around at the flowers. “-If there w-were more, m-maybe-“
♫ Jai doesn’t finish. Cherry lets out a punch of air and rushes Jai. Jai is pulled to him instinctively, his arms opening, gathering Cherry into an embrace like he had been waiting for it, like holding each-other is now muscle memory. Cherry’s arms go around Jai’s neck and grip tight. They drop to sling around his shoulders and Jai’s arms wrap just as tightly around Cherry.
Cherry sobs against Jai’s shoulder and Jai rests a hand on Cherry’s head, pulling him closer, his own face crumpled and sad. The hug feels indescribable. Cherry’s heart hurts, he is in terrible pain and he knows Jai is the cause. But, Jai is also someone Cherry’s heart will seek to soothe this kind of ache. Jai’s hold and his scent and the warmth of his body is the kind of comfort Cherry needs when he feels this way. Cherry melts into it, his feelings confusing and terrifying but the hug, the hug feels safe.
Cherry lets himself cry. The kind of cry a person lets out when they feel alone, when they are worried nobody will find them or offer to hold them. His breath hitching, making sounds Cherry would make when he was young and afraid, needing his mother, needing to be protected. Until Cherry can be sure the danger has passed. That everything is okay.
Jai is here, Jai is okay.
“I have you. I’m here, Pandu.” Jai whispers, holding him tighter, cradling his head and neck and swaying them.
Cherry pulls back slowly, swallowing and sniffing away tears. He rests his head against Jai’s and breathes. When he looks into Jai’s eyes he lets out a sigh and kisses him. It’s gentle, their mouths pressed together only for a moment. Then another, then another. Jai looks lost but unwilling to let this stop. His brows pinch and his face does something complicated but Cherry keeps kissing him.
It feels like a dream. Jai doesn’t process everything in quite the right order. Cherry has his hands in Jai’s lungi, pulling. Then his vest, then Jai can see Cherry’s body too and more clothing crumpled on the floor. They are naked and Cherry is still kissing him. Cherry’s tongue is soft and so is his body. Skin and hair molds to his hands. The lightning keeps flashing, the rain casting shadows in the darkened room.
They are in bed. This is a dream, Jai thinks. This is a dream. Cool sheets and soft pillows and Cherry’s hair fanned out like the black threads you tie around your body to protect you from evil. From pain. From life.
Cherry rolls them, he wants to be under, he wants to be on top, he wants his body to glide along Jai’s, every inch of their skin touching, every hair brushed against, lips sealed together and tongues licking. It’s a dream. Cherry’s hands touch him again, Jai shudders and his heart years for more. The rain pelts the window, thunder still crashes. Jai wonders if the clouds take bets on their love, whether the sky breaks open in sorrow, or joy.
“I don’t want sex.” Cherry whispers against Jai’s mouth. “Just this.”
Jai only nods, his eyes wide. He wants the same.
“I only w-want you.” Jai responds. Cherry turns them again, sitting over Jai, soft and beautiful.
“Tell me.” Cherry kisses him again. “Say it.”
Cherry’s face looks afraid. Jai wants to laugh. It’s such an absurd thing to ever doubt, to have to reconfirm. How could he have been so stupid in Lanka. Jai cups Cherry’s face in awe, pushing his palm into Cherry’s wet hair.
“Nēnu ninnu prēmistunnānu.” Jai breathes and latches their mouths together again.
Jai had watched Cherry as long as he could. This beautiful thing, back in his arms, so soft and ethereal in sleep. Jai pushes a strand of hair back and marvels. He tries to keep his eyes open, he can’t miss another minute of Cherry’s life, he can’t ever let him go. But, the day was exhausting and Jai finally drifts off.
When he wakes, the sun is bright and Jai is alone in his bed. He cannot say he is surprised but his heart still sinks. He wonders perhaps it was a dream. He wonders if this was just goodbye, or Cherry enacting vengeance. Jai wold be grateful for it, one more night with him, even if the intention was to hurt him. He starts to see Cherry on a train, on his way home, until he turns and finds something left on his bedside table. It’s small and delicate. Cherry’s Chirutha, the small paw and tail glued back on gently.
Jai swallows and his fingers tremble as they reach for it. He cups the porcelain figure with both hands and moves gently through the house. He is careful to step around Lava, asleep on the hallway floor near his door, covered in Kusa’s blanket. He’s quiet stepping down the stairs, holding the Cheetah reverently. He places it slowly on the alter, nestled with his brother’s figures. He gives it flowers and ensures it will be safe and steady.
He knows this isn’t complete forgiveness, Jai has more work to do, they both to. But this is so much, this is a start.
This is trust.
Chapter 18: Hamsa
Summary:
Love can be powerful.
Chapter Text
The building is small but looms over Jai with the promise of authority, a pillar to clutch at as he takes his lashings. Jai's skin itches, and he can feel the roots in his throat stretch and clutch. He feels pushed into a small space, cornered with no real escape. He knows he agreed to this, but now that they are here, he is starting to regret it.
The building is old too, peeling paint and withered flowers near the window. It looks dull under the early morning sun and even the birdsong doesn’t echo against it. It looks wrong, it looks like a mistake. Jai halts as they approach the entrance and Lava stutters to a stop behind him. Lava watches Jai struggle to push forward, a look of apprehension and stubbornness on his older brother's face.
"Jai. You said-" Lava is interrupted by a grunt and the clench of Jai’s fists. Lava huffs and moves closer to Jai’s rigid form.
“We talked about it. You agreed. We try this or- or we go to the city and see a-“ Lava tries to remind Jai of the ultimatum, but is interrupted again with another grunt.
Jai’s face twists and his shoulders rise, but Lava is right. He needs to do something. He needs help. Jai sways his head and tries to relax before pushing past Lava to enter the building.
Inside is much nicer than the exterior. Inside the building is soft and light, with clicking fans wafting the pleasant fragrance of wildflowers. The inside is cool compared to the sweltering heat outside and Jai is grateful at least for that. He studies the place carefully. There is a small waiting area, with a wide desk and a few chairs. It opens up into a larger room behind the desk that Jai can only get a peak of if he stretches his neck. Jai can tell this seems to be most of the building, quaint and cozy, but he suppose this type of work doesn’t need that much space.
Jai sits in one of the waiting chairs, old wicker, scratched lacquer, and rough fabric. It squeaks as he shifts uncomfortably. Lava moves to the desk to ring the tiny brass bell, a little tarnished from age. Most things in the room look a bit old but seem to be cared for and clean. Jai likes the faint smell of rough textiles and splintered wood. The aroma is a comfort in small villages.
A woman comes out from a door at the end of the open room, shuffling and throwing the excess fabric of her shawl over her shoulder. She smiles warmly at Lava and her eyes glitter at the joy of meeting new people. Jai hates this already. The woman folds her palms and calls Lava by name, checking the small gold watch on her wrist to ensure she has the right appointment. They speak together in low voices and the woman smiles again. Then they laugh together.
Jai feels like a child. Like he’s being talked about with concern about his behavior, development, intelligence, and all the mistakes he’s made. His hands clench the creaking wicker armrests, remembering those mistakes trace back to a single thread, a point in his life when his young heart was ripped from him. His eyes slit, studying Lava’s back, his clean light clothing, the airy and simple way he talks to strangers, the twinkling laugh he can pull when meeting new people. Anger flares in Jai, that thread leading back to the cruelty of his brothers, Balarama, his mother’s death-
“Jai.” The woman is speaking to him. She is standing in front of him. She looks breathless with happiness. It startles Jai and interrupts his emotional spiral. The woman folds her palms and introduces herself.
“Harshali.” She says, her voice light and kind, the skin around her eyes crinkling and the wispy gray hairs at her temple fluttering.
Harshali appears to be older than Jai and that is a relief. Jai isn't sure if he could do this with someone young.
"Why don't we move into the main room and talk?" Harshali says it with a sweetness that Jai doesn't want to trust.
She is open and still, inviting but a stranger. Jai’s heart recoils from it. Before he can give a reason not to, Harshali turns to move into the main hall. As Jai stands to join her, he watches Lava slink past him, a quick hand on his arm and a farewell smile. Jai stutters in his stride, all the anger and resentment flooding out of him. Where is Lava going? He isn’t going to stay? An older voice in his mind lets him know that was to be expected, he needs to do this by himself. But a smaller voice, weak and afraid, keeps asking for his Thammudu. Jai‘s brows pinch, deciding he is uncomfortable with that need, that new voice, and ignores it.
Harshali moves gracefully and Jai follows behind in a tired shuffle. She begins to drag out a wide mat and Kantha cushions for sitting. Once they both fold themselves onto the floor and face each other, Harshali leads them into a conversation.
“Do you understand the type of services I offer here Jai?” Harshali asks gently.
Jai feels like a child again, asked to repeat his sentences over and over until his stammer softens. Jai studies the room around them, the mats and cushions, the pamphlets and posters tacked neatly to the walls about positioning Chakras and Doshas .
“M-m-meditation.” Jai’s face heats in shame at the sudden stammer. Harshali doesn’t acknowledge it but smiles warmly.
“Yes. I am a classically trained Yogini. My practice specializes in the Tantra, primarily Hatha I studied in Tibet but my application is a bit esoteric. My clients are in pain, however, they wish to define it, and I try to help them find relief.” Harshali pauses, letting the words sink in, giving Jai a space to react. He only hums and his cheeks burn a little brighter.
“I don’t allow limitations. I let the Ayurvedic teachings work alongside the more Allopathic methods of processing trauma .” Harshali says the word with confidence, enough so that it pricks at Jai’s skin, not allowing him to hide from it.
“Jai, before we continue, I need to ask you a question.” Harshali says. Jai’s heartbeat picks up, it thuds against his ribs and begs him to run from this, to hide from it.
“I want to help. I believe this is my Dharma, but, I cannot help someone unless they want me to. I can see the pain that you are in, I see it wash off you in waves. It’s something I can always recognize.” Harshali’s voice is soft with empathy and understanding, it makes Jai’s throat twist.
“Your brother made this appointment for you, he brought you here and spoke for you. I’ve had students in the past come to me who weren’t ready, but felt an obligation to their family.” Harshali’s voice is stern now, giving weight to the implication.
“I need to know Jai. Do you want to be here? I cannot help you if you do not.” It isn’t accusatory, but it’s firm.
Jai thinks for a moment. He hates this room, he hates this cushion, he hates the way it asks his skin and flesh to tear open and reveal the tender viscera of his heart. He doesn’t want Lava to worry, or scare Kusa into tears. His memories are black scorch marks on his soul, his sins the color of charred flesh. Mounisha, Sekhar, Rohini. He can’t reconcile all of this here, in this old room, with old splintered wood and rough fabric stretched tight. Too many weak threads threatening to snap.
Anger flares in him, why does he need this? Is this not something he could take care of himself? He's survived this long without help. He wants to return to what worked before. Strength, control, an iron fist. A palm clenched into a weapon.
The palm you hit Cherry with.
Jai's body flares in pain. He remembers it vividly. The tiny squeak and twist of Cherry's vocal cords as Jai slapped him, the slump and shape of Cherry's small body on the floor, how his skin reflected the rain and shivered. That night still haunts him, the memory an ache, one he deserves to endure, one he needs help with. Jai starts to panic, this feels too big, too much, too terrifying. How could anyone fix this? How can Jai even try ? It will be too hard, It will hurt too much.
Then suddenly, a rush of relief and the pain ebbs. Jai feels Cherry pressed against his back like a ghost. His strong arms wrap tightly across Jai’s chest, square hands protecting his heart. Cherry’s cheek presses against his shoulder and swells in a sweet pout. He hums, the way he does when he wants to remind Jai how much he loves him. Jai embraces the shadow's encouragement and finds his strength.
“Yes.” Jai whispers.
“Good. That’s good.” Harshali’s smile is genuine and wide. She settles into Lotus and motions for Jai to mimic her.
“So, tell me. Where does it hurt?” Harshali asks, taking a deep breath in.
Jai pushes a hand slowly to his chest, over his heart, and breathes with her. His fingers curl around soft fabric, flexing against a rapid beat.
“Everywhere.”
Kusa did not expect that the texture of dried corn kernels against his bare feet would be so pleasant. He hums at each step and sifts with his toes through the mountain of yellow pebbles. The sun is hot and bright over their backs, but with Chitti and competition, Kusa can ignore any hardship. Kusa eventually finds a tiny pebble and his entire body jolts with satisfaction.
"Got you!" Kusa whispers excitedly and feels Chitti bristle next to him.
A disappointed grumble putters out of Chitti at how well Kusa is doing, his small pile of debris is now so much bigger than Chitti's. Kusa only grins, his face going round and flushed with accomplishment.
"It isn't that hard Chinni! You just have to pay attention." Kusa offers smugly.
Chitti snaps his teeth and tries to work faster. Why isn't he finding more!? His feet are bigger than Kusa's fat little round ones, he should be winning!
Chitti huffs, his face scrunching and his feet moving faster. Kusa notices the sudden enthusiasm quickly and tries to match the little engineer's speed. Eventually, the task devolves into fast kicking, spraying kernels around wildly. Both Chitti and Kusa lock eyes and pant, slowly digging themselves into the pile of dried corn, bent on outlasting the other in what now appears to be a competition in endurance and speed.
”Stop it! Stop it!” Raj yells at them, throwing husks at their heads as they scramble on his harvest.
”I asked for work, not this, not this! Off, off!” Raj shouts.
Raj begins throwing larger, heavier objects, and both men yell out as shoes, husks, and small pebbles strike them, forcing them both off their perch to fall on their bottoms. They both cackle and scramble to run away, the loud laughter of the women working with them echoing behind. A flutter and trail of corn kernels fall behind in their escape, joining the disgruntled complaints of the farmer who threatens to follow them.
Kusa loves running through fields with Chitti. Chitti is fast and wild like him, he runs like how the wind feels and lets the dry weeds whip around him, uncaring of the things everyone else loves to complain about.
It’s too hot, it’s too dry, I will sweat!
Chitti doesn’t complain. Chitti jumps when he runs, he sways, his thongs get covered in sand, and his Lungi snags on sharp branches. Kusa makes wild noises with him, trying to keep up, like two animals racing in the forest. Chitti’s square hand grabs at Kusa’s tightly, and his hair flutters around his brow. When Chitti smiles, it looks like how warm water feels on cold skin. Kusa likes to be slower sometimes, to trail behind Chitti’s sprint and watch him move, his heart thudding and lungs crying out. They are happy in this way, they are in love. Kusa is the wind and Chitti is sunlight.
It’s always felt like this, even in the beginning, on the very first day they met. The memory is easy for them, it’s kept safe in their hearts.
Two weeks. Two long terrible weeks in this boring awful village. Kusa sulks, using a stick to flick at stones on the ground, wandering aimlessly through this boring awful village to find anything to do that isn’t watching Jai be sick. Kusa hates it here, the sun is too big and too loud and the birds won’t shut up. THE ROADS ARE MADE OF DIRT. He wants to go back home, he likes the city and he misses the noise. Everybody here looks at him, everybody here is so quiet.
“Get him Chitti!!” A group of voices cry out. It’s loud enough for Chitti to hear and for Kusa to catch from across the village, his head whipping up in curiosity.
Chitti weaves and sways through the village, the slither and swish of the snake causing people to part and jump as Chitti chases it. He is so close this time, he can see the black frightened band tremble and wiggle as she tries to race away. Chitti can feel the slick texture of her skin, the way it changes if you move your hand backward, the glint of tacky scales, and her sharp fangs in tender pink flesh, dripping with venom.
Chitti is close, he pushes through people, past carts and a dozen homes, through hay and corn, and any other obstacle in his way. Soon, he reaches the market and the people cheer for him. He’s only two steps behind her and he’s ready to take a leap, to lunge at her and wrap his hands around her small thin body when she speeds up. She finds sudden strength and Chitti yells out. How can she be so fast?! How can he be slower than her?!
They are reaching the center of the market. Chitti’s lungs burn and his legs ache. His heart drops and he gets the sudden urge to stop, to give up again, to wait for the next sighting. Just as Chitti starts to slow, his calves cramping, there's an explosion. Sound and splints and dust. Fruit, corn, and tiny wisps of confetti burst through from an empty market stand. A man appears in a wild leap, and Chitti stops to watch in awe.
The man looks magnificent, his long colorful Lungi flutters in the air, his teeth shine like pearls and his muscles bulge under a mesh vest. He has a nice beard and impressive mustache, and his hair grows out wild and strange, like it wants to curl, but doesn’t know how to.
Chitti watches the man move in slow motion, dramatic and glittering, like a Megastar movie. Chitti is shocked into admiration and his smile stretches wide before time catches up and the man slams to the earth. Dust wafts into the air again and conceals the man for a moment, allowing the villagers to murmur and gather.
Eventually, as the air clears, a hand shoots up grasping the wiggling snake, clutched tight in a round fist. The man laughs like a Deva but then his face winces and his eyes go to tiny points.
”Is this a snake?!” The man shouts but laughs again, his smile now trembling with unease.
Chitti laughs breathlessly and grabs a small woven basket. He snags the snake from the man and stuffs her into the basket with a tight lid. The man, nearly frozen, shakes his hand and winces again. Chitti realizes the man is also carrying a small pot of milk. The man readjusts himself in a wiggle and swings the pot of milk to his shoulder, trying to stand tall and strong, accidentally spilling some of the milk over his shoulder and down his back. The man forces another strong laugh, a little wilder this time.
”You are welcome!” The man bellows, his voice high and happy, trying to awkwardly drink from his pot, still on his shoulder. Chitti finally recognizes him and laughs again.
”Kusa! Oh, thank you.” Chitti taps at the basket and holds it tightly against his chest. Normally he would be disappointed, or feel outshined, but Kusa’s display was so impressive, that Chitti can only admire the defeat.
”Yes, yes that’s my name!” Kusa lets out a satisfied breath and lowers his pot, clutching it to his chest just the same, letting the milk dry tacky on his skin.
Kusa calls him Chitti, remembering the name he heard the women yell. Chitti sways his head gently and smiles again. He wonders about the rumors he’s heard, he was sure Kusa would be a man to be suspicious of, a man to reprimand or watch closely, but seeing him now, he wonders if Kusa is like him, sometimes seen wrong.
Kusa moves to stand closer to Chitti, his smile growing warmer. Chitti can feel his ears burn and his heart stutter. Kusa looks very nice, his face is round and his eyes sparkle. The rest of Kusa is round too. Chitti likes that. Chitti realizes the people around them have started to disperse, and a grumbling man is trying to fix up the stand Kusa leaped through.
”Are you keeping it?” Kusa points his chin to the basket and sips his milk again. Chitti startles and looks down at the basket.
”No, no! She is wild, she needs to go back home to her forest. Except there is another, her mate. I need to find him first so they can be together.” Chitti smiles and his hair bounces happily.
”Oh, romance.” Kusa murmurs. Chitti’s ears burn again.
“Easy for us! We will find him next!” Kusa promises, and lets his body swell in confidence.
Chitti smiles wide again and accepts the offer. He wants to say thank you, wants to give Kusa an excuse to keep talking, to stay close. Eventually, Kusa’s face brightens and he sniffs the air.
“Poornalu.” Kusa whispers.
Chitti pulls at his ear and his face pinches. Kusa doesn’t understand at first but he repeats himself louder and Chitti sways his head happily.
“Ah! Yes! Peddha Panduga is soon!” Chitti chirps, then his face goes bright with an idea.
“I will buy you Poornalu ! For helping me!” Chitti smiles and lifts his little snake basket, wiggling it until they are both laughing.
Kusa licks his lips as they both rush through the market to a nearby food stand. It is still early, so the market isn’t full yet. Still, people putter around chatting with neighbors and buying necessities. Kusa enjoys all the bright colors and the smell of rice and vegetables. He wonders if Lava has been here yet or if Jai would want anything comforting to eat.
Chitti interrupts Kusa’s thoughts as he rambles about the quality of the vendor’s food. Then rambles to the vendor himself about Peddha Panduga celebrations. Kusa realizes the vendor speaks very loudly to Chitti and Chitti will turn his head to hear. Kusa understands Chitti must not hear good out of that ear and he will need to speak loudly. Kusa is fine with that, people always tell him he is too loud anyway. The vendor turns away and they both watch happily as two pages of newspaper are rolled into cones and filled with freshly fried Poornalu .
Kusa takes his and Chitti’s until they find a cart to sit against, so Chitti can place his snake basket somewhere safe. He decides to rest his feet on it and they dig into their snack. Kusa hums happily, very pleased with the food, Chitti tries not to laugh, but Kusa is very sweet and very funny. Kusa talks too, Chitti likes that. They talk about the village, the snake, and the upcoming festival. Chitti can’t remember the last time he’s had so much fun just talking. Eventually, they finish and crumple their newspapers into small balls to toss them in a nearby bin. Chitti grabs his snake and hears a small annoyed hiss.
“We have to find her mate quickly. I can’t keep her too long, she needs the forest.” Chitti quips. Kusa nods very seriously and huffs.
Kusa is smart, he asks about what snakes eat and where they sleep. Chitti feels foolish for not having thought of that, he had always stuck to the fields, but Kusa helps him realize barns are a good spot for snakes, warm hay, and plenty of small mice. Kusa mentions finding a few himself when he would sleep in them. Chitti wonders why anyone would sleep so much in barns.
They scour the village, running from farm to farm until the young daughter of one leads them to a pile of hay. She lifts it partially with a stick and reveals what she had found a few days ago. Chitti makes a sad noise and kneels in the barn, putting his hand gently under the snake's limp body. It’s the right color and size, and it’s a male. A rush of melancholy covers his heart.
“Oh no.” Kusa whispers. “She will be alone now.”
Chitti shakes his head and pulls at his lobe. Kusa feels guilty for forgetting and repeats himself louder. Chitti’s face pinches, but he sniffs any emotion away quickly, wrapping the small body in his scarf and carrying him out. Kusa follows behind in a gentle jog.
“We can burn him.” Kusa offers. “If that will help.”
Chitti feels foolish for wanting to, like a child who needs his hand held through the death of a pet. Chitti sways his head no.
“We can give it to the Soothsayer for medicine.” Chitti offers, and Kusa’s eyes go wide.
“Soothsayer?” Kusa squeaks.
Kusa bursts out of the Soothsayer’s hut squealing and Chitti follows behind laughing.
“IDIOT RASCAL!” Chitti yells. “You can’t steal from a Soothsayer!”
“That’s no Soothsayer ! I have more magic in my foot than her!” Kusa cackles and runs faster.
“What if she curses you!” Chitti screeches.
Kusa stops and turns, Chitti nearly runs into him but stops too. Kusa puffs out his chest and holds his fists at his waist like a hero.
“No silly curse can stop me!” Kusa bellows.
Chitti laughs breathlessly and shoves Kusa playfully. Kusa winces and clutches himself in pain but laughs and bounces back to knock his shoulder into Chitti’s chest. They go back and forth shoving, until they eventually fall to the dirt road and start wrestling. Chitti is grateful he was quick enough to place the snake basket down before he pounced. They laugh and cough and shove and get filthy with the dusty dirt under their palms. Chitti loves to play like this and Kusa is very good at it.
Chitti eventually ends up on top, his hands pinning Kusa’s wrist to the ground and his thighs straddling Kusa’s hips. Kusa grins, warm and flushed. Chitti laughs and flexes his biceps, very proud to have won. Forgetting to hold Kusa’s wrists down, Kusa flips them and starts off running again. Chitti has to grab his basket before he can join.
“Nothing can hold me!” Kusa yells back and Chitti sets off running to catch him.
The forest is bright and alive, everything is so green. Kusa likes it. It feels nice to be somewhere different, and somewhat far from the village. The walk isn’t too long and Chitti is great company. They talked their way here, about their lives, about the food they like, about Chitti’s family and Kusa’s old life in Hyderabad . Chitti wonders why Kusa doesn’t talk about his brothers.
Chitti likes the forest, the insects like to sing to each other, and the birds too. They talk and cry like people in the village, do but they are louder and happier. Chitti’s fingers brush thin leaves and rough twigs, and trails that way behind him as they walk. He shows Kusa where the poison greens are, and to step away from them. He plucks at the fruit you can eat and describes the ones you can't. Kusa finds a stick and grabs it, they both do, swatting at weeds playfully as they walk. Kusa takes in a deep breath and calls out a sound that imitates a monkey, they both laugh and repeat the sound into the echoing air until the wind dies in their lungs.
Eventually, Chitti stops and picks a spot, the ground is soft and there is water nearby. Chitti tells Kusa to stand behind him and places the snake basket in front of them. Kusa obeys, and Chitti flicks the lid off towards him. The shimmering snake jumps out like a coiled spring. She dashes off into the underbrush and slithers away, shooting out leaves and pebbles as she runs.
“Hmm. She is strong. She will be okay.” Kusa says, and clicks his tongue.
Chitti knows better how hard the world will be for her, but he lets himself imagine that Kusa is right.
“What can we do now?” Kusa asks brightly, spinning his stick, his vest nearly soaked in sweat and his hair sticking up wildly from the humidity.
“It’s hot! Let’s go!” Chitti yells and runs off, Kusa laughing behind him.
♫ Chitti runs into the small lake first, diving when he finally reaches a good depth. The water is cold and feels wonderful on his sticky skin. He lets himself float for a moment, letting the water rush through his hair and limbs. When he finally pushes up through the surface, he watches as Kusa runs full speed to join him, diving and splashing with laughter.
They play and laugh and paddle around each other like guppies. They eventually find a rope to swing from, jumping into the clear cool water like children. They find a high rock to leap off of too. Chitti waits in the water as Kusa struggles to climb, but bashfully enjoys the view. Kusa’s body is bigger, not in muscle, but in shape. His shoulders are round and wide, and so is his chest and his belly. Chitti likes it.
Kusa’s nipples are pink and his chest is covered in dark, curled fur. Chitti feels his cheeks and ears grow warm and knows it’s not the summer heat. They are both dressed only in their Langotis and Chitti knows if he squints he can see what Kusa has behind wet, thin fabric. Chitti does feel a little shame at that and tries to look away as Kusa makes it to the top of the small cliff.
They take turns jumping, crashing into the lake like falling coconuts until all the movement tires them out. The sun is past the middle of the sky, but Chitti doesn’t want to leave yet. They let themselves float lazily in the water and continue to talk about anything and everything they can think of.
“My Annaya would take us here all the time as children!” Chitti sniffs and pulls at the water running down his face.
“Your brothers might like it.” Chitti offers lightly. Kusa’s face pinches and he shrugs. He seems to think for a moment, his expression wary.
“My brother is sick right now. Very sick. My other brother is helping him.” Kusa says it vaguely and almost too low for Chitti to hear. Chitti wonders why Kusa is here, instead of helping a sick brother.
Chitti moves through the water slowly, tiny ripples lapping at his long beard. His eyes sparkle as they reflect the water and his wet lips look flat enough to kiss. Kusa looks small all of a sudden, unable to meet Chitti’s eyes. Chitti takes a breath and swims forward, wrapping his arms around Kusa gently, holding him close, and humming.
“I am sorry your brother is sick.” Chitti whispers.
Kusa holds him tenderly, his cheek pressed to Chitti’s shoulder and his wide hands on Chitti’s wet back. They float together for a moment and Chitti enjoys the warmth of it. Kusa’s body feels nice in his arms, his skin now cool and wet, and he smells good too. Chitti wants to stay in the hug forever, wants to graze his lips over Kusa’s shoulder and tickle him with his beard. Chitti doesn’t. Chitti knows the trouble there could be if he does. Chitti lets go and pulls away with a deep breath.
“It’s not safe to stay too late in the forest. We should go back now.” Chitti mumbles.
Kusa’s expression is different and hard to read.
They dry by the time they make it to the little boat that will take them across the Godavar i, and back to the village. It’s dark now, and the moon and stars glitter above them. Kusa feels calm for the first time in weeks, but Chitti is nervous. They make it to the bank, and Chitti ties his small boat to a post in the sand. Kusa makes his way up a grassy hill and yelps as he plops down on it. Chitti moves slowly to join him, and they watch the sky together.
It’s quiet at first, Chitti has a million things stuffed in his mind and Kusa looks tired. Chitti’s had this feeling before, and every time he gets hurt. He realized when he was young, that he felt this way about other boys, that he wanted more than just friendship from them. Then he learned that people thought it was wrong, and he would always have to hide it. It doesn’t feel wrong, but it did to the men who his heart eventually chose.
Those men would call on Chitti, tell him sweet things, kiss him and hold him, then marry women and disappear. Chitti promised never to lie like that, he doesn’t know how long he can keep rejecting matches, but he won’t marry a woman with a lie. He won’t tie false knots. Chitti turns to watch Kusa rest in the long grass. He isn’t sure but, maybe Kusa is like him in this way too.
“It’s a new moon.” Kusa says and points to the sky. “The lovers are here.”
Chitti’s brows pinch as Kusa turns to him.
“Mitra and Varuna. My Amma would tell their story at night. She thought it was romantic. They are two halves of the moon, and when they meet-“ Kusa makes a circle with his hands “-they make love.”
“What happens when the moon isn’t full?” Chitti asks in a low voice.
“They are separated.” Kusa says wistfully and pulls his hands apart. “Until it is full again.”
“Like our snakes.” Chitti sighs. Kusa barks a laugh and smiles.
“No, no. Mitra and Varuna are men .” Kusa waggles his eyebrows and smirks. Chitti’s stomach leaps and his ears go warm again.
Chitti’s brain is stuffed even tighter, and he doesn’t know what else to say. He opens his mouth to ask the question that beats against his skull when Kusa yells out and jumps up.
“I see him! It’s him!” Kusa sequels and starts off running. Chitti jumps up too, and sees what Kusa chases. A small black snake slithers through the grass and jumps onto the sandy bank.
“It’s him, isn’t it? That dead snake wasn’t her mate!” Kusa declares as he runs.
Chitti isn’t sure, it’s dark in the field and he can’t quite see, but perhaps he spots a mark, where a mongoose may have bit it. Eventually, the snake makes it to the shore, and to both of their surprise, jumps into the river and swims away. They both stop and pant into the air, watching as the dark water ripples out.
“He is going to her, isn’t he. He will find her in the forest.” Kusa sounds so sure, he sounds so full of hope.
Chitti wants to believe it, he wants to believe things always end up happy, that love is powerful enough for it. Kusa’s bright soul and hopeful smile make him want to believe it. Chitti watches Kusa, his eyes are so open and clear, they sparkle and make Chitti feel safe. Kusa could convince Chitti that everything will be okay, even when Chitti knows it won't. Kusa moves closer to Chitti, his breathing still heavy.
“What can we do now?” Kusa asks gently. “I don’t want to go home.”
“I’m not sure. This village is only farms and the river.” Chitti’s mouth pinches a bit, fumbling over his thoughts.
Kusa steps closer and huffs a laugh, he shrugs and looks to his feet then back to Chitti. Kusa's mouth is wet, and his body radiates a scent that's warm and spicy, it comes from all the walking, and the water in the lake, and the damp in the grass. Chitti flares his nostrils and sways toward him imperceptibly. Kusa smells good, Chitti likes it.
Kusa looks good too, his eyes are round like the moon, his nose flushed almost pink. Chitti wonders why his skin is so light that it looks like starlight, maybe it's hard to find the sun in Hyderabad . Even Kusa's lips are pink, wet too from Kusa's tongue. Chitti's eyes flick to them, then back to Kusa's eyes. Kusa huffs another laugh and smiles, making his cheeks bright and eyes playful.
“We could fuck.” Kusa breathes.
Chitti’s brain melts in his skull. It takes a good long moment to process the words, so long that Chitti tugs on his ear in confusion.
“WE COULD FUCK!” Kusa yells, then starts laughing.
Chitti is so struck that he can’t find the words to respond. He stands a bit frozen, his breath picking up, excited, afraid, and unsure. Kusa starts to look worried, his body shifts, and his hands move nervously.
“Sorry, if you don’t-“ Kusa starts but doesn’t finish.
Chitti leaps at him, his mouth latching onto Kusa’s eagerly. The kiss is a hard press at first but softens immediately into something easy and wet. Kusa breathes a laugh between kisses and Chitti whimpers. Their hands find each other, roaming everywhere. Chitti presses their bodies together close and moans as Kusa pushes his tongue into the kiss.
It feels so good, it's a very good kiss. Electricity surges through Chitti's blood, and thrums under his nerves. Arousal jumps like lightning between his legs, and he feels everything swell. Chitti’s body presses close, his nipples under his thin shirt rub against Kusa’s broad chest and he whimpers again. Then, suddenly, fear spikes, and Chitti pulls away sharply with a smack.
“Are you going to have a wife !?” Chitti asks, his fists tight in Kusa’s mesh vest, his breath heavy, and his eyes angry.
“Eh?!” Kusa is laughing again, confused. Chitti growls.
“You will kiss me? And fuck me? And keep it a little secret from a wife?” Chitti spits. Kusa's face twists and he swears.
“ Chee! I don’t do that! I will marry someone I love!” Kusa pushes a hand between Chitti’s legs and grabs a handful of his cock through Chitti’s lungi. Kusa’s thumb and palm push and rub. Chitti's eyes flutter at the pressure and his face softens.
“I don’t care what they have right here.” Kusa growls low and hot, against Chitti’s mouth.
They are kissing again and Chitti’s heart soars. It’s more than he could have hoped for, every sensation, every touch, every brush of Kusa’s tongue. It’s heavy and it’s fast. Kusa's mustache feels good against his own and their beards scratch against each other. The sensation is pleasant compared to the slick slide of their mouths. Chitti’s arms and elbows wrap around Kusa’s shoulders and neck, he wants to press against Kusa harder, he wants more.
They push back into the long grass and tumble down together, pulling at their Lungis and Langotis . Kusa has his vest pulled up and so does Chitti. It’s wild and fast and Kusa is on top. He grunts as he moves. It’s loud, and Chitti wants to hear more. He groans at the weight of Kusa, the size, and shape of him. It feels good to have a strong man in his arms again, it feels right.
Their mouths move and their tongues lick. It’s hot and humid in the space between them, and suddenly they are sliding against each other. Kusa groans at the tender contact, his cock aching as they move. Chitti grunts and rotates his hips against the man above him. Their balls, now fat and full, press against each other and they both shudder at the sensation. Chitti's hand wanders down there to cup them both. Kusa sucks at the drool pooled on his lip and groans again, Chitti's hand feels so good and his hips start to make pace.
It’s hot and slick under their bellies and Chitti watches with flushed cheeks as Kusa thrusts against him. Chitti finds Kusa’s nipples under thick chest hair and tugs until Kusa yelps. Chitti bites at Kusa’s neck and smells him there, before licking and kissing. Kusa does the same. He finds Chitti’s ear and laps at it, biting and tugging on the lobe until Chitti whines. They apologize to each other with their mouths and tongues, lapping at each other like they’re thirsty.
Kusa babbles periodically, tells Chitti he’s sexy, he’s beautiful, he feels good. Chitti isn’t used to so much praise, he only hums and puts his hand back between them. He strokes and tugs at tender flesh, now slick and hard like silk over steel. Both of them leaking, both their foreskin tight and stretched back. The hair there feels good too, coarse and curled, a pleasant sensation against thin skin.
Chitti feels how they press together, the shape of their cocks almost like the crescent moons of the lovers. Chitti almost laughs when he thinks it but then Kusa is biting his neck and the pressure builds too high, too fast. Chitti lets his knees draw up, his legs spread wide, the friction feels so good, and Kusa’s hips slump down to fit closer.
Kusa speeds up, letting his hand wander too, stroking their wet cocks together, huffing happy sounds, and latching his mouth to any available patch of skin he can find. Chitti is clutching Kusa now, he gets desperate all of a sudden, he wants Kusa closer, he wants to hide and feel held. Kusa’s face does something complicated and colors with emotion. It’s flushed and bright, and he thrusts even faster, erratic.
“I think I love you!” Kusa blurts, his voice pinched and full of tenderness. Chitti arches his back and wails as he cums.
They both watch in amazement as their cocks spurt together, twin white lines shooting out onto Chitti’s belly, Kusa stroking them both wildly. The orgasms are powerful for both of them. They both tremble and convulse, the tremendous wash of pleasure feels like a rolling wave, passing back and forth through the both of them. It washes on the shores of Chitti’s core and then pushes into the tide of Kusa’s heart.
Eventually, their waters still, and Kusa slumps on top of Chitti with a happy hum. Chitti wonders how this all happened so fast, how his heart can ache and twist for someone he just met. He presses a hand to Kusa’s trembling neck, feeling the dampness and the soft short hair. Chitti presses his lips to the skin and whispers against it.
“I think I love you too.”
And so now, months later, they run together through the fields, chasing each other’s hearts, silly, and in love.
When they finally find the ground, to lie together and prove it, Kusa will wrap himself around Chitti, and rest his head near the engineer’s chest, memorizing the beat of his heart. It mimics the clutter of birds and the rustle of the wind. The sun is low and they can feel it under a dim sky. Kusa feels straw on his feet and lets the sensation of pollen wash his skin.
“I can take you away from here Chinni . We can get married in America, and I will take care of you.” Sometimes Kusa will whisper it so Chitti can’t hear, but when he doesn’t, Chitti always replies the same.
“I can’t leave my family. This is my home.” Chitti will kiss Kusa to soothe the ache, and Kusa will squeeze him tight, hoping one day, Chitti will change his mind.
Cherry is grateful to have chores and responsibilities to keep him busy. If he didn’t, he thinks he would go mad with the anxiety of this whole mess. Leaving Jai in that bed that night was hard, but leaving his Chirutha behind was even harder. Still, Cherry doesn’t regret either decision. He needs Jai to prove it this time, no more games, no more secrets.
Today Cherry has his chores, and they are fairly simple. Rangamma needs rice and milk from the market. Cherry carries a small basket on his back and walks himself there. The day is sunny and alive, and even the heavy heat feels pleasant. Cherry decides he likes the sounds of birds and chickens, just as much as honking horns and the call to prayer. Even the crunch of pebbles and dirt under his feet sounds like a song.
He does like this village, everyone is fairly friendly. He gets many hellos, apparently, he already has a good reputation. Being trustworthy enough to work under Rangamma is a high virtue amongst her neighbors. A woman gives Cherry a jar of her homemade Mango Pickle to take home, and her children wave happily at Cherry as he thanks her. Cherry stops to help a man carry a large sack of grain, and he thanks Cherry with a small packet of Jaggery for Rangamma.
“Tell her to make you something sweet.” The man rasps and winks. Cherry laughs softly and sways his head.
Not everyone in the village is friendly. The group of men who work for the village President don’t seem to like Cherry very much, or at least, don’t trust the new member of their village. Chitti told Cherry they are rotten and to stay wary around them. Cherry decides to stay away completely.
Cherry eventually makes it to the market and buys a small sack of rice before stopping at Dharani’s milk stand. Dharani smiles warmly and Cherry offers a simple Namaste . Cherry asks for five bags of milk, and as Dharani grabs them, Cherry removes the small delivery from his basket. Dharani looks confused as Cherry places a large bundle of Saree fabrics on the small market counter, tied neatly with twine.
“Rangamma asked me to bring you this for-” Cherry pauses for a moment, trying to remember the name “-Vennela?”
Dharani’s face shifts through several different emotions and settles on a shy smile. When Dharani speaks, Cherry realizes his accent is different, it’s thicker, and Cherry remembers Rangamma mentioning Dharani and his family come for a coal town.
“T-Thank her for me, Vennela will be happy.” Dharani smiles wider now and places the bundle inside of his stand gently. Cherry clears his throat and presses a large wad of Rupees to the counter when Dharani turns back.
“For the milk.” Cherry offers but knows it’s much more than the cost. It seems Dharani knows too and looks at the money confused again.
“Too much!” Dharani protests and tries to shove the money back, but Cherry doesn’t take it.
“She said for your Pillalu!” Cherry counters and Dharani goes quiet. He hesitates to argue, but his head shakes again, making his long curls bounce.
“No no! It’s too kind! It’s too much!” Dharani tries again, waving the Rupees in the air, trying to hand them back.
Cherry hops back from the stand, stuffing the milk into his basket, and rushes away before Dharani can stop him. He hears the milk vendor call for him, but Cherry is too quick and laughs to himself at the kindness of neighbors. He doesn’t get far before he spots a new neighbor, one he recognizes.
It’s Shatru, definitely, but his hair looks different, perhaps wilted from the sun. Cherry waves to him sheepishly and Shatru’s face pinches. Cherry walks to him and says hello again. This time Cherry realizes Shatru looks lost and confused, like he doesn’t recognize Cherry.
“Shatru? Do I look so different?” Cherry laughs. Shatru’s expression shifts to annoyance, and he huffs before rolling his eyes.
“No, Kasi.” Shatru says and points to himself.
It’s Cherry’s turn to be confused. Shatru rolls his eyes again and turns to shout his own name. The confusion clears as a man comes out from the house with a matching face to the man Cherry was speaking to. Cherry snorts as he recognizes Shatru’s hair and hard expression, one that drops the moment he sees Cherry.
“Little Beetle!” Shatru yells and jogs towards Cherry with a smile. Cherry isn’t sure if Shatru would be happy to see him, but he is quickly scooped into a tight hug. Cherry feels his feet lift off the ground and laughs at Shatru’s excitement. It doesn’t last long, Cherry is quickly dropped and Shatru lets out a gasp.
“Was that you?! Causing the trouble in the market with Jai?!” Shatru asks. Cherry isn't surprised everyone knows, he's heard small villages are like that. Cherry sways his head tightly and lets out a sigh.
"Well, good." Shatru hums and motions for Cherry to join him near the porch.
There are low stools to sit on, a radio playing old songs, and a low table for Pachisi. Shatru introduces two men at the table as his brothers, then turns to the mistaken Shatru and calls him Kasi. Cherry scoffs at the misunderstanding.
"Jai and I share more than our childhoods." Shatru laughs and Kasi rolls his eyes.
"He looks like- OOUF!" Kasi grunts as Shatru knocks him on the back playfully.
"Twins." Cherry mumbles to himself, he wonders if everyone on earth has secret twin siblings.
Cherry and Shatru sit with his brothers and Shatru pulls out a Beedi to light between his teeth. Cherry has never been a smoker, it’s not something Jai would have liked, but as Shatru takes a pull and hands it out, Cherry accepts it with a smile and shares. Cherry knows to inhale gently but still coughs a few times and makes Shatru laugh, a large palm on his back rubbing.
Kasi hands them both small cups of watery toddy and they drink and talk under the sun. It’s small things at first, Shatru and Kasi’s childhood with Jai on the streets, their sick father and strong mother. Cherry likes it, he’s always like Shatru and it feels good to meet his brothers, to make friends with men who aren’t like Jai. Eventually, the conversation shifts and Shatru looks nervous.
“I am sorry, about that day. I was afraid you-“ Shatru starts, but Cherry interrupts him.
“I know.” Cherry sways his head kindly and gives Shatru a tight smile.
“That place was hard to live in. It’s good it’s empty now.” Cherry takes a pull of the Beedi and exhales slowly. The sun beats harder on his back and he hears insects buzz around them. Shatru only nods and Kasi pulls at a strand of his hair to twist.
“You did that.” Shatru says. Cherry’s face turns, and Shatru smiles.
“You pulled him inside out, we all saw it.” Shatru’s smile widens, his teeth showing and his eyes bright. Cherry wants to blush, but the implications weigh heavy on his heart.
“I wasn’t, he-“ Cherry babbles, feeling embarrassed.
“Rohini was one of us, broken like us, and afraid to fix it.” Shatru pauses to pull on the Beedi .
“When Jai was with her, it didn’t feel different. She would be there with us until she wasn’t. We didn’t know until the end, how badly she wanted to stay.” Shatru sounds wistful, transported back to a painful memory, a painful time. He inhales sharply to bring himself back.
“You were different.” Shatru continues “He hid you.”
Cherry’s face opens up, listening intently. It sounds right. Cherry’s time with Jai was so protected, he was never asked to be around with Jai and his men, they were always separate. Cherry had always thought this was for control, or out of shame.
“He wanted to keep you safe and locked away.” Shatru muses, almost to himself.
“You were better than Lanka, you were a place where he could be happy. I think it scared him.” Shatru pinches the end of the Beedi, saving it for later with the others in a small tin.
“I think so too.” Cherry whispers.
They talk for a bit longer, but the conversation is clipped. Eventually Cherry takes his leave with a short hug and the basket on his back.
Cherry feels lighter on the walk back, and the buzzing insects serenade his way home.
Cherry is only home for a few hours before he hears a rumble outside of Rangamma’s house. He steps out to find Chitti at her fence on his motorbike, wearing a new pair of bright goggles. Cherry laughs and bounces out to say hello.
“I’m on my way home!” Chitti yells “Came over to say hello!”
Cherry laughs again and flicks at Chitti’s goggles.
“Hey! They are good!” Chitti laughs. “Very expensive.”
Cherry pats at the bike basket and Chitti puts both his feet on the road to inch the bike closer with wobbling legs. When he reaches Cherry he starts to move himself in a circle, trapping Cherry in the road and smiling at his new friend.
“We should go somewhere instead.” Chitti offers and clicks his tongue. “You and me! Me and my Thammudu .”
Cherry scoffs at the endearment. They’ve only just met and already Chitti is calling him a little brother.
“I’ve never had one! You are just the right size.” Chitti jokes and Cherry tries to smack him as he continues to swerve in a circle.
“I’ve never had one either, but you are too short to be my Annaya !” Cherry retorts, and Chitti screeches. Chitti opens his mouth to bite back when they hear a wild laugh coming from down the road.
Kusa appears like a fluttering mirage, whipping down the dirt road at full speed and cackling with excitement.
“Jigelu Raani!! Jigelu Raani!!" Kusa shouts and waves his arms.
Chitti's face lights up and he starts to hop happily on his bike, his smile wide and his hair bouncing. He starts to laugh as Kusa runs up and sneaks a quick kiss on his cheek before jumping on the back of his bike. Kusa finally realizes Cherry is with Chitti and yells at him to join them. Kusa lifts up and pushes himself to sit back further, leaving a seat open between himself and Chitti, his bottom nearly entirely in the back basket.
"Cherries! Cherries!" Kusa shouts and bounces on the bike, making Chitti bounce too, and laugh at the movement. They both start to hop together, chanting in sync.
"Jigelu Raani!! Jigelu Raani!!" They squeal. Cherry covers his face in his hands and laughs.
"What is that?!" Cherry shouts back.
"The Dazzle Queen!" Kusa shouts. "She comes to the canteen every month to dance. Everyone goes!"
"There's a canteen?!" Cherry gasps. Both men nod happily and Kusa starts to bounce again.
Cherry looks to Rangamma's home and bites his lip. His chores are done, he has his wallet. He huffs a happy laugh and swipes Chitti’s goggles from his face to slide them on his own. He hops between both men to sit and they both cheer wildly.
It takes a moment for the bike to get going with all the extra weight, but once it does, it putters along under the setting sun.
♫ This canteen is like a cave too, like the one near Jai’s Haveli. But, this one is lit warmly and full of laughter. Chitti seems to know every person here, and they all buzz with excitement for their Dazzle Queen.
When she does arrive, to a crowd going wild, Cherry understands the excitement. Their queen stands tall and beautiful with striking features and startling eyes. She dances like the wave of a flame and every man chases after her warmth.
Chitti and Kusa seem to be the only ones able to match her energy. The three of them dance together seamlessly, and Cherry watches with a smile as the crowd cheers them on. They move like a veritable Trimurti of wild expression. Their Dazzle Queen dances for the crowd too, catching Cherry with a hooked finger on his chin. Cherry laughs and blushes, and when The Queen finds new partners to entertain, Chitti and Kusa rope Cherry in to join them.
Cherry can dance, but he feels like an amateur compared to the wild and complicated moves Chitti and Kusa mimic next to him. They watch each other with a heat, sometimes straight through Cherry between them. Cherry has fun regardless, his blood surges with energy and his heart pumps to the beat of the canteen’s drums. He still feels like he fits with them, they wink and laugh and grab at him as they dance, and he feels like they see him how Rishi saw him.
The night is a haze of noise, dancing, and drinking. It flies by in a blur of laughter and stories. Cherry catches Kusa with his hand on Chitti’s lower back, rubbing in circles. He watches Chitti’s eyes go soft and tender when Kusa rambles and speaks close to his ear. A stranger would think it’s so Chitti can hear Kusa over all the noise, but Cherry knows better. Cherry’s own heart softens at how clearly in love they are and is surprised it doesn’t hurt. He is having fun, and for a moment, his heart doesn’t ache thinking about Jai. Even Kusa, once difficult to look at, starts to look less and less like Jai as the night goes on, and more and more like Kusa.
Eventually, the crowd dwindles, the music fades, and the night calls them home. They stumble out together and Cherry realizes Chitti may have had too much to drink. Kusa only laughs sweetly and hoists his sleepy engineer onto his back. Alone at the entrance to the canteen, Kusa speaks with Cherry as Chitti snores on his shoulder.
“You are good, I can tell. Chitti doesn’t like people who aren’t good.” Kusa declares with a smile. Cherry laughs and tries not to blush.
“Whatever he did, my stupid brother.” Kusa licks his lips, his voice going firm. “It must have been bad, to push someone so good away.”
Cherry’s throat tightens and he looks to his feet. The comment is kind but it hurts to think about it.
“Make him work hard.” Kusa advises. “Don’t let it be easy! He is stubborn, but his heart is soft.”
Cherry wants to agree, to tell Kusa he knows, but he only notches his head firmly, listening closely to the older, kind man in the silly outfit. Kusa sways his head back and turns to their ride, shifting Chitti in his arms.
“I can’t drive the bike.” Kusa laughs. “Can you get us home?”
Cherry pretends not to hear Kusa whisper My Jigelu Raaja into Chitti’s ear on the drive back.
When Cherry finally get’s back home, Rangamma is waiting up for him. She reprimands him with a smile, scolding him for staying out late with wild boys. He smiles and apologizes but she forces him to stay up and eat something before going to sleep.
Jai reminds himself of Harshali’s advice. Simple and slow, be gentle. He had lied about who exactly he needed to reconnect to, but Jai assumed if the advice was good enough for a distant brother, it would be good enough for the man he loves. The man he hurt.
Jai takes an anxious breath as he passes Rangamma’s gate, grateful that she will be gone today until dinner. He makes his way to the door, and rattles the porch chimes gently, worried that knocking might be a bit too aggressive.
Cherry takes a few moments but pulls the door open slowly, it creaks and whines and reveals a set of sleepy eyes, timid at the person he finds on his porch. Cherry only lets it open wide enough to see through and hides the rest of himself inside. Jai tries to smile, hoping to settle both of their nerves and holds up the Tiffin he carries.
“I thought- I was not sure if you are getting lunch.” Jai’s voice is raspy and deep and Cherry’s shoulders seem to relax as he eyes the silver Dabba . Jai swallows and tries to be patient.
”It is your favorite Pandu.” Jai whispers and smiles as Cherry’s eyes go soft, and his nostrils flare to smell the lemon rice.
Cherry decides the gesture is sweet and finally relaxes enough to let the door open fully. When Jai moves to try and come in, Cherry stops him with pursed lips.
“Outside. The porch is nice with the shade.” Cherry’s voice is firm but not angry.
Jai nods once, happy to receive the invite. Cherry tells Jai to wait, and moves around inside the house, returning with a clean rug for them to sit on. Cherry unfolds it gently and Jai helps him spread it out evenly. They both remove their thongs and fold themselves to sit down. Jai serves them both on small round pans he brought with the Dabba and Cherry finally smiles.
Jai still feels a rush of warmth around him. It had always been there, even in that first moment, in the mud and thunder. Cherry’s strength, his courage, the way his eyes shone in the rain. Jai thinks he loved him even then. Cherry hums happily as he eats his rice and Jai’s chest goes even warmer.
Jai watches him softly, taking small bites, not wanting the short lunch to end. He wants to hear Cherry’s voice again but is unsure of how to start talking, what questions to ask. He tries to hum, to catch Cherry’s attention away from the food, but it comes out quiet and unsure. Cherry finally pulls his eyes from his plate and scoffs.
”Don’t look so afraid.” Cherry teases. “I’ve already crawled into your bed.”
Cherry rolls his eyes and lowers them, pressing chutney into his rice and smiling. Jai doesn’t usually blush, but he feels like doing it now.
”Do y-y-you need anything?” Jai asks awkwardly. Cherry’s brows furrow and he looks at his plate.
”This is fine.” Cherry quips, referencing the food.
”No.” Jai tilts his head at the misunderstanding. “Here, in Ra-Rangasthalam . Do you need money?”
Jai winces at his own question. He wants to know if Cherry is okay, if he has everything he needs, if Jai can be useful. Cherry considers the question with a flash of frustration but seems to decide to let it pass.
”No,” Cherry deadpans, then tries to laugh. “I have more than enough from those stupid crowns.”
Jai takes a breath in, the mention of that night a sting in his heart, but Cherry smiles mischievously and licks his bottom lip of errant rice. Jai’s nerves ease, choosing to enjoy the playful moment.
”I’m afraid to ask how much you made off the bike.” Jai quips, and lets himself take a bigger bite of rice.
”Eh, almost nothing, should have just given it away.” Cherry stuffs more rice into his mouth and smiles wider. Jai smiles too.
”It was all yours. I’m just glad it k-kept you safe.” Jai means it.
He had worried the morning after that Cherry had nowhere to go, not enough money to find a place to stay. It was something Jai’s torn heart hadn’t considered in the heat of the moment. He had been relieved the next day to find all of it missing, knowing at least Cherry wouldn’t starve. Cherry doesn’t find the comment as comforting. His face pinches and he lowers his gaze back to his food. Jai starts to panic and tries to fix the mistake.
”I don’t care how much you have, or how mu-mu-much you take. I will give you anything you ask me for.” Jai lets out a small breath, happy that the words made their way out.
Cherry’s eyes widen and then soften, it seems to settle an ache in him and his expression turns sweet.
”Always romantic.” Cherry rasps. Jai wants to kiss him.
They return to their food. Jai appreciates the silence for a moment, the warm air, and fluttering leaves. He admires the easy chatter of their neighbors and the various sounds of families living close to each other. He remembers Cherry saying he wanted this kind of life at some point. Jai wonders if he still does.
“I fell apart without you.” Jai blurts. Cherry coughs, nearly choking on a clove.
Jai reaches forward to put a hand on his back, rubbing as Cherry recovers quickly. Cherry twists himself to get away, frustrated with the touch.
“Good!” Cherry says in a hoarse voice. “It wasn’t easy for me!”
Cherry lets out a noise and drops his plate. Jai falters for a moment but sets his own food down and keeps talking. He talks about Lanka without Cherry, about the failed campaign, and finding his brothers. He talks about the pain and anger, the terror of Lava’s love. Cherry wants to stay angry but he listens, he sits in silence and lets Jai talk.
Jai confesses to kidnapping Priya and dodging Simran’s poisoning, finding his uncle again, then the bomb, and the fight with Sarkar. He sighs before he talks about the drive in the car. It feels so long ago but he talks about dying, lying in Lava’s arms. Jai swallows and tries to describe that feeling.
“You were all I wanted. I can’t explain it be-better. When I was dying, you were all I wanted.” Jai finishes.
Cherry takes in a deep breath and shudders it out. The thought of Jai dying registers badly and he struggles to sit with it. His brows turn down and he thinks.
“Tapan and Sekhar died, and you found out your brothers were alive.” Cherry says it like he’s putting together puzzle pieces like he wants it to make sense. Jai is grateful Cherry doesn’t mention that Jai killed Sekhar.
“You can’t hurt people just because you are afraid.” Cherry decides, his voice trembling. “What happens next time? You will hit me again? You will leave me?”
“No. Never.” Jai’s voice is low and strong but his eyes go wet, and his body stiffens.
“How do you know? How can I be sure!?” Cherry’s voice has an edge to it now, he sounds scared.
“I we-went to someone. She is helping me.” Jai speaks quickly before his throat tightens over.
“How? Who?” Cherry whispers, his posture going loose and his eyes wider.
“She’s a Yogini. She helps with pain.” Jai says.
He feels lost on how to explain it, not sure what words to use or how to describe why he needs her. Cherry’s brows pinch and he thinks, taking the new information seriously.
“Like therapy?” Cherry asks softly.
Jai swallows and smiles, relieved by how easy it is for Cherry to understand him sometimes. Jai sways his head awkwardly and slumps, he’s so tired, he suddenly wants to sleep.
“It was hard.” Jai confesses in a rasp.
He knows how important this conversation is, that it's about Cherry, but it was hard, and this is hard, and all he wants is to hold Cherry and have all this tension disappear. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, he knows he looks pathetic, he feels that way too. Cherry only looks at his food. He picks the pan of food up again, sitting it gently over his lap. Then he looks up, thinking again.
“is the pain- Is it about Mounisha?” Cherry asks and goes back to eating.
Jai’s heart squeezes and his eyes go wide. A thousand thoughts race through his mind. He thinks for a wild moment that he had told Cherry about it and forgot, but no, he remembers how much it hurt to keep her from him, how badly he did want to tell Cherry, but could never drag the words out.
“H-How did you-“ Jai starts to ask, but Cherry interrupts him.
“Tapan.” Cherry says simply after swallowing. “He came to me after Sekhar’s funeral. He wanted me to know why Shatru had hit me.”
Jai’s body flares in anger, his face goes dark and Cherry sees it.
“That was my story to tell you. Tapan shouldn’t of-“ Jai is interrupted again.
“Why?! She was their sister too! Tapan said that you are sometimes selfish with feelings. He’s right!” Cherry eats angrily now, his mouth full and chewing fast.
“I wanted to know about Jeevi.” Cherry’s voice cracks, his mouth so full that tiny bits of rice start to tumble out with each new bite.
“You wouldn’t tell me!” Cherry yells and eats faster.
Cherry keeps trying to shove more food in to stop the tears that threaten to spill out but starts to cough and gag, wet half chewed yellow rice dropping to the rug under him. Jai grunts and grabs for him.
“Stop!” Jai rasps, his own eyes wet. He uses his Lungi to grab at Cherry’s cheeks and push the food out. “You’re going to fucking choke!”
Cherry struggles against him, crying now, scrabbling to get away, throwing his hands out between the tussle to grab at the Dabba and eat more, knocking everything over and getting food and chutney on their clothing.
“No! I’m hungry!’ Cherry screeches.
They wrestle for a moment, the situation ridiculous. Cherry is strong, and Jai grunts to get his weight over him. He finally gets Cherry locked in a stronghold, nearly half in his lap, staring into his angry eyes. Cherry holds a fist full of rice and Jai holds that wrist in an iron grip. Cherry huffs and his wrist trembles, trying to get the rice closer to his mouth. Cherry opens his mouth wide, his tongue ring showing, his neck stretching to reach the rice.
Jai wonders for a moment how loud they are, if anyone can see them fighting, what would the neighbors think? He realizes how wild they must look, and instead of pulling Cherry into the house to hide, Jai starts to laugh. It’s a real laugh, deep in his belly. Cherry screeches again, biting in mid-air, snapping his teeth, rice, and turmeric all over his mouth. Jai keeps laughing and the sound is enough to finally disarm Cherry. He starts to pout and slits his eyes in annoyance.
♫ “I love you so much.” Jai breathes, his smile and eyes bright.
Cherry’s expression falls, he sighs and finally gives in, slumping into Jai’s hold and pushing in for a kiss. It’s slow and sloppy, with rice, turmeric, and chutney on Cherry’s teeth. Jai doesn’t care, every single kiss Cherry will give him is bliss. Jai pushes his tongue in and grabs Cherry properly, scooping him into his lap, the mess they made all around them.
Cherry whimpers and drops his fistful of rice, letting it tumble into Jai’s lungi. Cherry pushes a sticky hand through Jai’s hair and smears rice there too. Jai laughs again but keeps kissing him. Their noses bump and press and their lips flush under their mustaches. It's hot and wet, and tastes like lemon and mustard, and Jai has never been so happy.
Cherry eventually breaks the kiss and flops against Jai’s chest, making himself small to hide in Jai’s silhouette. He grabs at Jai’s hand greedily and stuffs Jai’s index finger in his mouth, putting his teeth to it gently without biting, then laving his tongue over it and sucking. He missed the taste of Jai, he missed Jai's smell, the texture of Jai’s callused skin, and fingerprints on his tongue. Jai hums then presses his nose to Cherry’s hair and inhales before moving to kiss his crown.
Cherry sniffles and kisses each finger, studying Jai’s hand intently, putting his teeth to the knuckles and pulling on his wrist. He eventually just grips it and starts biting at Jai’s vest and chest, hiding from Jai's eyes in his body, pushing his face there to try and disappear. Jai has nothing left to say, he lets Cherry do whatever he wants and enjoys the attention. Cherry eventually wilts fully, letting his body rest against warm muscle with a huff.
“I am sorry about her, your sister.” Cherry breathes, his voice hoarse. Jai hums.
“Sometimes you remind me of her.” Jai confesses without thinking, his eyes lidded, drunk off the embrace. Cherry’s head shoots up, his brows turn down and his eyes widen.
“Not like that.” Jai laughs. “She was wild like you, s-s-strong and brave. She would have loved you too.”
Something sad flashes over Cherry’s expression and his lip wobbles, he turns his head back against Jai’s chest and kisses it over the vest. He lets his hand wander, brushing against Jai's chest hair that peaks out near his neck.
"I am s-sorry I was so hard to talk to." Jai grunts, his face pained. Cherry turns up to watch him and sighs with his nose.
"It's hard for me to say things. Not just be-be-because of-" Jai moves his hand to his throat again, petting and squeezing. Cherry moves his own hand up softly, covering Jai's hand.
"I know." Cherry rasps. "I won't do that again."
Jai pictures the moment in the market stand, Cherry mimicking his movements at his neck, trying to be cruel. As much as Jai knows he deserved it, it still hurt. Cherry removes their hands and moves his lips to Jai's neck, kissing it softly and lying back against Jai's chest.
"Hmm. I was told maybe, writing things down could help." Jai rasps and reaches for a fold in his lungi. He pulls out a small slip of paper and holds it near Cherry gently.
"I wrote it for you." Jai clears his throat and wiggles the paper.
Cherry keeps his gaze down, he is afraid he will give Jai too much if he meets his eyes. He takes the paper gently and unfolds it. It's only a few lines but Cherry reads it aloud.
alone with you
alone with you
the vain on earth
lonely beetles singing
my lotus
the songs are about you
with you
with you
Cherry pushes the paper to his chest and squeezes, letting the slip crinkle, and crack. He pushes his face against Jai's chest again and lets the tears tumble out. Jai hears a soft Thank You mumbled into his vest and Jai kisses Cherry's head again.
“Can I come back tomorrow? I will bring more food.” Jai whispers into Cherry’s hair.
Cherry laughs against Jai’s body. The sound vibrates against Jai's heart. Cherry finally pulls back to look into Jai's eyes. Jai marvels at the sight, Cherry's disheveled clothing and hair, his red-rimmed eyes and flushed nose, and the smears of rice and turmeric still on his face.
I am so lucky. I am so in love. Jai thinks. Cherry sniffs and smacks his lips.
“Bring something different. I’m tired of lemon rice.”
Chapter 19: Gundello
Summary:
Let love make you selfish.
Chapter Text
Kumar is four when Chitti is born.
They place his tiny body in Kumar's arms and ask him what it feels like to be a big brother, to have Chitti in his life. He isn't sure yet, he is only four.
They tell him he is older and, it is his job to protect Chitti and to set a good example. Kumar understands when a small fist grabs his fingers, and Chitti looks up at him in wonder.
He understands now. This is his Thammudu.
Kumar is nine when he tries to climb a tree.
"Kumar! Stop! Get down, Chintu!" Kanthamma yells with a touch of fear in her voice.
She runs toward the old tree next to their home, giving shade to their cattle and goat. Her strong hands, thin from a life as a seamstress, grab at her son's small waist and pluck him from the thick Raavi he's trying to climb.
"Amma! Chitti!" Kumar whines and points to the treetop, where an even smaller boy giggles and swings, screeching a convincing imitation of a monkey.
Their exasperated mother makes a noise of frustration and calls at Kumar's younger brother to come down too. Still, Kanthamma doesn't wait for Chitti. The frustrated young mother rushes Kumar back to the home with a yank of his thin arm.
"You have to be careful Kumar!" Kanthamma warbles as she walks, her small son tripping over his feet to keep up.
When she gets them inside she kneels to his height and starts brushing his clothing of dirt and dust, checking his small arms for scratches and his hair for twigs.
"Chitti always climbs-" Kumar complains but his mother shushes him.
"Chitti is not his father's eldest son!" Kanthamma interrupts and Kumar lowers his head.
"It's different for you Chintu." Kanthamma sighs. "You have to be careful, for me, for your father."
Kumar nods solemnly and apologizes in a small voice. His mother only hums and kisses his hair. They soak in the sweet moment, that is until a very small and very naked Chitti runs into the home squealing about fish.
Kanthamma gasps and runs after the toddler before Kumar can laugh.
Kumar is twelve when he learns that his parents can't read.
He brings home forms from school for them to sign and they only write an X. When they travel to nearby villages and ask for directions, they make Kumar and Chitti take turns calling out road signs. Kumar always thought it was a game. They mark prescriptions with symbols and don't use any prayer cards in temple. However, he is grateful that he can help, and when they realize he knows, they don't mention it.
Things change when Kumar overhears that Chitti's teacher gave up trying to teach Chitti to read. He is convinced it's impossible and believes Chitti refuses to listen. Kumar is livid, angrier than he's ever been in his short life. This kind of ignorance, coming from an adult, shocks him. He's scared and deeply disillusioned with the safe and happy world he thought he lived in.
Kumar worries about Chitti's education and his future. He watches him squirm and doze off in school, getting ignored by adults as a lost cause. He wants to say something, to tell his parents, to tell the headmaster. But, he knows know adults can be stupid, and it might make things worse.
Then one day, Kumar finds Chitti alone in the house, reading a small book to himself slowly. Chitti stops when he makes a mistake, using his finger to retrace the difficult word and tilt his small head to hear it better before repeating it slowly. Kumar stops worrying as much and sits with Chitti to read with him. Eventually, Chinni joins them.
When he turns fourteen, Kumar falls in love with books. His teacher has the class read Animal Farm but pulls Kumar aside and gives him a special book, by a French man. Kumar reads The Little Prince in three days. He loves it. It speaks to him in a way no book ever has. He feels like he knows The Prince. That perhaps maybe he is The Prince.
Kumar runs to tell his mother about the book, but as he talks excitedly about boys who fall in love with roses and untamed foxes who cry at goodbyes, she looks embarrassed, ashamed, and confused.
He makes the mistake of asking to read it to her, which makes it worse. His father pretends not to hear it.
Kumar doesn't talk about his favorite books after that.
Kumar is sixteen when his aunt dies.
They say it is a tragedy, her entire family gone. That changes Kumar too. Can families disappear so easily?
Kumar watches with his mother as his father weeps, clutching the pot of ghee, meant for the pyre, for his younger sister. It scares him to see his father so small, so broken.
The wrapped body terrifies Kumar. Maisaa says when it burns, her skull will pop. Kumar tries to ignore the hissing sounds that come after his father tips his pot. The older man lets out a weak wail as he stretches his arm to light the flame.
"Your father is our Kartā." Kanthamma whispers.
"When it is his time, that responsibility passes to you. Do you understand?" His mother's voice is cold, her sorrow overwhelming.
Kumar wipes at his tears and nods, He does understand. He has always understood. He understands the sorrow and loneliness of the little lives he's read about in his books.
Still, It is a relief to feel Chitti's smaller hand reach for his.
Kumar is nineteen when he catches Chitti kissing another boy.
The kiss is a peck, but the teenagers sit holding hands, alone and hidden. The cicadas of summer serenade them against the dented wood and straw flooring of the barn. When they see Kumar, they pull away fast, and the young boy who lives two houses down, scrambles to run away.
Chitti is flushed and angry.
"You can't leave me alone!? Get out!" Chitti yells, his eyes wet.
Kumar is stunned into silence, forgetting to tell Chitti to come home for lunch. He watches Chitti run off and spends the day alone, thinking, considering how cruel Karma can be, how strange. To think that both sons in the same family have these attractions feels unfair.
Kumar has always found a man's features just as appealing as a woman's, but Chitti seems to only be interested in men. It worries Kumar immediately until he remembers his responsibilities, that this too he will need to endure.
Kumar ignores romance and sex. He studies and pours himself into his books. Chitti teases him for preferring Russian writers, wondering how he can read their language. It pains him that Chitti recoils from opportunity and education, afraid he will be put out or separated, afraid the light of difference will shine on him if he tries. Kumar understands. He will study hard for both of them.
Kumar is twenty-five when he meets Padma.
She loves him deeply and he tells her she is too young. He leaves her, a heartbroken teenager, and goes to university in the north. He will kiss men and lose his virginity but find no real connection. He will return each year and each year she will be older and still love him.
When he graduates, she will try to love someone else and when he returns from grad school she will love him again. The dance they play is distracting and safe. Kumar can use her as a promise to his parents, a heartache with possibility, while he cultivates a lucrative career.
Eventually, she is in school and he is looking for work, giving them endless hours to meet and talk and find each other's hands. It is a relief to discover he is genuinely attracted to her. He knew deep down his interests were fairly balanced, but there was a part of him that worried he would be doomed to an empty marriage.
Padma is beautiful, soft, and funny. She is educated and quick, their conversations challenge Kumar and lend complicated perspectives that he is genuinely grateful for. She would make the perfect wife, the perfect partner. Yet, even with her, he feels alone, like something is missing from their coupling. His heart doesn’t race, his skin doesn’t flare with heat, and his feet stay planted on the ground.
The first time they kiss, Kumar feels a long stretch of emptiness. He mourns the simplicity of his affections for her and is grateful that the plutonic pull is enough. She will be a good wife and they will give his parents grandchildren and they will all be happy.
Padma says she doesn't like Tolstoy. That his books are too sad.
Kumar finds a job. He tells Padma he will work and when he returns, he will have enough money saved to impress her father. He asks her to wait, to finish school. She listens and assures him her father will accept him.
Everything is falling into place. Kumar is fulfilling his role in their family, Chitti will be safe and Kumar will be happy with Padma.
Until three brothers move to Rangasthalam and Erra Sreenu drowns.
The return home is quiet and long. The old bus is withered but strong, it makes for a smoother ride than one would expect. Kumar meets Chitti at his stop with luggage and guavas and silly sibling squabbles.
While seeing his parents and his sister is a balm, the trouble with Rongali Chandramma’s home being seized weighs heavy on his heart. He thinks of his father and their home but keeps a collected expression around Chitti. His mother looks happy, his father squints harder and his sister is taller. Chitti’s hearing is getting worse, his focus lingers longer on everyone’s lips when they speak and Kumar’s chest aches at his Thammadu’s stubbornness.
His father asks what he's reading these days and Kumar hides his disappointment when the older man can't pronounce Dostoyevsky.
Seeing Padma again helps. She still loves him and she clutches his hand when he has to leave. He explains to Chitti about crying and love and it feels romantic. Everything is going how it should and Kumar finds a way to ignore the creeping anxiety surrounding The Society. That is until Chitti introduces Kumar to his friend Kusa.
"Have you lost your senses!?" Kumar hisses next to Chitti's ear as he grips his arm.
Kumar had only been home a few days and already Chitti is being difficult. Chitti's brow turns down and his eyes flash with annoyance. Kumar tries to pull Chitti further into the house, away from Kusa, who waits for them patiently on the porch.
"What?! Can I not have a friend over to eat?!" Chitti spits back, his lip pushing out in a pout.
"Don't play games with me! I know he is not a friend." Kumar accuses, his voice softening to a plea. Chitti rolls his head to the side in frustration.
"What if Amma and Nanna realize? You can't be careless like this Anna!" Kumar says it desperately.
"And so? Maybe-" Chitti pauses to swallow, his expression unsure. "-Maybe they will understand."
Kumar's face falls and he lets go of Chitti's bicep.
"Thammadu." Kumar tries to be kind. "They won't."
Chitti's face flares in anger and he rushes to the kitchen, grabbing a Tiffin Dabba and digging at the food set aside for supper.
"What do you know? You've been gone. Do you know them so perfectly?" Chitti angrily packs rice, curry, chutney, and roti.
"Stupid Chitti knows nothing!" Chitti slams the Tiffin lid and yanks on the handle.
"Anna please." Kumar whispers, afraid his parents may come home at any moment. Chitti tilts his ear forward, frustrated with whispers.
"You are their gold star! You think you know them? Maybe Amma-" Chitti fumbles over the sentence, sudden anxiety coloring his features. Kumar's shoulders sag.
"They will understand if I tell them! If I am the one to explain it. They can meet my Kusa and see, he is good!" Chitti sounds like he is begging now, hoping for it to be true.
"They do know." Kumar blurts and Chitti freezes. "Everyone knows Chitti, they are not blind."
Chitti's face falls and his body slumps in defeat. There is a part of Chitti that isn't surprised. He had always wondered, knowing how careless he can be sometimes about it. Still, another part of him is terrified to finally have an answer.
"T-Then why can't I-" Chitti whimpers.
"I promised them you would never do this." Kumar's voice cracks. "That you would be smart and choose a wife and never bring them a husband."
Chitti's face flashes with rage.
"Why?!" Chitti yells it, his voice going deep and his eyes hard. Kumar comes closer, trying to keep his voice low.
"They were afraid and foolish! They wanted to send you- send you to-" Kumar's mouth clamps shut and he winces, trying to say this kindly.
"Where?!" Chitti croaks, his voice small now.
"Hospital." Kumar rasps. "To fix you."
Chitti breaks, his face crumples and he clutches the Tiffin to his chest.
"No, no, I convinced them it was wrong, you don't need a fix and it wouldn't work!" Kumar is babbling and Chitti pushes further into the kitchen, walking backward, trying to escape his brother's painful confession.
"Did you tell them, that you are the same?" Chitti croaks, his face washed in grief. "Did they threaten you with hospital?"
Guilt pangs Kumar's chest and he looks away, unable to meet Chitti's eyes, ultimately not surprised that Chitti knows.
"No, you are golden. I am Chitti. All of my engines are broken." Chitti rasps, his anger picking up again.
Kumar wants to argue, to unleash the ache he's endured at this weight he's carried for so long. Knowing he has to be better, to be impressive, to bring honor to his family because Chitti won't. He can't say those things, he can't be that cruel, so he says nothing.
"He wants to take me to America." Chitti says softly, mostly to himself. "I told him I can't leave my family."
Kumar hates this, he hates all the ways the world has made them so different, he wants to reach for his brother, to comfort him, but he knows these truths need to be heard, ignoring them will only put Chitti in more danger.
"Stupid Chitti knows nothing." The engineer's voice cracks and he lets an angry tear tumble out. Kumar watches helplessly as Chitti's fingers flex nervously over the thin steel of the Tiffin, warmed by his mother's food.
"Gundello." Kusa's voice is hard behind them and Kumar turns to find the ridiculous-looking man glaring with flat eyes and a scowl.
Chitti moves toward Kusa immediately, pushing past him to get outside, to get away. Kusa stands still like a stone pillar, his fists clenched and jaw rigid. He eyes Kumar for a long and painful stretch before clicking his tongue and turning to join Chitti in the yard.
Kusa walks Kumar's heartbroken brother away from their home, a soft hand on his back, Chitti leaning into him to hide.
Kumar watches the sunlight engulf them as they disappear and feels cold in the shadows of the empty home. He wonders if those dead authors know anything about love.
Kumar is 32 when he falls in love.
It was a simple day, a day for errands and sun and paperwork. Kumar had been home for a few weeks and felt compelled to look deeper into the messy affairs of The Society. The questions that had surfaced were too tempting to resist. He was able to find old loan contracts and payment receipts, given to him tentatively by Erra Sreenu's mother. His interest compounded when she mentioned that Sreenu was the only one who could read them.
So he holds the precious receipts in a folder to protect them and stands in line at the Post and Print to make copies. The building is sweltering, the sun rays sear through slatted blinds like molten arrows, scorching skin, carpet, and wood. Kumar swats at a mosquito as it tries to rest near his neck and he angles his body as close to the small fan that oscillates near the service counter.
The man in front of the line is elderly and slow but Kumar was raised with the virtues of respect and patience. Regardless of the rage, he feels at this heat. He starts to muster the courage to clear his throat when the front entrance opens and pushes more firelight into this sauna of an office. Kumar wants to recoil and hide but the door's twinkling bells serenade the entrance of an almost ethereal figure.
Kumar watches openly as a man steps inside gently and smiles. It confuses him at first until he remembers Chitti mentioning Kusa had identical siblings. He mistakes him for Kusa only for a second, then sees the neat hair and pressed clothing. Not to mention, the easy way the Kusa-lookalike carries his body, not the fluttering of a bee like Chitti's friend. The closer Kumar looks, the more he sees how different they are.
Where Kusa is swooping lines and jagged edges, his brother is soft and delicate. Even his eyes are dewy warm, rather than wildfire. The light from his demure smile shines brightly in the dim room, like a pearl in the sunlight, effervescent. Some would consider the man's aesthetic average, or plain if it weren’t for the soft beauty Kumar can see unfold in expression and movement. He admires the man’s skin like buttermilk, his thick hair, neat like sheets of dark silk, and lotus petal eyes, deft under long fluttering lashes.
♫ Kumar turns swiftly as those eyes meet his in another smile. The sudden ache is familiar but the memories live in shadows. Quick and young heartbeats at the promise of a teenage crush becoming more, calloused hands on his throat in a bar most men would deny visiting and passionate kissing with a stranger under moonlight.
The rush of heat and the embarrassment of interest is as exhilarating now, as it always was. Kumar tries to hide, focusing on his very important folder, but flares his nostrils against the waft of cologne. The scent gets stronger as the man moves to stand in line behind Kumar with a soft shuffle. Kumar swallows and steels himself to focus on his task, there are far more pressing things to worry about right now.
"Is this line for both post and print?" a small voice asks and Kumar half turns to sway his head. The sweet man only smiles, making his cheeks swell and tinge pink.
Kumar tries to steady his nerves. Luckily, the man at the counter seems to be finished and starts to move away. The line moves forward, until suddenly the man turns around, returning to ask more questions, and the line retracts like a snapped band. The sudden movement results in Kumar pushing back and knocking the poor man behind him hard enough to cause him to drop his things.
It’s a flurry of movement, apologies, crouching, and embarrassed laughter. Kumar is mortified, he tries his best to help the man gather his dropped items when he realizes it’s only one small envelope and blushes at all the awkward reaching.
"S-sorry. I-, is it alright?" Kumar winces at his odd question, but the man only laughs quietly and flutters those long lashes.
As the man settles his dropped envelope, Kumar can see it carries old photographs and he understands they are both here for print.
"Do you have everything?" The man points to Kumar's folder, asking if it's safe. Kumar smiles brightly and sways his head.
"Nothing important. Boring. Finance and politics." Kumar tries to laugh but his voice sounds strange.
"Lava." The man rasps and raises half a palm. Kumar smiles gently and offers his own near his chest.
"Yes, Kumar." Kumar laughs. "Our brothers know each other."
Kumar doesn't comment on their names, sure that Lava has heard it many times before.
Lava's face twists for a moment, then relaxes in recognition.
"Chitti's Anna." Lava smiles again, it looks sweet, like Kumar's favorite rose and pistachio sticky buns.
"I apologize for Kusa. I hope he is being polite when he eats all your food." Lava laughs and Kumar laughs too, a twinge of guilt at remembering his interrupted argument with Chitti.
"He is- it's fine." Kumar feels so foolish, how one attractive man can make him so clumsy with a few words.
Suddenly the line is moving. The elder has finished with his complaints and leaves the shop. Kumar shuffles awkwardly forward and Lava follows. Kumar tries to turn back to be polite when the man in front of him finishes almost immediately. Kumar is forced to take his turn and quickly makes his order. The man sways his head upon payment and leaves to make copies.
When Kumar turns, Lava's face is still bright and still beautiful. Kumar swallows again.
"You've just moved here? You and Kusa?" Kumar asks. Lava's face shifts again.
"Yes, but it's three of us, triplets." Lava corrects and grins at Kumar's arched eyebrows.
"This village is wonderful, a good place to settle, everyone is so kind." Lava quips.
"Not everyone." Kumar sighs. Lava opens his mouth to respond when the shopkeep returns with Kumar's copies. Kumar takes the offered slips and jumps on the opportunity to disappear.
"It was good to meet you Lava." Kumar smiles and turns, ready to get away from the magnetic beauty that tortures him.
"Wait!" Lava calls and Kumar stops to turn. Lava seems to worry over something, his expression nervous.
"You mentioned finance?" Lava tilts his head to the folder. "It's my field. Well, it was, in Hyderabad. Let me know if it gets too boring to take on alone."
Kumar sways his head, preparing to thank him and leave when Lava lets out a small breath.
"Karamazov." Lava points to the book squeezed under Kumar's arm.
Kumar freezes, looking down at the old book for a moment, then back to Lava, his heart racing, his soul soaring, every nerve ending under his skin screaming to be touched, to be kissed.
"My favorite-" Lava stops and hums, thinking.
"I see the sun, and if I don’t see the sun, I know it’s there-" Lava starts.
"There is a whole life in that, in knowing that the sun is there." Kumar finishes in a rasp, his heart squeezing in such a powerful yearning ache he wonders if it will explode. Lava's smile at the quote is a thousand suns.
The shopkeep interrupts them, asking Lava what he needs. Lava stutters and turns apologizing, handing over his photo quickly before turning back.
"It was nice to meet you, Kumar."
Lava loves crisping onions. It's his favorite part of making Biryani. The smells and sounds remind him of his mother.
He watches the ghee glisten clear and crack at moisture in the air, its rich color ripples like liquid gold. He drops finely sliced red onions and huffs as it sizzles angrily. Lava always starts his dum Biryani by frying onions. The meat has been marinating all day, he only needs to boil rice and chop herbs.
"Chitti mentioned a stage Lava! He says it'd old but it's there just waiting for us!" Kusa garbles his excitement through a mouth full of Jalebi. Where he got the snack, Lava doesn't know.
"Is that even something you still want?" Lava sighs. Kusa's face twists and his eyes roll.
"Not for us Anna , for our Rakshasa!" Kusa and Chitti snicker at the title.
"Don't call him that." Lava whispers and shakes a ladle at them both.
"C-Call me what?" Jai's rough voice startles Kusa hard enough to make him shake and wobble on his stool. Jai steps in, still an imposing force in dark clothes and a guarded expression.
"Rangasthalam has a stage Annaya ! Chitti says we could use it if we ask. You could finally be our Rammadu!" Kusa says excitedly. Jai's mouth thins to a flat line.
"Cherry Maa Sita." Chitti whispers to Kusa and they both giggle like monkeys. Lava's ladle does land on them this time and Kusa yelps.
Jai says nothing but his eyes slit even thinner. He walks to the kitchen and starts preparing a tiffin of leftovers next to Lava.
"It could be good for us Annaya, for you. The house is nearly finished." Lava pauses to stir the onions. "It's something new to stay occupied with."
Jai's body is rigid as he scoops curry and rice. The sun outside is unforgiving and he squints his eyes as he tries to focus on the window and rattling leaves, ignoring Lava's enthusiasm.
"You always loved the stage." Lava offers excitedly and Jai lets out a frustrated breath.
"Ok, we are going now Lava!" Kusa yells.
Lava is surprised to see Kusa calling from the doorway. He startles, moving fast through the house to stop his brother and Chitti from leaving.
"Anna, I was going to make us supper! Chitti can join us if he likes." Lava smiles.
Kusa bristles at the way Lava likes to speak around Chitti, not to him . He hasn't decided if it's because their friendship makes Lava uncomfortable or if he thinks Chitti can't hear him.
"We promised Nageswara Rao we would help with the Toddy delivery for Dazzle Queen this weekend." Kusa rushes and grabs at Chitti to pull him out.
Lava tries to follow, but the two younger men scramble away waving and laughing, ignoring the way Lava's heart sinks in disappointment. Lava huffs and moves to walk back to the kitchen when he nearly collides with Jai.
"I think it's only us tonight." Lava sighs. "I'm making Biryani before I see Kumar Garu."
Lava smiles and Jai grunts.
"I can't." Jai deadpans and moves to leave the house as well.
Lava does stop this brother and lets his eyes go sad and sweet.
"Are you seeing him again?" Lava asks, a little desperate. Jai only responds with slit eyes, the sudden image of Cherry feels like something he needs to protect.
"Jai is that smart? The way he behaved in the market-" Lava stops to worry his lip "He doesn't seem very-"
"Don't." Jai's voice drops low and his eyes harden.
"I just think you should be careful." Lava tries to rest a hand on Jai's rigid shoulder, making the uncomfortable man tense further. "He was erratic and violent and you are still healing. I'm sure-"
"Lava." Jai interrupts, his tone clipped. "I will be home late."
Lava deflates, his heart bruised at the dismissal, but Jai is already walking away from their home. It hurts Lava to watch them both leave so easily, so flippant with this new time they have together.
Lava shuffles back into the kitchen and packs away the fried onions for another day. He wipes his eyes quickly, blaming the onions for his tears. He prepares to serve himself a modest supper of rice and leftover curry when there's a rattle of the door chimes.
Lava startles and considers not answering, his sour mood is enough of an excuse to hide, but he reprimands himself and straightens his clothing to look presentable. When he answers the door he is once again shocked to see Kumar Babu on his porch.
"I know I'm early." Kumar is breathless but smiles through the apology. "My afternoon plans fell through so I thought I could come to beg you to join me a bit earlier."
Lava beams brightly at the invitation and agrees, basking in the warmth of Kumar's attention. Kumar doesn't mention it was a meeting with Padma that fell through, her responsibilities to her studies interrupting their plans.
"There is an old office we can use to work, an accountant who used to work for the village." Kumar explains and holds a gentle hand out for Lava to join him.
"Have you eaten? We could find something to bring from the market." Kumar offers gently as Lava steps out onto the porch.
"Oh, yes that would be wonderful." Lava smiles, nearly breathless, tilting his head up to meet Kumar's handsome face and tender eyes.
The man's features are gentle but strong, his skin so smooth and beautiful under the sun. Lava does his best to hide his blush and feels a wonderful rush of relief at Kumar's caring and attentive nature. He does not like to think about how lonely it has been in this new village, how far of a distance his brothers prefer to keep. It feels good to be wanted, even if only for financial advice.
"Good, good." Kumar pushes at the bridge of his glasses, sounding relieved.
Lava absently worries about the leftovers. His mind has always been apt at analytical multitasking and it's sometimes an annoyance. He wonders if the food needs to be covered or if it's already spoiled. They have been in this office for hours now, the rice is most likely unsafe but perhaps the paneer-
Focus Lava reprimands himself and his eyes lock on the paperwork he shifts in his hands. Kumar stands close, the single lamp in the dark office illuminates them both as they worry over numbers and percentages and time passed.
Lava can smell Kumar's sweat and cologne in the hot night, his peripheral catch a bead of sweat at his temple, glistening against his richer skin tone. Another frustrating distraction of Lava's analytical mind, one he suffers less to indulge in. Lava's eyes swipe to the paperwork again. Receipts, loan contracts, and math. Lava swallows his arousal and breathes.
"This-" Lava pauses, afraid to accept his findings. "This looks like-"
Kumar only hums. Their eyes catch and they see the same look in each other's anxious expressions. They agree.
"The math is wrong, on each one, wildly so. How did nobody catch this? Are these the only ones?" Lava asks. Kumar sighs.
"No, only three. There are at least a dozen more." Kumar swallows at Lava's struck expression.
Kumar is thankful he could get these, pulled from Erra Sreenu's mother, Rama Lakshmi, and Maisaa's father.
"Is illiteracy this bad here?" Lava asks as he shuffles the receipts.
"The older generation. They own the property." Kumar starts.
"So they sign on the loans." Lava finishes.
They both wilt under the implication and are almost too afraid to speak their suspicions.
"Kumar, if the rest are like this, if there are more, it's impossible it would be clerical errors. It would be-" Lava's voice thins out, almost too weak to believe it.
"Corruption." Kumar's voice echoes with anger.
The injustice angers Lava too, how men in power could be so cruel, so manipulative, to yank money from the hands of farmers, of the poor. Lava once told a village we should wet the land with water, not with farmer's tears. He does believe that, and he can see Kumar does too.
"What can we do?" Lava asks innocently. "How can we help?"
Kumar doesn't miss the we in those questions and his confidence swells at the suggestion of support.
"For now, it's safe to bring it to them directly and ask about mistakes. I have doubts but, we can't be too aggressive." Kumar says. Lava hums.
It makes sense, best to be careful and hope for the miracle of wild and unintentional errors.
"Yes, better to take it through the official channels first." Lava sighs and settles his resolve.
"I can join you, I will bring my calculations, perhaps simple math will settle the matter and it won't need to go any further." Lava says hopefully. Kumar smiles gently.
"Thank you, Lava." Kumar means it, he is wildly grateful to have someone so intelligent to seek support from, it almost makes him feel guilty at how little he expects from most of his family.
Lava's hand reaches out gently and places itself over Kumar's on the old wooden desk. Kumar looks down at it with pinched brows. The touch is soft and light and he feels entranced watching Lava's thumb graze tenderly over his knuckles.
A beautiful hand attached to a beautiful arm. A soft body and curved features that cry out to be held. Wide and deep lotus petal eyes and pouty pink lips against buttermilk skin. Kumar's body flushes and there is a strong pulse that beats between them at the touch. Kumar gravitates to Lava in every way, like he recognizes something there, something old and familiar, something that belongs to him.
"You have my support, Kumar, whatever you decide to do. You won't be alone." Lava smiles.
Kumar finds himself wondering again about books and tragedy and romance. Maybe none of us know anything about love and all the poems are questions, pleas to the universe for help.
Jai spreads his arms wide, one end of the wet Kantha in each hand. He folds it gently over the line and does his best to spread it evenly. Once he's confident the fabric is balanced, he notches his head and Cherry gently secures each end to the line, plucking wooden pins from his mouth.
Jai hums as the fabric starts to flutter in the gentle breeze, happy to work in the silence of the summer sun. Cherry smiles and moves back to the basket and hands Jai another set of items to help with. They hang the line together, working quietly, but catching each other's eyes between folds and the wet stretch of clean linen.
Their fingers catch too, the brush of damp skin, they even start to spark and Cherry yelps at the pinch of static electricity. Jai laughs, happy the charge that buzzes on their bodies reacts to each other as dramatically as their hearts do. Cherry colors sweetly at each tender gaze Jai passes to him, each unguarded glance that begs for affection. It feels silly now, how open Jai behaves around him, how loving. When before it was so different. Cherry chooses to let the wash of sorrow float away for now and just enjoy the soft afternoon.
With laundry hung and chores done, they end up in the grass, hidden in the shadows close to the back of the house. Jai’s arms are warm and feel safe, they wrap around Cherry and squeeze, soothing and rubbing at Cherry’s arms and back. They say nothing, but Cherry reads how Jai’s eyes continue to beg.
♫ “Can I kiss you?” Jai whispers it so softly, Cherry’s heart blooms open, gentle and raw.
Their mouths find each other, saying hello again after so long. Emotions are bridled this time, curbed and understood with gentle temperaments. This hello is so familiar. Cherry can feel Jai’s mattress in Lanka under his tired muscles, the cool bedding soft and sweet under the dim morning light, still blue as the moon slinks away. He remembers Jai’s mouth just like this.
I love you, I love you, stay with me.
Cherry’s tongue brings Jai the memory too and they bask in the gentleness their love always carried, even when it was painful or lonely, that authentic pulse beats between them still.
I love you naked, I love your bones, I love you stripped and seen, understood only by my heart.
"Tell me again." Cherry asks between kisses. "Read it to me."
Jai smiles and hums.
"The vain on earth, lonely beetles singing." Jai whispers. Cherry mouths the words silently with him, the poem etched onto the walls of his heart.
"My lotus, the songs are about you." Jai finishes and Cherry lets out small huffs of laughter, pleased to hear it again, his cheeks happy and round with love.
They kiss again. Cherry breathes into Jai, their tongues pushing and pulling, a damp slide of muscle and lips, alongside the caress of hands mapping skin. The smell is them again, wafting into sunrays like dust, like the moment in the theatre room.
I want to spend more time with you. I know why we shouldn't, but I still want to.
Cherry hums, pushing their noses together and pulling away gently with a pop.
“Rangamma will be home soon.” Cherry breathes. “We have to be careful.”
“No, no no.” Jai begs, his voice thin. “Don’t make me go again.”
Cherry’s laugh is a wispy rush of air and he colors at the plea. He's always known Jai to be a romantic, that part of him shone in every grand gesture in Lanka , but this quiet and intimate romance is new, the way Jai whispers and speaks so earnestly. Cherry doesn’t completely distrust it, but it scares him sometimes. What if it's the same lie? What if it's not Jai, rid of his Raavan mask? What if this is Raavan, wearing a Jai mask? Cherry tries to shake those thoughts, he knows what Raavan looks like, what he sounds like. This is Jai. Cherry reminds himself and softens into the affections.
“It’s still early.” Jai argues gently.
Cherry hums as Jai moves his mouth to Cherry’s stubbled jaw and neck, peppering kisses to Cherry's shoulder, making him sigh and shudder, the skin now warmed by the sun.
“It’s supper Jai, lunch was hours ago.” Cherry laughs and ducks his head against kisses.
Jai hums at hearing his name said so tenderly, it’s something he is still getting used to, something he loves so much.
“It is so easy to be with y-y-you.” Jai coos. “Time goes by so fast.”
Cherry sighs and leans into Jai’s lips as they make their way back to say hello again. More tongue, more wet, more of a slow slide to get closer. When Cherry pulls away again it makes a lighter sound and Jai whines in protest.
“You can’t be here when she comes back, I don’t want her to be upset.” Cherry reasons with a click of his tongue and moves to pull away.
Jai turns petulant, tugging at Cherry, not wanting him to leave the embrace. Cherry laughs as he’s pulled back playfully, lips and arms returning.
“I have an idea.” Jai smiles.
Cherry isn't surprised that Jai's home is nicer than Rangamma's. He is surprised that it is only slightly nicer. The home is old, like all homes in Rangasthalam. It's built like any village house would be, but it's been renovated, improved, and reinforced where it needs it, painted, with new windows and doors.
It's a little large, with two stories, but an open roof and only two bedrooms. Jai says his room has its own washroom but there is a small toilet downstairs and a washing hut in the yard. Jai explains the village already had some electricity and he worked with nearby town electricians to wire this house and other homes in the village that needed it.
Cherry smiles warmly at Jai's unwavering drive to control everything, happy to see it manifesting as helping people, rather than hurting them.
The kitchen is new too. It's still small and simple but with a gas stove and finished stone counters. The wide steel sink is new too but it otherwise looks like any village kitchen, with hanging chilies and baskets of onions. Jai says it's for Lava, otherwise, he and Kusa would starve.
Jai says his brothers will be out for the day, Lava is with Chitti's brother and won't be home before supper. Jai smirks when he says this and Cherry wonders again about the things identical siblings share.
Jai leads Cherry to his room gently. Cherry recognizes the potted vines and wide bed but the cover of rain hid everything else that night. The furnishings are basic and vintage. A wooden bed frame, wide and sturdy, a wooden dresser for clothing with creaking doors, two small side tables with Jai's reading glasses, and a brass cup for water. It's simple but it suits the man who now dresses in red lungis and dark faded vests.
Cherry lets his fingers graze withered vines and polished wood, smiling as he approaches a mirror hanging on the wall, covered in taped faded photographs. Cherry coos at the old photo of three skinny identical boys huddled in a wilted yard, the backdrop of a traveling theatre framing their small smiles.
"You." Cherry declares and points to the boy standing between and behind the other two.
"How do you know?" Jai asks softly.
"The shy one." Cherry whispers and lets his thumb brush the timid face with wild curls and full cheeks.
Cherry leans back to kiss Jai's cheek and his eyes return to scan the other photographs. A small blurry one of Jai with a half dozen other small boys and a young Kaakha. A snap of a small girl in a coconut grove, her back turned to the lens, bright flowers in her plaits. Jai, Tapan, Shatru, and Sekhar as teenagers on the hood of a Lory, serious and shielded by sunglasses. Cherry gasps.
"You were chubby!" Cherry squeals at the photo. Jai groans. Jai was heavier then, not something he cared too much about, but his work and interest in fitness evened him out as he aged.
"Trouble with folding." Jai mumbles.
"So handsome." Cherry coos and scrunches his nose. "Have to feed you, make you round again."
They laugh together and Jai blushes. Jai clears his throat as Cherry stops to admire his mother’s photo.
“You look like her.” Cherry quips as his fingers brush the edges of the photo. Jai hums and leans in close behind Cherry, letting his nose graze Cherry’s neck.
Cherry’s attention shifts to the last photo, faded on cheap print paper, almost indiscernible until Cherry studies it. His face pinches and he flushes as he recognizes himself. He swipes the photo quickly and it squeaks in his grip.
“You found the box.” Cherry’s voice is flat and upset. Jai swallows, knowing he needs to navigate this carefully.
Jai remembers that morning, entering Cherry’s room like a tomb. Everything had been thrashed, clothing, small trinkets, shattered mirror glass everywhere. Jai had seen the small cardboard box turned over with Jai’s stolen things and a slew of photographs taken with a cheap instant camera.
Dozens of photos of small things in Lanka, festival lights in the market, the wildflower field where Sekhar died, a blurry snap of Shatru, and then dozens of photos of Cherry alone. Little photographs Cherry had taken of himself, some of them sweet and beautiful like the one Jai had kept, but most of them, tempting and intimate. Cherry in the bath, the camera wobbling above him. Cherry in bed in Jai’s Kurta, his thighs showing, and an inviting smile through wispy hair. Cherry’s body spread and flushed, something private and delicate on wet lips.
“I burned the other ones.” Jai rasps. “They we-we-weren’t mine to keep.”
Cherry’s face pinches again.
“I took them for you.” Cherry croaks, embarrassment flooding his face.
“I didn’t give you a chance to give them to me.” Jai says it softly, hoping the tenderness translates.
The tension in Cherry’s body eases and his grip on the photograph loosens. He hands it to Jai gently.
“You can have this one.” Cherry decides and turns away awkwardly.
“Thank you.” Jai replies and slips the photo back into the frame of the mirror.
"They were ver-r-ry hard to burn." Jai purrs against Cherry's ear.
"You looked so beautiful." Jai growls and Cherry blushes, smiling through the long strands of his hair.
"Rascal." Cherry breathes and they both laugh quietly.
Cherry catches their reflections in the mirror. They look good together, they look good in this room, their sharp edges softened by the warm village. They look like they belong together, like they match. Cherry can't help but huff a laugh as Jai seems much more interested in the patch of skin on Cherry's shoulder he keeps trying to kiss. Cherry knocks the shoulder gently into Jai's bearded chin and Jai looks up with a happy smile. Cherry looks at the photo of Jai and his brothers, then back to Jai.
“Your curls changed.” Cherry chirps. Jai grunts disapprovingly.
“I never knew what to do with them.” Jai grumbles. Cherry’s face brightens and he smiles with excitement.
“I do!”
--
This is bliss. This is Svarga. This is home.
Cherry's fingers rub and pull at Jai's sensitive scalp. The textured pads of his fingers send such wonderful vibrations of sensation from the top of Jai's head, down his spine, to branch out in every blood vessel and nerve ending. Cherry huffs a laugh at Jai's sleepy expression and starts to section the washed and rinsed curls with small pins.
"No more squirming!" Cherry reprimands and Jai hums.
The sink hadn’t given either of them much room to wash Jai’s curls in but Cherry was thorough. Now with clean, wet hair, he pulls and shapes. Cherry uses a thin index finger to spin and coil small sections with hair cream Jai stole from Lava, pulling up to let the natural curl bounce back. They look very tight like this, close to Jai’s head, wet and shrunk, but Cherry knows they will spring up fluffy as they dry. It takes a while, but Cherry does this to every small section of Jai’s head and huffs triumphantly when he finishes.
“Wash it again like this in a week. Fill a spray bottle with a bit of this cream and spray a little in the morning, the curls will come back.” Cherry explains as he uses a thin towel to scrunch the wet curls gently, picking up water and excess cream. Jai raises his brows at Cherry’s detailed instructions.
“I had a friend in Hyderabad with hair like yours.” Cherry laughs to himself and shrugs “She would make me help her.”
Jai’s eyes are curious and happy as Cherry drops into Jai's lap and lets himself talk about Rishi, how she loves the little photos of chickens and food he sends her, how she brought him back to life when he felt so alone he might drown. Guilt passes through Jai but he doesn’t interrupt, he wants to hear more. Cherry talks about the dosa corner, and his new flat, he says it isn’t much but Jai is happy he has a home and friends.
Eventually, it’s quiet. They look at each other with understanding, their paths aligning now, their hearts learning how to beat in sync again. Cherry breaks the moment and takes Jai’s hand gently to lead them to the wide bed. They lie down together and Jai finds safety in Cherry’s arms, his head resting over Cherry’s heartbeat. It’s Jai’s turn to talk. He tells Cherry more about the fight with Sarkar, and what he remembers about the drive to Deva and Das.
It's still hard to talk about, he was so sure he was dying, lost forever with so many mistakes and regrets. Jai's throat tightens as he thinks of the gift he has now, under him, breathing quietly and petting at his damp curls.
Jai switches to the new home and their new village, not wanting to linger on blood and regrets. He mentions his suspicions about Lava and Kumar and that he knows about Chitti and Kusa.
“They are very bad at staying hi-hidden.” Jai laughs. Cherry laughs too.
“I catch them in sh-ha-hadows kissing like teenagers.” Jai jokes. Cherry laughs even louder.
“They seem so happy.” Cherry argues. “I like Kusa.”
Jai hums and reluctantly agrees.
"Jai, what is wrong with his hair?" Cherry whispers and Jai is laughing again.
"He's adjusting, I think." Jai tries to reason with himself and tucks himself closer to Cherry, enjoying the warmth and the gentle sounds of the village outside. A man yells out and a woman laughs, Jai's smile widens.
"Everything is different here." Cherry muses. "Nothing like the city."
Cherry says it like he's reminded of something, something contemplative or painful. Jai's face turns up to look at Cherry, his expression asking questions. Cherry swallows, he can feel the resistance to talk about it, but, he refuses to indulge in that kind of pandering. Jai can hear the truth, and if he can't, Cherry shouldn't be here.
He tells Jai about Karthik.
"There was a man in Hyderabad."
Cherry lets his body stretch and sink into soft bedding. His skin is tacky and warm from exertion, from the echos of hot muscles and a wet mouth. He still feels the hum of his orgasm and basks in the glow of relief.
Finally.
He's been in Hyderabad for almost a year and he's finally found the kind of sex he had gotten used to. Good sex. Cherry marvels at Karthik's back, his skin dark like Cherry's. It is attractive Cherry thinks, smiling at how good that feels, to change his mind.
Cherry puts a palm to Karthik's warm skin as the other man sits off the edge of the cot, tying the laces of his new sneakers and humming along with the old radio near Cherry's bed.
"That was good." Cherry whispers.
Karthik huffs a laugh and turns his head to smile. He's very good-looking, with short fluffy hair and a strong nose, Cherry's body flushes in recognition of it.
"It was. Thanks Cinna .” Karthik's voice is soft, it has a lilt at the end, and a rasp in the middle, like the few other Tamil men he's met. Cherry likes it.
Karthik leans over to kiss Cherry's shoulder then stands, patting the back pockets of his jeans to check for his wallet and phone.
"You can stay." Cherry leans up and reaches a hand out to Karthik's hip. Karthik sucks his teeth and notches his head.
"Have something important tomorrow." Karthik replies and Cherry raises his eyebrows.
"Getting married. Some girl on my father's side." Karthik says it so easily and looks around the room for his keys. When he turns, he smiles sweetly.
"Maybe next week, once everything settles down?" Karthik offers.
Cherry pulls his hand back to safety, his expression going cold, the lines under his eyes deep.
"Maybe not." Karthik mumbles and leaves without saying goodbye.
Cherry turns out the lights in his flat and waits for the darkness to engulf him, for the blanket to shield him before he lets himself cry.
It isn't Karthik. Cherry doesn't know him, he doesn’t love him. Cherry loved Jai. Jai was proud and didn't apologize or agree to marry women only to ask if he could fuck Cherry after. Jai never felt shame or let Cherry feel it for that matter.
Cherry is so angry at Jai. He ruined what they could have had, he ruined the chance they had at an easy love. Jai was supposed to love him always, so he wouldn't have to waste his heart on men like Karthik.
Cherry sobs into the empty room, afraid to be alone, afraid he will never love another man the way he loved Jai.
Jai pulls away. He sits at the end of the mattress, like Karthik did. He is quiet, his muscles rigid with anger. Cherry's breathing is heavy, the tension in the air thick.
"Did you use a condom?!" Jai asks, his voice hard and demanding.
Cherry's expression stiffens, his eyes black and flat, he sits up and scrunches his nose.
"Yes. You think I'm stupid?" Cherry spits, his anger building.
"In Lanka, with me you-" Jai argues but Cherry interrupts.
"I trusted you!" Cherry counters. "I know you. You're smart about things like that."
Jai's face falls, regret at how the conversation is spiraling out.
"I was tested before you. You knew that right? Your stupid fucking little folders and pictures. You knew everything!" Cherry's voice is climbing to frantic. Jai opens his mouth to calm him, to say sorry.
"That's what you said about me, huh!?" Cherry shoves an angry palm into Jai's chest, his voice cracking. The lines under Jai's eyes deepen as he starts to panic.
"A good fuck!?" Cherry's lips tremble and he shoves again.
Jai's throat sears with pain, it locks tight, and his jaw strains. He moves quickly back to Cherry, hoping to reform the connection, gripping Cherry's lungi in an uneasy fist.
"I'm s-sorry. I'm s-sorry." Jai swallows and clutches the scratchy fabric tighter.
Jai hates this, he hates that it makes him jealous and angry. He had no claim to Cherry after Lanka . He had wanted Cherry to find someone better, someone to love him. Knowing Cherry only found sorrow, and more men to hurt him the way Jai did, the guilt is suffocating.
Cherry lets out a shuddering breath and squeezes his eyes shut. Jai's eyes plead with unsaid apologies and Cherry puts his palm to Jai’s fist, soft and comforting against tight skin.
“I don’t want to be angry anymore.” Cherry says weakly, sounding defeated.
Jai’s throat twists, there is so much he wants to say but he only stammers and clutches Cherry’s Lungi, begging the universe to let his vocal cords soften, begging Cherry to hear them.
I didn’t love you enough. I didn't give you enough. I want you to have everything, but all I have is myself to give you.
Cherry’s palm moves to rub Jai’s forearm now, on the verge of trembling. His hand moves up and tugs on Jai’s vest straps, pulling Jai into a strong hug.
“I know.” Cherry presses to Jai’s ear.
Jai is suddenly so quiet, his body rigid and afraid, his wide shape curled around Cherry’s thin one. It takes a long moment for Jai to settle, for the panic to stop, for his breathing to even. Eventually, they return to lying down, back to safety.
They both doze on and off as the afternoon sun warms their skin, asking their bodies to comfort each other, each ruminating on the same fears, the same anxieties, hoping they can fix this. Hoping time will heal.
Jai’s hair has had time to dry and the curls are springing up fluffy just like Cherry predicted. Cherry pulls absently at a short curl and watches it bounce back, a tired smile on his face. Jai colors but leans into the touch.
"I wasn't sure what you wo-would think. You liked it flat in Lanka." Jai sniffs, his voice still a deep timber, even after crying and begging Cherry to love him.
Cherry pushes his fingers into the roots, running through the new growth, dense and curly, the pads of his fingers circling Jai's scalp again. Jai's eyes slip close, the touch electric and a memory. Cherry's hands on his skin again.
"That isn't what I loved about you." Cherry says it simply and Jai presses his face into the safe, quiet, space behind Cherry's ear.
The moment is romantic, soft, and delicate until Cherry’s stomach makes a very demanding sound and Jai laughs.
“I forgot I have a surprise.” Jai smiles but lets it fall as he feels Cherry tense.
Cherry remembers Jai’s last surprise, Nani and a gun in the basement. Jai is gentle as he tries to fix the misstep.
“It is in the kitchen, something sweet.” Jai whispers. Cherry’s face softens and he lights up.
Jai disappears for a moment to bend down in the kitchen, when he reappears, he plops a heavy basket of ripe fruit on the stone counter.
"Taati Munjalu! " Cherry bounces and presses close to try and smell the ripe Ice Apple. They resemble small coconuts but with a darker rind that makes them look purple and glossy.
♫ "Are you thirsty?" Jai asks with a smile. Cherry sways his head happily.
Jai motions for Cherry to help him and grabs a large butcher's knife. Jai cuts most of the hard fruit in half but hands Cherry a small carving knife to pluck the flesh from inside.
Cherry focuses intently on lifting the soft jelly stones from their beds, slicing under and pulling up. The slits are sideways like a goat's pupils and Cherry squeals as a fleshy lump jumps into the air and lands on the counter with a plop. Jai laughs at the sound and moves behind Cherry to help.
"Easy." Jai whispers.
Jai's hands find their way to Cherry's, sticky with Munjalu juice. He guides Cherry’s slim fingers, strong and sharp, gently through the task. They cut out the fruit smoothly. Jai’s hands are warm and heavy and Cherry sinks into the easy touch.
“I remember this.” Cherry whispers. The memory of making Chai in Lanka flushes through both of them.
Jai hums and lets his eyelids droop. He nuzzles at Cherry’s neck and lets his hands go lax, Cherry taking over the work, smiling wide as he feels Jai get lost in his shoulder again.
“Was it the same then?” Cherry asks, his voice playful and soft. “Did you want me so badly?”
“Badly.” Jai growls.
Cherry’s smile stretches and his hands falter, Jai’s breath at his neck is hot and tender and he can feel the scratch of Jai’s mustache at his ear. Cherry wants to push his hips back, to ask for more. Heat flutters under his skin, he remembers how hard he was that day, how even now he aches for Jai’s caress.
“Jai-“ Cherry’s whisper is interrupted by the flutter of the door curtain and Kusa’s wild little laugh ringing through the house.
“They were so stupid!” Kusa’s words are muffled as he chews the last of something he no longer carries in his hand.
“They took the big check!” Kusa laughs and a few crumbs tumble out near Chitti’s feet, too enamored by the funny story to mind.
“I remember this too.” Cherry mumbles, his chin pointing to the interruption.
Jai grumbles behind Cherry and pulls away an inch or two for modesty. Kusa freezes halfway into the house and Chitti nearly bumps into him from behind. Kusa sees Jai, Jai sees Kusa. It’s so quiet for a moment it feels cold. The identical brothers do something strange with their faces, an awkward challenge, or a shared embarrassment. The moment ends as quickly as it takes Kusa’s eyes to find the Munjalu. His face brightens and he rushes to the kitchen.
“Ice Apple!” Kusa shouts and Chitti sheepishly follows, his eyes round and thirsty. Jai deflates and lets out a long sigh.
“Hi, Cherries.” Chitti whispers and puts his tongue to his lip.
“Oh! The neighbors?” Kusa asks and Jai only grunts in reply.
“The new baby.” Kusa says to Chitti. “They promised fruit to thank Jai for electricity!”
Chitti gasps and sniffs the air politely. Cherry smiles as he turns and Jai pulls away to find their blender under a counter, hiding his uncomfortable expression. Kusa and Chitti sit gently at small stools near the stone counter and watch like puppies as Jai preps the ice, fruit, and jaggery for blending, waiting for the sweet basil seeds to soak and plump up.
Kusa's and Chitti's eyes find Cherry and shift back and forth curiously. Eventually, Chitti makes small kissing noises, wagging his eyebrows playfully. Kusa huffs and starts to mimic Chitti, the both of them teasing Cherry for the romance they seem to have interrupted. Cherry only laughs and Jai slams the lid on the blender to quiet them, a disgruntled eyebrow cocked. They both wilt but smile at each other regardless.
They all watch the blender work, Kusa tilting his stool back and forth impatiently. Jai eyes him, signaling that he calm down but Kusa only sways happily. Eventually, Jai adds in a touch more Jaggery and pulses the pulp one last time. All three men tilt forward to watch Jai pour the sweet fruit into a tall glass, layering it with the basil seeds and coconut milk. Their mouths water at its thick and cool consistency as Jai starts to mix and stir, the color of cream and the smell of sugar. As Jai lifts the glass, Kusa leans forward a bit too quickly and Jai reprimands him with his voice.
“Wait.” Jai growls and gently hands Cherry the glass first. Cherry smiles sweetly and takes it with both hands, letting himself have a large sip that leaves milky foam on his mustache as he pulls away. He hums, the apples of his cheeks bright and round.
“Good.” Cherry rasps and lets his tongue swipe at the leftover cream on his lips.
Cherry laughs as he hands a vibrating Kusa the cup and watches as he does his best to drink politely, taking a big swallow but not too big to hurt Chitti’s feelings. Chitti on the other hand is used to sharing with siblings and waits with a happy smile. Chitti has his sip too and Jai huffs a small laugh as he moves to blend more.
"Jai your hair is different." Kusa laughs and then burps.
Jai hums, seemingly his favorite response for Kusa. Chitti nods in support and just tries to smile.
"Jai's hair was always very curly, unlike me and Lava." Kusa confides in Chitti with a contemplative sigh.
Chitti's eyebrows shoot up but he decides to continue to smile. Cherry laughs accidentally.
"We're identical Yedava." Jai grunts and keeps his eyebrows down, already getting frustrated.
"Hair is different!" Kusa scoffs. "Look at mine! It doesn't look like....that."
Chitti's eyes dart back and forth between Kusa and Jai, seemingly too nervous and unsure to settle. Cherry sips the last of his drink and keeps to himself. Jai continues to stare at Kusa, unimpressed.
"It-It is a little similar Koti." Chitti offers gently.
Kusa's face goes sour at Chitti's sudden betrayal. A visible tension slithers through Kusa's body, upset at the comparison. Chitti's fingers graze Kusa's hairline gently, avoiding the tangles and almost matted ponytail at the back.
"At the roots, here, mostly." Chitti whispers.
Kusa smacks gently at Chitti's hands and his eyes flash something close to anger and fear. Chitti recoils, confused and hurt.
"Stop! It's straight! Don't be upset we have Amma's hair and you don't!" Kusa is standing now, his body language defensive and startled.
Jai's body is rigid like stone and his eyes flash a wild anger at the mention of their mother. Cherry's hand snaps to Jai's bicep like a magnet, trying to soften the tension between the two. Chitti speaks before Cherry can think of what to say.
"Kusa! Don't talk like that! Curly hair is nice. Jai's hair is good and your curls are too!" Chitti tries to smile, to temper the odd outburst.
Kusa's face crumples and he glares at Chitti. His mouth opens, gapes like a fish, then clamps shut.
"He looks like me so much?! You want him instead?!" Kusa blurts.
"Kusa!" Jai yells, loud and strong. Chitti's face pinches in anger but his eyes stay sad. Kusa lets guilt and shame wash his features but is stubborn.
"It's not curly!" Kusa's voice is frantic.
"Yes, it is." Chitti whispers, his face a scowl, tears welling.
Kusa lets his lip wobble and then he turns away, rushing out of the house as fast as he can. His thigh bangs against the small altar and the porcelain figures clatter and jostle until they tip over into the flower petals.
Chitti tries to apologize to Jai, who stands awkwardly, still held firmly by Cherry, eyes downcast and face sour. Chitti rushes after Kusa, his footsteps angry and fast. The curtain flutters again and the house is quiet.
Cherry doesn't speak, only rubs his palm over Jai's arm slowly, trying to soothe, trying to help. Jai sags under the attention, a long sigh escaping as he wilts.
"H-He is-" Jai swallows down a swell of emotion. "-still adjusting."
Cherry sways his head slowly and runs a hand over the soft bouncy curls at Jai's nape. He doesn't patronize Jai by calling them handsome, but he does think it. Eventually Cherry moves to the disheveled alter, gently setting the figures up straight, his own Chirutha among them. Cherry's fingers graze the cracks and crude glue job at its paw and tail. He seems to consider something with weight and then looks at Jai. Jai tries to smile.
"I thought I could take it in to be me-me-mended." Jai rasps.
"No." Cherry clips. Jai doesn't argue and Cherry studies the figure for another long stretch of silence.
"Can you come with me somewhere tomorrow? I want to show you something." Cherry asks, his eyes honest and round.
"Anywhere." Jai breathes.
Jai is startled awake by a frantic shake of his shoulder. It's only early evening but the room is dark and the bed is warm with sleep. Jai uncurls from Cherry gently and turns to see an upset and exhausted-looking Kusa standing in his room.
"Cut it." Kusa whispers harshly.
Jai watches Kusa rush to Jai's washroom and sit on a stool near the sink, something Kusa must have brought in himself. His body shakes and stutters as he waits and Jai very gently pulls himself from the bed, kissing Cherry's hair as he walks away. Cherry snuffles once but stays asleep.
Jai moves inside the washroom and shuts the door, finding his electric clippers out and a pair of dull scissors. Kusa looks on the verge of hysterics, his knee bouncing furiously and his face sad.
"Just cut it off!" Kusa demands. Jai's face twists and he yanks on Kusa's mess of a ponytail, causing the younger triplet to wince and cough.
"Cherry is sleeping!" Jai hisses. "You're ac-c-cting like a child!"
Kusa's face flushes red and Jai prepares himself for rage. Instead, Kusa breaks into sobs, heavy tears falling down his cheeks.
"Please, Jai! Just cut it!" Kusa begs and grabs for the clippers.
Jai's scowl falls and he eyes the tools with suspicion. He looks at Kusa through the mirror and takes the clippers reluctantly, bending to retrieve his longest head attachment. The clippers buzz on, they are old but reliable and Kusa cries as it passes over his scalp.
Jai works quietly, his hand gentle but firm. He keeps as much length as he can, pulling the clippers far from Kusa's head and stopping to opt for the scissors when he finds a knot. Kusa sniffles through the process and heaves as he feels clumps of damaged hair tumble to the floor.
"I hurt Chitti." Kusa rasps. Jai only hums.
"Did you hurt Cherry?" Kusa sniffs. "Why wasn't he there when you found us?"
Jai lets out a long sigh through his nose and pauses in his work. He wants to say he thought he was protecting Cherry but he knows that's a lie.
"I was afraid. I was selfish." Jai responds. "So I sent him away."
Kusa makes himself small, a rush of guilt and sorrow passing through him.
"I can't lose him." Kusa's voice is sad and thin. Jai puts the clippers down and presses his palm to Kusa's forehead as his younger brother sobs.
"He loves you." Jai offers awkwardly. Kusa only trembles and sucks on his lip.
"You always knew. Like me. You only fuck men." Kusa blurts, taking a deep breath. Jai sighs again.
"Yes." Jai confirms and switches the clippers back on.
"I like both." Kusa whispers.
"I know." Jai quips with a smile.
He does know. Kusa is just like the other bisexual men Jai has known, insufferable. Jai reflects on Cherry, and how different that was. Cherry was confused, assumed all sex was as bland as it felt with women, blinded by the euphoria of romance. Jai smirks to himself at helping Cherry see his misunderstanding.
"I don't think Lava knows what he likes." Kusa muses to himself, the tears starting to dry and the sniffing easing up.
"Lava likes boxes." Jai declares. "Lava needs everything to fit."
Kusa's face pinches and he shows his tongue.
"Idiot." Kusa huffs. Jai tries not to laugh but he does anyway.
"He won't understand will he?" Kusa whispers. "How hard it was for us."
Jai turns off the clippers again, his palm pulls back over the small curls on Kusa's scalp. Kusa's eyelids droop and he takes in a deep breath, letting it out.
"No." Jai answers. "-But he will feel guilty about it because he loves us."
Kusa's face crumples again and he looks at his short curls in the mirror. They aren't coiled and shiny like Jai's. They are confused and whispy, a mess of wire and frizz, unsure how to grow. Kusa starts to cry again, his face pinched and small. Pain pierces Jai's heart and he pulls his hand through Kusa's hair again.
"It's his hair isn't it?" Kusa squeaks. "Our father."
Jai's eyes widen as understanding washes through him but he smiles as it passes, nearly laughing.
"No, Thammudu. His ha-hair was straight too." Jai rasps. Kusa turns his neck fast to look up at Jai.
♫ "Our Grandfather." Jai explains. "Our mother's father."
"Taatha?" Kusa gasps, his eyes drying as he wipes at his nose.
"Our bodies too. Our father was tall and thin. Taatha was st-strong and st-stout, with tight curls like us." Jai finishes and Kusa's face goes warm with light.
Kusa turns, smiling into the mirror as Jai continues to rub at his new curls.
"Strong and stout." Kusa whispers. "Is there a photo? Is he still alive?"
Jai sighs and sways his head.
"He died when we were very small. I can show you a photo tomorrow." Jai replies.
Kusa nods, grateful for Jai's patience. Jai wipes at the short specks of hair on Kusa’s neck and the younger triplet stands to leave. They both consider hugging but eventually decide against it. Kusa sways awkwardly, wanting to say thank you but at a loss for the words.
"Cherry is good. You picked good." Kusa offers instead. Jai’s face twists but he sways his head. He opens his mouth to respond but Kusa starts to babble.
"He-He's so fucking beautiful, like some kind of doll, his eyelashes! -and Anna you look like- well you know, Jai how did you-"
"Good night Kusa." Jai grunts, pointing his hand to the door. Kusa laughs sweetly as he slithers out, making sure to step softly through the room and not wake Cherry.
When Jai returns to the warm bed, Cherry shifts to turn in Jai’s arms.
“Is he okay?” Cherry rasps, his voice thick with sleep.
“He will be alright.” Jai whispers and kisses Cherry’s head, pulling him closer for more sleep.
In the morning Jai will walk downstairs and catch Kusa sitting with Chitti on the stoop, the sun still low and the color of the air a withering blue. Chitti will kiss at the tears that tumble down Kusa's cheeks and hold his face tenderly, whispering things too low for Jai to hear.
Jai will leave them when they embrace, recognizing the relief and safety Kusa hides in Chitti's shoulder.
Cherry's somewhere is Hyderabad.
Jai happily hands over rupees for train tickets and Cherry beams at the gesture. They board their private car and immediately curl against each other to sleep, no longer needing a table between them or snacks or a book. When they wake and the train is still moving, Cherry traces Jai’s mustache with his finger, mapping his nose with his thumb. Jai only smiles, stretching his neck to nuzzle for a stolen kiss.
Eventually, they arrive and Hyderabad is loud. The auto they catch bumps along the road and Jai puts his hand softly over Cherry's. Cherry watches the city pass by and Jai watches Cherry.
When they stop, the sun is high and the afternoon is hot. Cherry's something is inside his flat. Jai isn't surprised that the space is small but he is bothered by how empty it is. The kitchen is bare and clean, the living space only shelves and a desk. Jai wants to ask where Cherry slept but guilt rushes through him strong enough to keep quiet.
Cherry wanders in and sighs, switching on a tiny radio by the window. Jai finally sees the shelf's contents and his heart sinks. The tall wobbly shelves are filled with figures, nearly all of them identical Chirutha porcelain figures. Some are perfect replicas, some have their pose changed, some look hideous and wrong, but they are all the same, little cheetas with small spots and sad eyes.
"I've been practicing." Cherry shrugs and moves to his desk.
The desk is covered in porcelain clay, plaster, stone dust, and paint. There are small cups with dirty brushes and rags stiff and stained. Cherry sits and gathers his tools, the creak of wood loud in the empty flat.
♫ "Come here." Cherry calls as he sets his original Chirutha gently on the desk.
"I want to fix her myself." Cherry whispers, shy at the admission.
Cherry grabs a small bottle of clear liquid with a thin nozzle attached. He gently applies it to the old glue that holds the paw and tail to the Cheetah's body. Jai notices a strong smell wafting into the air, like alcohol and hospitals. It takes a few squeezes and a few moments, but the paw and tail eventually tumble off, the liquid dissolving the glue easily. Cherry rubs gently at the severed pieces to dry them and then begins to gently sand each area until smooth.
Cherry grabs a nearby stone slab, small like a plate, and a small box of materials. He measures out small amounts of a fine powder and a thin odorless liquid. It's muddy and viscous and Cherry uses a flat mixing scraper to combine both into a sticky paste.
Jai watches Cherry work from across the table, the tiny wood stool creaking under his weight. Cherry hands Jai the Chiutha gently and instructs him to hold it still. Cherry puts his own hand gently over Jai's to keep it steady and uses a small brush with the other to apply the paste.
The areas missing a tail and paw are very tight. Cherry has to be very precise and patient with the application. He focuses intently on his task, his eyes squinted and his brows furrowed. Jai only keeps his hand still, waiting for further instruction while admiring Cherry's endearing expression.
"It's so delicate." Cherry whispers. "I wanted to practice first."
Jai looks at the shelves again. Each figure, almost every figure, is decorated with thin gold lines from breaks now repaired. Some are crude and thick and some swift and precise. Some lie crumpled and broken forever, a makeshift graveyard of snouts, paws, and tails.
"I made them myself, it was easier. I had a small kiln too." Cherry muses and smiles. "Once I had enough little Cheetahs, I sold it."
Jai can only listen, in awe of Cherry's strength once again. He wishes he knew what to say, to convey his pride. He tries not to spiral into how that makes him feel, how terrified he is that Cherry doesn't know how much he loves him.
"Okay hold it very still." Cherry interrupts Jai's sinking thoughts.
Jai listens and stays still as stone. Cherry takes both paw and tail and presses them firmly back where they belong. Cherry holds each limb firmly for a few beats then attaches thin strips of tape to secure them while they dry. Jai watches quietly and hums as both severed bits now sit firmly in place.
"The glue dries very quickly, we only need to wait a little." Cherry says as he sets the figure down gently.
Jai's hand reaches for Cherry's, his thin fingers soft from ceramic powder, dusted light against the rich color of his complexion.
"This is so-something I love in you." Jai whispers, trying to convey how proud he is. Cherry scoffs and tries to shrug away the compliment.
"You care." Jai rasps. "You fix things."
Cherry's face pinches at that and Jai's throat tightens at the expression.
"Maybe that explains us." Cherry murmurs low, almost to himself.
It stings and Jai doesn't hide the pain, he stiffens and pulls his touch away. Regret flashes over Cherry's face and he winces.
"Sorry, Jai-" Cherry tries to grab at Jai's hand but is interrupted.
"It's t-true. I was broken. I am only p-pieces without you." Jai confesses, shame coloring his features. Cherry considers the admission seriously, weighing his response before speaking.
"That doesn't work. You can't fix someone. We have to do it ourselves." Cherry swallows, trying to be gentle.
"I know." Jai says it like a plea. "That's w-w-why I am going to Harsheli."
"Yes. Harsheli." Cherry says her name slowly like it's a piece he keeps forgetting to add to the puzzle, and when he slots it in, the wider picture shows itself. Cherry breathes out and picks up the Chirutha gently.
"It's dry." Cherry explains and takes the sandpaper again to smooth the glued veins flat.
Cherry pushes at dust gently with a brush then preps a new paste. There is no white powder this time but Cherry gently unfolds a tiny square of wax paper. Inside is a very small amount of dust that glitters gold.
“Don’t breathe on it.” Cherry says quietly “It’s very fine and expensive.”
Cherry scoops the gold dust to mix with a clearer, thicker base. Cherry takes a deep breath as he eyes the repaired veins and lowers his gold-tipped brush. The gold epoxy is applied gently, just like the glue before it. Layered delicately, it shines under the warm yellow light of the empty flat and Cherry smiles at his good craftmanship.
"There," Cherry breathes and hands out the small paintbrush for Jai to hold.
"There's one part left, here." Cherry turns the cheetah to show Jai the small black square at the end of the vein that connects the tail.
"Just go slow." Cherry smiles and holds the Cheetah still.
Jai swallows, taking the brush with trembling fingers. He grips it firmly, trying to settle his nerves, and gets close to the figure to focus in. He takes his time and kisses the porcelain with the brush, welling a gold drop and deftly pulling back. It's a small addition, no different from the rest, but Jai lets out a shudder of relief. He wants it to be right, he wants Cheery to know he cares.
Cherry takes the Chirutha back and settles it gently on a drying stand, smiling at Jai as he does.
"It should hold." Cherry says. "The glue is strong."
Cherry stands from the desk carefully and moves through the flat. Jai doesn't need instruction, he moves to follow.
Jai sits against a wall and Cherry settles between his legs, leaning his back against Jai's chest. Jai can't help but wrap his arms around Cherry, staying close, soaking in Cherry's warmth.
They sit in silence, enjoying their privacy, Cherry hums along to the little radio by the desk and Jai does his best to restrain himself from kissing every inch of Cherry that his lips can reach. He settles on touching skin, grazing fingertips and warm palms over muscle. Cherry hums, relaxing into the embrace.
"What changed?" Cherry asks in a small voice. "Why is it so easy to love me now?"
Memories rush through the both of them, how hard it was for Jai to accept affection, to get close, to let Cherry know how much he cared.
Why is it different now? How can I trust this?
Jai freezes, his heart jumping, his throat tight. He begs his body to calm, to say the words he needs to say.
"Loving you was always easy." Jai whispers against Cherry's neck. Cherry makes a sad noise and tries to hide his face.
"I-I don't k-know why, I don't-" Jai struggles to answer, swallowing hard and thinking deeply. He is letting Cherry down, his throat burns and he is going to fail this test. Jai tries again but his voice disappears and Cherry stops him.
"Okay. Okay." Cherry moves to soothe Jai, a soft hand at his throat, petting with care, loosening the muscles that stiffen and shiver. Cherry presses a soft kiss to Jai's neck and nuzzles back into the embrace.
"I believe you." Cherry whispers.
Cherry waits for their breathing to calm then lifts himself on thin ankles to walk to the desk. He takes the Chirutha gently and brings it back to Jai. Sitting back against him again, Cherry studies the small figurine. The gold lays in the porcelain beautifully and the little scars add to her coat's color and spots.
Jai puts his lips to Cherry's ear and Cherry hums, satisfied with their work. Jai's hands come out to cup Cherry's to admire the figurine, his thumbs brushing Cherry's knuckles.
"She who is your very soul, entrusted this to me." Jai murmurs tenderly. Cherry scoffs.
"My Chudamani?" Cherry teases.
"The pearl. If this is yours, then you are mine." Jai vows. Cherry moves and turns to face Jai tenderly when they both freeze, interrupted by the radio.
Both of their bodies swell as Jaamu Rathiri eases softly into the room, its gentle melody a vibration between their hearts. Cherry laughs and Jai hums squeezing the smaller man closer.
"Why do u like this song so much?" Jai whispers. Cherry huffs happily.
“She is scared, and he sings her a lullaby, to make her feel safe.” Cherry explains.
"I want to make you feel that way." Jai says in a small voice, hiding himself in Cherry's shoulder.
Cherry's chest flutters, he holds the Chirutha tighter as Jai starts to sing.
"Jamurathiri jabilamma, jola paadana ila
Jorugalilo jaji komma, jaraneeyake kala
Vayyari valu kallalona
Varala vendi poola vaana
Swarala ooyalugu vela"
[ Moon of the early light
Oh Jasmine twig in strong winds, do not let the dream slip
In the gracious beautiful eyes
The silver rain of tears
At the time when Swaras swing back and forth ]
Jai's voice is soft and his singing is off-key. Cherry laughs sweetly through it, then turns to face him.
"I forgive you." Cherry says easily, with quiet tears on his cheeks. Like silver rain.
Jai's face falls, he does his best to keep himself together, overwhelmed with relief and love. He answers Cherry with a long kiss and trembling hands. When Cherry finally pulls back, Jai looks sad, his eyes shining with loss.
"I will understand-" Jai swallows and looks around at the small flat. "-If you decide to stay."
Cherry's face is bright as he laughs.
"Do you think I could live here? Like this?" Cherry motions to the empty rooms. "Jai, I ended my flat contract four days ago. Rishi helped sell and give my things away."
Jai's face crumples again, moving to hide it against Cherry's shoulder. Cherry pushes Jai's shoulders to face him, giving Jai another kiss to seal his decision, their mended Chirutha resting between them.
Jai helps Cherry empty the flat. They take trash bags of porcelain shards to the street for pickup. Cherry tells Jai he doesn't need to keep them, the figurines served their purpose.
They dismantle the shelves and desk and take them out too. They clean what little needs to be cleaned and Jai helps Cherry pack his red backpack with the few pieces of clothing Cherry decided to keep. He looks small as he holds it to his chest and Jai resists the urge to shield him with his body, to protect him from a world that has hurt them both in so many different ways. Cherry only smiles and they walk out together.
"I need to stop somewhere before the train." Cherry explains. Jai nods and follows.
They walk a few blocks north and when they get to a busy street, Cherry hands Jai his bag and asks him to wait. Jai obeys and he watches Cherry walk to a busy food stand, cooks handing out Dosa on styrofoam plates.
Jai watches Cherry stop and the cooks startle with movement. A small man emerges from them, old and happy. He runs to Cherry with a shout and wraps him in his short arms.
Cherry seems to laugh and they talk fast, too far away for Jai to hear. He can see the man is kind, happy to see Cherry, and even more excited to hear him speak. Jai stands awkwardly outside of the conversation, clutching the bag tightly, letting his hands wander to feel the small Chirutha, protected inside by Cherry's clothing.
"I want you to have it." Cherry insists. Ravindar shakes his head wildly. "No, no, no! It is too big and I am old!"
"You will find someone to pass it to! It is your Dosa, I can't stay." Cherry smiles, his cheeks round and happy.
Ravindar sighs, feeling defeated, and hugs Cherry again. When he pulls away, his lip trembles, sorrow at having to say goodbye.
“Another life?” Ravindar looks over Cherry’s shoulder at Jai and smiles. Cherry laughs gently as tears fall down his cheeks.
“Yes. I think so.” Cherry responds. Ravindar hums and studies Jai. He looks ruffled and worried as he waits for Cherry to return to him.
“Good good. Have many of them.” Ravindar whispers then smirks.
“He looks good. Scared too. Like he is afraid he will lose you.” Ravindar jokes. Cherry’s face crumples and he sways his head with a sad smile.
“If he does. He is wrong.” Cherry rasps, not looking back at Jai. Ravindar pats his shoulder approvingly.
“You must love. It is what life asks for! I was blessed with so much of it.” Ravindar starts to cry too and hugs Cherry again, his head resting low on Cherry’s shoulder.
“I don’t want to lose you.” Cherry warbles against Ravindar’s neck. Ravindar tuts and pulls back.
“Nobody is ever really lost. You know that.” Ravindar assures him with honest eyes, still wet and soft. Cherry sways his head, wiping at his cheeks.
“And if I am.” Ravindar continues. “I know you will find me again.” Cherry laughs and bobs his head again, sniffling the last of his tears.
Jai watches as they hug again and Cherry pulls away slowly. When he makes it back to Jai, they find an auto and fold in softly. Jai watches him with unspoken questions. Cherry watches Hyderabad whip by as the auto drives them towards the train station.
“Who was-“ Jai starts.
“Family.” Cherry interrupts, his voice cold.
Jai nods, understanding, but his face is pained, the guilt and space between them an ache. Cherry reaches out a hand, placing it over Jai’s, and looks at him with soft eyes. Jai’s anxiety is eased when all he can see in them is love.
"Jai. Listen to me." Cherry rasps, squeezing Jai's hand tighter between them. "I am choosing you. Do you understand?"
Jai swallows thickly and sways his head with a shakey breath. Cherry's expression softens and he leans forward quickly for a kiss. It's firm and full of meaning and Jai can hear the beetles sing as the sun sets behind them.
Chapter 20: Thammudu
Summary:
Learning how to listen isn’t as easy as it sounds.
Chapter Text
"Kush! Kushh, K-K-usu!" Jai calls to his brother, his small voice ringing out and rattling off the evening reeds that sway in the wind.
The thin boy walks as quickly as his short legs can take him, Lava toddles behind him, trying to hide. The sun is low on the horizon and both brothers search the open field frantically. Lava makes anxious sounds, afraid of what they will find. Eventually, a shivering figure emerges from the tall grass, a tiny hand holding his face.
“Thammudu!” Jai calls out and he and Lava run faster toward their missing sibling.
Kusa holds his little nose tentatively as blood seeps sluggishly down his face and between trembling fingers. Jai looks worried and then stiffens in anger.
“Those boys!” Jai exclaims and balls his hands into fists. Kusa nods sadly in response and continues to sulk.
“They said things about amma.” Kusa rasps and lowers his eyes. The tears finally come and then a terrible wince at the pain that crying triggers.
Jai makes a sad sound but stays firm. He uses a small scarf he keeps at his hip to press at Kusa’s face. It’s soft and Kusa shudders against it. Lava, no longer having Jai’s hand to clutch, moves to grip an arm for comfort.
“Mama is mad Kusu. We have to go back for the show!” Lava demands and Kusa’s face crumples again.
“He will see my nose!” Kusa warbles through tears.
They all know the anger and wrath Kusa will have to endure when they return and their uncle sees his battered face. It goes unsaid that Mama’s cruelty is something usually reserved only for Jai, but nobody is safe from Mama.
The walk back is long and anxious. When they finally arrive at the teetering stage, the audience is beginning to gather. Mama finds them immediately, like a hornet tracking its scent, ready and eager to sting.
Mama drags them into a tent, into shadow, a place devoid of eyes and whispers. Here Mama’s authority towers, here the boys are not safe. They try to explain themselves, they beg Mama to believe Kusa, but the show will be compromised. Kush, son of Maa Sita, can’t go on stage with a swollen nose!
Mama yells, he corners them and stands tall in his rage. Jai tries to speak and stammers and it only makes things worse. They are afraid of Mama like this. They are always afraid of him.
Mama tugs sharply on Kusa’s arm in a fit and Jai shoves. Jai is young and scared and he knows deep down he shouldn’t do it, he should stay quiet and invisible and let Mama's wrath exhaust itself on someone else, but Kusa is hurt. Kusa is his brother.
“He fell! I t-t-told him to jump! I hate this show! I hate you!” Jai screams and Lava and Kusa latch to each other and pull away, finding safety, becoming invisible.
The slap is hard and loud, Jai crumples easily, his tiny body curled on the dirt floor of the traveling tent. Jai's face is sad and angry and expresses a dozen more complicated feelings a nine-year-old shouldn’t know how to feel. Mama still yells and Jai endures his beating.
Lava and Kusa run, and when Jai catches his mother’s eyes, she turns away.
Jai will have to fight this alone.
"He won't stop asking about it. I think it's a fantastic idea but Kusa seems more excited than Jai and this would be for him." Lava explains, setting the small Ganesh figure down.
Kumar hums as they continue to push their way through the market, enjoying the day’s light breeze and low humidity, even amidst the sweltering crowd.
"The stage is only used for public events, speeches, and announcements. Sometimes it serves as a platform for festivals but rarely rehearsed performances." Kumar offers and smiles as Lava coos at the fresh flower stand.
Kumar puts a bright flower petal between his thumb and finger, rubbing the silken surface with a blush, wondering if Lava likes yellow or pink. He shakes himself of the thought and pulls his hand back swiftly, pursing his lips in embarrassment. Lava only smiles warmly and bops the small flower himself before moving on. Kumar follows and clears his throat.
“Both the stage and shed are practically abandoned. The man who directed public performances died when I was young. I can’t see anyone objecting to using it.” Kumar smiles as Lava’s body swells in happiness.
“The children would love it.” Kumar laughs.
“Good! Wonderful! I will need to watch Kusa of course, to ensure this is something that actually helps, but regardless, I do think it would be fun!” Lava presses his palms together and smiles again, it’s sunny and sweet and Kumar melts in its warm glow.
They continue their walk, bashful in each other’s presence but happy to be close again. Lava worries his lip as they pass food and jewelry stands in comfortable silence.
“I suppose it’s time we take our meeting with the society. Hopefully, they see reason and correct their mistakes.” Lava says reluctantly, anxious to end their partnership so soon. Kumar only shrugs.
“I’d prefer not to rush it.” Kumar says very quickly. “There are just a few more families I want to speak to first. Best to come prepared with as much evidence as we can find. Make it difficult to deny the obvious.”
Lava’s face warms at the suggestion and he moves his eyes to his feet, trying to conceal the blush that rushes to the apple of his cheeks. He tempers the excitement that passes through him too and tries to look distracted by the fried snacks being made next to them.
“I trust your judgment.” Lava rasps and lets himself feel the relief that suggestion brings, clutching to the excuse of politics and finance to continue to spend time together.
They resume their walk and Lava can feel the warmth that radiates from Kumar's hand as it swings so close to his own. His heart wonders how terrible it would be to bridge the few millimeters between their knuckles, to stretch his fingers and graze Kumar’s warm skin. Lava’s pulse thrums under his skin and he nearly shudders in restraint. His breaking point is interrupted by a questioning thought.
“Did you say a shed?”
It isn't exactly like the theater room in Lanka. The wooden shed is wide but old and dusty with age. Cherry sits watching Jai and Kusa rummage through costumes and props. The smaller man is settled on an old dresser filled with plastic jewelry, busy eating a snack.
Jai smiles at Cherry while they work and when Kusa rushes away, rambling about swords and bows, Jai leaves their mess to move closer to his love. Cherry takes another big bite when Jai reaches gently into a fold in his lungi to show Cherry something special.
"Oh." Cherry gasps, holding his fist close to his mouth to hide his chewing.
Jai holds a modest jewelry box, velvet and dark, only slightly larger than his palm.
"You liked them in Lanka?" Jai whispers and pulls the two thin gold bangles from their velvet case.
Cherry does remember his bangles. They weren’t solid gold like these but they were still fitted and expensive. He had bought them for himself, a purchase that let him know he was safe, that he had money, food, and a home.
“I sold them.” Cherry rasps and Jai’s face falls. Cherry sighs at how sensitive Jai has become.
"For Ravindar’s cart.” Cherry reassures and swallows. “Thank you.”
Cherry smiles as Jai sags in relief then tilts forward. He leans up with lidded eyes, the motion becoming a ritual in their day-to-day lives now. Jai takes the familiar cue and presses forward for a chaste kiss. Their mustaches always scratch together and Cherry always laughs breathlessly.
Kusa mumbles and coughs, trying to be loud as he returns.
"Chitti said it was only a stage! He didn't mention this!" Kusa shuffles behind them, shouting and grabbing at a nearby gada to throw over his shoulder.
Jai pulls away from Cherry reluctantly to continue to sift through costumes, kicking up dust into sunlight. It is safe to assume that the old storage shed of props hasn't been touched in years, let alone rifled through for performances. Jai grunts at most of the pieces, cheaply made and withering from age, but some are salvageable, handmade, and strong.
Jai holds up a small crown and waves it playfully towards Cherry, a half grin making his cheeks round. Cherry eats his food sweetly and smiles back at Jai with a blush.
"Not as good as your collection eh, Jai?" Kusa says from across the shed and sways the gada back and forth.
"Did you see it, Cherries?!" Kusa asks brightly.
Cherry's blush burns brighter and his eyes snap to Jai. Jai keeps his grin up but fakes an exasperated grunt.
"It's Cherry." Jai corrects and Kusa lets out a sarcastic hum.
Kusa reluctantly repeats the name to affirm his mistake, except he speaks with his hand as well as his voice. It's something Jai has noticed a few times now and he assumes Kusa doesn't realize he's doing it. He doesn't sign full sentences, only single words, but Jai does recognize them. It startled him most when Kusa used his hand to form the letter J when he spoke Jai's name. Jai ignores it this time but packs the conversation away for later.
"These aren't as heavy, are they Jai?" Kusa bounces the gada and tosses it back and forth between his hands.
"They aren't g-g-gold." Jai says. Kusa barks a surprised laugh.
“Guess we won’t have things like that now. Guess it’s all gone.” Kusa tries to play it off lightly like it’s funny, or a rib to Jai’s financial shift. But Jai can read Kusa's undertones. His brows pinch and he tosses the crown.
“You know we are f-fine, Kush.” Jai mumbles.
Kusa scrunches his nose at the endearment, sour memories of the sweeter names they would hear when they were little. Kusa continues to roll the gada and his expression shifts to contemplation.
“How do I know? I get my own money. I don’t see anything. It’s not mine.” Kusa huffs.
Jai takes the declaration seriously for a moment. Kusa makes a face Jai recognizes, something from when they were young, the face his brother would make when he was anxious.
“Lava showed you.” Jai swallows and his eyes dart to Cherry, suddenly a bit embarrassed to discuss money so openly.
“In your room? That old box? It’s all in there?!” Kusa exclaims, referencing the locked safe in Jai’s closet.
“No accounts?! No banks?!” Kusa asks with genuine shock.
“I’m m-m-moving things around.” Jai grits through his teeth. “It takes time to dismantle my work.”
Jai doesn’t mention Lava’s prattling complaints about Jai’s slow dismantling. Kusa huffs heavy and sharp through his nose. Cherry eats a little quieter. Jai tries to keep his hands busy folding and pulling costumes.
“Do you n-need money?” Jai asks tentatively. Kusa’s head whips up and flashes annoyance.
“No!” Kusa barks and the gada drops with a loud thud to the floor.
“I have my own! I probably have more money than you! Lava is the one to worry about! Throwing away millions like an idiot to men who are worse thieves than me!” Kusa huffs again, stomping around and rummaging for his things.
“You do this!" Kusa tosses costumes into the air and rushes around.
"Big rich Rakshasas ! Kissing your little pandu.” Kusa fakes a retching noise and coughs, scurrying to try and leave the shed in a cloud of dust.
Cherry barks a noise, upset at the demonic insult, but Kusa is already kicking his way out the door.
“I’ll go find my Chitti! We can be poor and alone and not have to see all this-“
Kusa stops before leaving and makes sharp kissing sounds with his lips. Jai throws a sandal at the door and it slams shut on Kusa’s maniacal laugh.
Kusa loves the cornfields, it feels safe here, like he and Chitti can do anything and nobody will ever see them. Usually, this leads to very fun and exciting new activities, but today, Kusa needs privacy for comfort. Today Kusa needs Chitti to listen.
They huddle around the old phone together, it picks up a weak signal but it’s enough to play videos and music. Their knees bounce together, almost in sync, as they try to listen and stay focused. Chitti pulls at his ear as they watch and Kusa offers positive quips close enough for Chitti to hear but quiet enough to not speak over the video. Chitti settles and warms to the endearing way Kusa tries to calm him.
He is good at that, Chitti thinks. He makes people feel good.
They practice the lesson together and then repeat it back to each other when the video ends. Today’s lesson wasn’t as complicated as some can be and Chitti admires how the words dart from his mind to his hands so quickly now. He used to be slower, and he used to be so afraid.
Chitti remembers the first lesson and the terrible fight from that day. Kusa had sprung it on him too fast, too demanding. Chitti had lashed out, afraid of the kind of danger it could put them in if anyone found out.
“I can’t! I don’t need that!” Chitti had said stubbornly, crossing his arms and pouting. Kusa wouldn’t let it go.
“What if it gets worse?!” Kusa had yelled, loud enough to go over the corn stalks, loud enough for Chitti to shush him.
“What if it goes to the other ear, chinni?! If your hearing goes away completely?!” Kusa’s face had crumpled then, his voice going thin.
“How will I talk to you?” Kusa had whimpered.
The unfair truth was a hard pebble to swallow, but Kusa’s ache was enough to sway Chitti's mind. Kusa had promised it would only be for them, to learn together, to have a way to speak.
“Like a secret language just for us.” Kusa had assured him.
And he was right. They sign short sentences and jokes and use their palms to say ‘I love you.’ It does feel like a secret, a way Chitti can hear Kusa that nobody else can. It’s different from making words from lips. Sometimes Chitti thinks it feels like kissing, like a different way of being in love.
“When will they teach us the dirty words?” Kusa whispers and they both laugh.
Kusa gets a kiss for his good humor and one kiss turns to more and soon Chitti too is grateful for the privacy of corn fields.
Jai is used to the noise now, it can comfort him if it stays low enough. People come through the house at all hours. Cherry with his sweet smile and soft touch, Kumar and Lava with stolen glances, chirping about new dinner recipes, finance, and politics.
Then Kusa and Chitti, two wildfires yelling out about village gossip or new fishing spots. Kusa is getting louder. A habit picked up at Chitti’s house to accommodate Chitti’s needs. It doesn’t bother Jai too much, except at this point he’s convinced it isn’t needed. He can see what his brother has been up to with his friend.
It happens again today, Jai sees it. Jai is cutting Cherry fruit at the counter when Chitti rushes into the house. Kusa waits on the porch, organizing their things for the day and Chitti helps himself. He grabs some leftover food for their lunches and calls out to Kusa, his hand moving rapidly on instinct as he does. Jai sees it.
“It might not be e-enough.” Jai rasps.
Chitti’s head swings up, a look of surprise on his rushing features. Chitti and Jai don’t talk, they don’t have much reason to and they both struggle to understand each other. It bothers Jai to think that Chitti may be afraid of him.
Chitti shifts uncomfortably but then pulls at his ear and tilts until Jai repeats himself, only this time Jai uses his hands to speak too. Chitti startles and his face colors in embarrassment.
“I’ve heard Lava and Kumar talking about the he-hearing-aid you refuse to wear.” Jai says sternly and Chitti’s face pinches.
When Jai signs and gets to a word he stammers on, his lips stop and his voice disappears, using his hands to say the word before continuing to speak.
“This-” Jai emphasizes his signing. “-won’t be enough, unless everyone will l-l-learn.”
Chitti’s face is a scowl, he passes his weight back and forth between his feet, upset and uncomfortable.
“I don’t care. I only need to hear Kusa.” Chitti whispers and continues scooping the tiffin full. Jai bristles.
“I need-” Jai huffs and his signing moves stiffly. “-someone who can fight for Kusa.”
“I-I can fight! I can protect him!” Chitti exclaims, his face rigid and serious, his hands moving frantically. Jai growls.
“Not if you can’t-” Jai points to his ear while he signs “-hear danger.”
Chitti recoils and lowers his head. Jai could be right. Chitti has had numerous close moments in his life where his ear made things dangerous. He remembers the look of horror and sorrow on his mother’s face when she pulled him from the busy road in the city, the oncoming traffic nearly hitting the small boy who couldn’t hear their rumbling engines. Chitti rubs at his ear as he looks up at Jai with a guilty expression. Jai turns back to his fruit.
“Wear it. If only at night and in the city.” Jai clips.
Chitti watches curiously as Jai’s expression looks withered, tired from carrying a weight neither man can see.
Pathetic, Kusa thinks as he studies the large safe in Jai's closet.
“Big rich king of Lanka can't tell the difference between a real safe and garbage.” Kusa mumbles and flicks open his lock-pick.
He lets himself listen for any noise in the house, any movement or voices. When it sounds safe, Kusa gets to work. It doesn’t take long to pop open the heavy door, held together by weak pins.
Kusa nearly giggles at the pile of rupees he finds. He doesn’t believe it’s all Jai owns, it’s still too little, but it’s more than he and Chitti will need. After stuffing the money into an old backpack, Kusa turns to leave but stops at the image of his mother, pinned to the edge of Jai’s mirror. He has the same photograph in his room, now packed in his bag. He wishes he knew her better. He wishes he wasn’t so angry. He won't let her memory ruin this.
Kusa’s eyes try to pull away but they catch the gaze of three small faces in another photograph. Small bodies and small curls and small smiles as they try to pose the way Mama wants them. Kusa’s face pulls and tries to crumple but he won't let them ruin this either. That isn’t who they are anymore.
Kusa’s brothers died in that fire. Chitti is all he has left.
“Him?” Cherry asks and points to a tall man in the crowd. Chitti huffs a laugh and smirks in the handsome man’s direction.
“Only twice.” Chitti chirps and pops a pistachio into his mouth.
They continue to snack together as they watch people mill and weave near the riverbank. Cherry keeps his smile to himself but his eyes stay round and bright, seeking out other potential secrets in the throng of villagers.
“Are there men that are…more than twice?” Cherry whispers in awe and chews his pistachios thoughtfully.
Chitti only smirks and tilts his head. Cherry follows the tilt with his eyes and finds Kasi in the crowd, laughing and twirling a strand of errant hair. Cherry’s face lights up brighter and he stifles a small laugh, covering his mouthful of nuts with his palm.
“Not anymore though.” Chitti huffs and lets his face turn sour. “Idiot wastrel isn’t worth it.”
Cherry laughs again and Chitti cracks a smile. They continue to people-watch and whisper until both their gazes land on a familiar figure. Kusa bounces past people, saying hello and laughing, a glowing point in the crowd, sweet and almost overwhelming in the energy he brings. When Cherry turns to Chitti, he catches the softness in his eyes that springs at the distant image of the man he loves.
Cherry enjoys the stolen moment before Chitti shakes himself from his seat and stands. Cherry says his goodbyes and watches Chitti rush to the man who beams in his direction.
“We don’t have to stay chinni, see!? We can do anything now!” Kusa exclaims, breathless and hopeful.
Chitti recoils, the dumped-out rupees at his feet an untrustworthy gift. They are alone again in another cornfield and the insects buzz curiously at Kusa’s treasure.
“Where did it come from?” Chitti rasps, his brows down, the dry grass of the field crunching as he steps back.
Kusa doesn’t answer, instead stuffing the money back into his sack and rambling about America, passports, big houses, and cheeseburgers. Chitti tries to move away from his erratic lover but Kusa jolts and grabs at Chitti’s arm.
“We can get married! We can be happy now!” Kusa pleads and Chitti’s face twists. He yanks his arm out of Kusa’s hold and his eyes turn wet.
“I am happy!” Chitti yells. Kusa’s face flushes with sorrow, a realization hitting and his expression bruised.
“Put this back gundello, wherever it came from. This is home, we stay here, with family.” Chitti pleads. Kusa’s expression goes rigid.
He knew it was inevitable. Kusa doesn’t stay places, Kusa doesn’t want a home, Kusa moves and leaves and runs and finds new people to be family. He had hoped Chitti would be different. He had hoped he finally found someone to run with him.
The tears are warm and heavy. Chitti pleads with him to stop, to come back to the village but the pain is too much.
Kusa has been alone for this long, he will be alone in America too.
Jai pulls on the iron door wide enough to slam it like thunder. His yell is loud and angry as he barrels down the stairs of their home and nearly knocks Lava over on his way out.
“Don’t be angry!” Lava screeches after Jai. “You tried to kill him!”
Jai stops in his tracks in the front yard, his lungs heaving and fists clenched. His mind thanks Karma that Cherry is at Rangamma’s right now and not here to bear witness to how loud Jai’s feelings can be. Lava putters behind him, reaching out to soothe and placate.
“It was hardest for him.” Lava breathes. “What have we done to make him want to stay?”
“Hardest for h-h-im!?” Jai roars, the fire in his chest burning molten. Lava’s stance remains rigid and confident.
“I had my father. You had Kaakha and new brothers.” Lava explains.
Jai’s heart twists at the flashing memory of Tapan and Sekhar’s lifeless forms. He aches at Lava’s missing description of sister, deflating in sorrow at his own reluctance to ever tell his brothers about her.
“Who did Kusa have?” Lava asks gently.
Jai’s eyes close in frustration, his mind trying to temper the way his blood boils, rattled by the reach and control Raavan still has on him.
“He lied in that car.” Jai grinds through his teeth. “He be-begged for me to live, then steals from me.”
“He didn’t want to watch his brother die!” Lava says exasperated and a little angry. “That doesn’t mean he forgives you.”
Jai’s muscles finally wilt, the tension snapping. He shifts his eyes to look at Lava, and the worried expression he finds is sobering.
“Please bring him back home.” Lava whispers and turns back to the house, rushing inside to make sure his cooking doesn’t burn.
“Kusa!” Jai’s voice is strained with anger as Kusa tries to waddle faster down the dirt road leading out of the village.
“Don’t follow me! I’m leaving!” Kusa shouts over his shoulder and scowls at his older brother’s grunt.
Kusa clutches the backpack close to his chest and nearly starts running when Jai, in some Olympic feat, catches up to him and yanks at Kusa’s arm.
“Stop!” Jai shouts and Kusa grunts, pushing his body against Jai to try and wiggle away.
They shuffle around for a bit, Kusa making desperate sounds and clutching his backpack even tighter, nearly kicking Jai in the shin to get away. They may be identical but Jai carries more strength in his shoulders and holds himself heavier. He pushes his weight into it, grabs at the backpack, and yanks it easily away. Kusa’s face flashes panic and fear. The emotion surprises Jai and makes his muscles wilt.
“I need it!” Kusa shouts, his hands balled into fists and his face pained. “I know you have more, you greedy liar!”
Jai’s face twists in annoyance and a hint of guilt. Kusa is right, but that isn’t enough to sway him.
“I need this for Chitti!” Kusa’s voice pitches higher. “We can be safe and get married and have a home! America has-”
Kusa stops, clamping his mouth shut but his eyes swell with sorrow and his face rushes with color.
“America has surgeries and-” Kusa stops to swallow and winces at the confession. “-implants.” Kusa puts a hand gently to the side of his head and holds his ear gently.
Jai huffs, exasperated and exhausted.
“We have that too, thammudu.” Jai says it softly, uncomfortable with how little Kusa knows regarding the limitations of his life, and how his struggle has stunted his understanding of his own country.
“We do?” Kusa rasps and clutches at himself.
Jai sighs again in response and hands the backpack out for Kusa to take. Kusa's expression is soft as he takes the bag, but twists again in annoyance as he turns to keep walking.
"It won't matter! They don't want us here!" Kusa shouts. "They won't let us marry! They want to kill us!"
Kusa's voice is sad at the end and he angrily wipes away tears as he walks, knowing his brother is still following behind him.
"He won't forgive you!" Jai yells at Kusa's back. "If you leave Chitti, you will lose him!"
Kusa spins around again, angry and loud.
"Don't talk to me about him! You don't know anything! I will come back and beg like you! Cherry understood when you left him, eh?" Kusa scowls, unbothered by Jai's sad eyes and wilting expression.
"Chitti will understand too!" Kusa finishes. Jai looks rung out, upset and reluctant, but he responds softly.
"Chitti isn't Ch-Ch-Cherry." Jai rasps.
The confession looks like it’s painful for Jai, the words slicing through his vocal cords to reveal themselves, forgotten thorns of the parts of their past he doesn't share with his brothers.
"Cherry was alone. He didn't have what Chitti does. Pe-people. Family." Jai swallows again and tries to ignore the look of embarrassed pity on Kusa's face.
Jai wants to swallow these sharp truths, turn from Kusa, and go back to Raavan once again, but-
Kusa is hurt. Kusa is his brother.
"Ch-Cherry understood because we were both alone. Chitti won't understand why you would leave him, because the people who love him stay." Jai finishes sternly.
Kusa sags, a sense of defeat and acceptance overwhelms him, and his body feels pulled back to the comfort of his brother’s, like infants intertwined in a womb, or strapped down in a prison.
“Come home. Let me show you something, and then you can leave if you still want to.” Jai offers softly.
“With the money?” Kusa asks, confused.
Jai sways his head yes and turns around, knowing Kusa will follow him.
The floor of their small home is comfortable and cool. Kusa sits on his stool, wiggling impatiently, with his two brothers as they shuffle and whisper about documents. Lava was pulled from his cooking and wears his very smart, thin glasses to read. Jai squints, having left his glasses in Lanka, and Kusa wonders if their prescription is identical, too.
“Here-” Jai points to a bundle of papers he flattens and holds together. “This is my living will.”
Kusa’s eyes widen at the declaration and he stretches his neck slightly to glance at the papers in Jai’s hand. He still clutches the backpack Jai allows him to keep and tightens his grip every few moments to feel it’s still safe.
“It lists the distribution of my assets here.” Jai points again but Kusa just ruffles at the implication he wouldn’t know what a will is.
“The rest of my-” Jai pauses and swallows. “-wealth is distributed among properties I own in Odisha. Lava has been unta-ta-tangling the legalities to sell them off without arousing suspicion of my work or our location.”
Jai turns to Lava and he smiles warmly, pushing the rim of his glasses up his nose and swaying his head assuringly towards Kusa.
“The funds are being distributed between two different accounts just to be safe. It took time.” Lava quips. “-but there is only one listing left.”
Lava’s eyes slit and turn to the side, studying Jai as the older brother clears his throat, uncomfortable. Jai pulls a longer slip from the bottom of the stack of papers, this one colored pink and thick.
“This is the deed for this property.” Jai explains, motioning to the home around them. “It is under my name right now, and is included in my will."
Jai pauses and reaches around for his pen.
“Lava and I talked-” Jai turns to Lava for reassurance and Lava notches his head with warmth. “-we think we should change it.”
Kusa’s brows furrow but his grip on the backpack loosens.
“My will directs that my assets be split between you both following my death.” Jai says bluntly and Kusa’s face nearly falls in surprise. Jai opens his mouth to speak but Lava interrupts him.
“-But this is our home.” Lava rasps and Jai nods, a little less uncomfortable.
“We’ve redrafted the d-deed to add both you and Lava as owners of the property.” Jai deadpans. “If one of us dies, the ownership will split between the other two, and the same when the next dies.”
Kusa’s mouth gapes, but then closes gently as he eyes the papers. Jai clears his throat anxiously, not used to being so earnest with Kusa.
“If you sign today, you will own part of our home.” Jai clarifies and holds the paper out further. “If I or Lava die, this will still belong to you.”
Kusa’s eyes go softer and wider, darting between the two men.
“Mine?” Kusa whispers.
“If you sign today and leave, it will still be yours. No ma-matter how far you go or how long you are gone, this will always be here and it will always be yours.” Jai says sternly, his eyes honest and serious.
“You can always come home.” Jai finishes softly. Kusa does his best to pretend he doesn’t feel a sudden wave of emotion and connection flush through his body.
Suddenly the backpack feels softer, warmer, washed a thousand times under the sun by her tired hands, diligent and kind, like the worn fabric of a scarf Jai would carry with him when he was young, forever stained with spots of Kusa’s blood.
"K-Kush-" Jai stops to swallow, a new hesitancy arising. "I need-If I die-"
Jai fumbles over words and emotions he's afraid Kusa won't accept. Kusa watches as Lava puts a soft hand on Jai's back in support. Kusa would be lying if he said a pang of jealousy didn't hit him hard at the sight, followed by a deep confusion at the rush of it. Jai clears his throat.
"If I die, I need to know Cherry will be okay. He has no fa-fa-family. We cannot be married. I'm-" Jai stops again, the words an ache, a plea. He lets his wet eyes finish whatever sentiments he had left and Kusa exhales in defeat, eventually nodding. Kusa understands that fear, that part of love. Lava lets out his breath to join in the connection.
"Can Chitti and I have a room?" Kusa whispers and both his brothers smile and notch their heads together, almost in sync.
Kusa smiles in relief and Lava pushes at Jai once more, a gentle shove on his back. Jai growls.
"I am sorry I tried to kill you both." Jai blurts.
Kusa blinks. Once, twice, and then bursts into wild laughter. He yanks the pen from Jai's fist and signs the deed quickly. Lava babbles something about a notary but Kusa is too entertained by Jai, ignoring the legalities.
"Why are we all gays Jai?! I thought we liked girls when we were young!" Kusa laughs.
Lava turns the color of a bright strawberry and Jai starts to laugh.
When all is said and done, the three brothers walk upstairs together to put the money back into the safe.
Chitti has to find Kusa. Kusa is too afraid and too embarrassed and Chitti knows that about him. The house is empty and Kusa is alone on his little cot in the living space. The sun is shifting to sleep, all of the light only a soft glow on the horizon as it washes the village in lavenders and blues. Kusa thinks it makes Chitti look silent and safe, something ethereal.
Chitti doesn't speak. He looks exhausted and worn from the chaos Kusa brings into his life. Kusa tries to hide behind the curtain of insect mesh that protects his sleep at night, hanging like wilting flowers over his tired bones. Chitti pulls gently on the thin fabric and it softens both their silhouettes, gauzy floating souls desperate to merge their shadows.
Kusa swallows thickly as Chitti sits with him on the cot, moving gently and with caution. The bands of fabric that hold the bedding together stretch and yearn, begging Kusa to fix this, screeching at all of his selfish mistakes. Kusa endears to the way those bands give under the weight of the man he loves. He is suddenly filled with so much affection for Chitti's patience.
They watch each other for a moment, letting insects and birds and the whisper of ferns talk for them. Kusa wants to cry, he is so ashamed and suddenly feels so alone, like the space around him is a thin line of water nobody can press through and he will never be touched again.
Chitti presses through and the veil ripples. He holds out his hand, bunched into a fist as his other hand takes Kusa’s wrist. Chitti flattens his hand as he presses their warm palms together. Kusa’s face pinches as the feeling of warm skin passes into a cool sensation. It is hard metal, settled between the lines and mounts of the planets etched into their palms.
When Chitti pulls his arm away, Kusa finds two thin gold rings in his hand. His face crumples and he watches Chitti’s tired eyes with wet ones.
"Have you broken your bow?" Chitti asks. Kusa’s lips wobble and he nods, exhilarated and surprised by the question, the vision of Ram doing so for Sita bathes them both in the glow of their love.
Chitti wistfully signs his love with his hands and Kusa sobs as he replies with his own. They fit the rings on slowly and kiss through Kusa’s warm tears. Chitti’s lips are soft and his beard scratches in a memory Kusa is so grateful for. The wet sounds of their mouths sound special, matching those lavenders and blues in the air. The insect net brushes their shoulders and skin, a marriage canopy, their makeshift mandapa . There are no knots to tie or sacred flames to circle, but Kusa can smell sindoor on the wind and their hearts sway like hanging pots, plump and cold from a monsoon.
Kusa knows how badly Chitti would want his family here, how much the puja would mean to him, but instead, he is here alone, clutching at Kusa, asking for more kisses, asking for a husband.
“Share my love, share my food, share my strength.” Chitti whispers and puts his palm to Kusa’s heart when he says love.
Kusa opens his mouth to speak but Chitti stops him.
"Wait." Chitti rasps and fishes quietly into his front pocket, pulling gently on the hearing device to attach it to his ear. Kusa's eyes widen and marvel at the display. Chitti winces at birdsong, now a screech, the insects, now razor blades. He turns the receptor down gently and softens.
"So I can hear it." Chitti explains shyly.
“I am the sky, and you are the earth.” Kusa finishes proudly, the old words wobbled and sweet, remembered only from old films and the weddings of friends.
They kiss again and Kusa is flushed with a desire that feels new to him, something heavy and terrifying. He pulls Chitti closer and asks for more, asking it without words. It isn’t long before Kusa is lying on his back, the small bed working tirelessly to support them. Chitti presses himself to Kusa, seeking his mouth, letting his hands push through the new curls on Kusa’s crown. Kusa makes a sound, high and weak, pulling at Chitti’s neck, letting his thighs fall open to make room for Chitti to slot between them.
“You were going to leave me?” Chitti whispers against Kusa’s neck. Kusa whimpers, hiding his shame against Chitti’s chest.
“No, no.” Kusa rasps, afraid Chitti won’t believe him.
Chitti shifts, wanting to face Kusa, pressing his nose to Kusa’s and breathing. He turns and lets his beard scratch at Kusa’s neck, just to hear him sigh. Chitti wants to say more, wants to ask why, wants to make Kusa make a promise, a vow, but he swallows and stays quiet, hoping that Kusa can feel the pounding of his heart through his thin vest. Hoping that is enough. Chitti decides to remove the thin barrier, yanking on their clothing. Kusa shifts his hips to get everything off while Chitti huffs small laughs at how they struggle.
Eventually, Chitti’s earpiece joins the torrent of clothing and both men pass a look to agree they won’t need it. They can hear each other without voices.
Kusa registers the extent of their nudity when he finally feels hot skin and coarse hair against his. He realizes, after Chitti does, that he is trembling, grabbing desperately for more skin and muscle. Chitti hums, pressing himself down harder and letting Kusa hold him tightly, even if he feels sharp bones and joints, he lets Kusa know this body is his now, they belong to each other.
With a sigh, Kusa’s hips shift again. The safety and commitment he finds allow blood to rush and swell between his legs. His thighs somehow part further and Chitti’s hard cock fits next to his husband’s swollen one. Kusa’s voice wobbles as they start to move and Chitti’s breathing turns hoarse. Eventually, their thighs are wet and Kusa can feel the bunched tight movement of the muscles on Chitti’s back, the swell of his thighs as they move, hairy and tanned from the village sun. Kusa needs more than this.
“Please, please chinni.” Kusa pleads and pushes Chitti’s hand between his thighs.
Kusa doesn’t need to say it, his body is asking, and his eyes are begging. Chitti sighs and stretches himself to reach under the small bed, swatting the netting as he moves. The cot creaks again and Kusa pants as he waits. Chitti finds the calendula salve he knows Kusa keeps taped to the wooden leg of his cot and returns to hover over Kusa.
They both eye the shut door at the entrance to Kusa’s home and then the back door leading to the yard. They breathe in an agreement that it is worth the risk. Chitti stops to smile and kiss Kusa one more time. Kusa tries to relax and repositions his back to get as comfortable as he can. Kusa isn’t new to this kind of sex, with other partners or with Chitti. But, this time feels different, it feels like he isn’t running anymore.
Kusa lets himself groan long and loud as Chitti’s fingers fit inside him. Chitti huffs a small hush and smiles, his mustache stretching. Kusa blushes and smiles back. They are used to the fields, where they can be noisy and wild, where Kusa can make sure he is loud enough for Chitti to know how good it feels.
Their skin is damp and Chitti’s fingers start to thrust. Kusa’s face pinches and flushes and he chants Chitti’s name at every stretch. The calendula is warm and slick and that hotpoint under Kusa’s belly swells against his cock. Kusa watches as his cock bobs and begs for attention against Chitti’s swiftly moving arm. He decides to ignore it, enjoying the sensation he is getting and the promise of more with patience.
Kusa stretches his neck, trying to see Chitti, wanting to see what he’s waiting for. Chitti’s cock hides between his thighs, thick and dark, ready whenever Kusa is. Kusa reaches for it and smiles, then grunts again when Chitti’s fingers spread. Kusa doesn’t need to say it, Chitti can feel it. He whines and scrabbles to coat himself with the slick on his hands. His cock throbs as he pulls at himself and Kusa raises his knees to his chest.
Kusa’s hands go to Chitti’s nipples as he moves closer and Chitti sighs, lining himself up against Kusa, swallowing as he pushes slowly. Kusa wants to wail, clutch, and rub his head against the bedding. But, he doesn’t want to look away, he doesn’t want to miss the expression of bliss Chitti always gives him, the way his jaw goes slack and his hips stutter.
Kusa does wail when he feels their hips push together, no distance left between them, Chitti’s cock filling up all the space he has inside. The stretch is always strange at first, but the more it happens, the quicker that feeling rushes into pleasure. Kusa’s belly jumps as it does, his eyes going heavy and his lips pink with arousal. Kusa’s hands run up and down Chitti’s chest as Chitti tries to settle, breathing through his nose, calming his excitement to feel Kusa, to live in this moment if only for a short while.
Kusa can see Chitti’s arms have started to tremble, but they stiffen as Chitti moves to thrust. It’s slow at first, but each push is another throb to Kusa’s cock, another brush of skin against the swollen sack behind it. The thrusts get faster, Chitti’s breathing picks up and he starts to make more noise. Chitti whines along with the wet slap of skin and the slick, light sounds of his cock gliding in and out, the calendula thick and viscous against tender nerves.
Kusa watches the space between them flush a dark color and a bright pink. He marvels at himself, how tender he is there and his hand finally reaches, greedy. Kusa is already wet from himself, leaking heavily from Chitti’s attention. With his cock in his hand, Kusa lifts himself for a kiss, his tongue wet and full as it tangles with Chitti’s, brushing facial hair and teeth. It’s wet and slow and interrupted by happy noises as Chitti’s thrusts stutter and push harder.
Eventually, Chitti is moving too fast and Kusa has to yank his hand away. He tries to pull again but whines and yanks once more. Chitti sees it through the haze of his chase, his skin even wetter with exertion and his muscles screaming for this to finish.
“Kusa, I’m gonna cum.” Chitti warbles and Kusa grabs himself with relief.
Chitti lifts, giving Kusa room, his hands moving quickly to Kusa’s knees, pushing forward to thrust fast and hard. The plump point inside of Kusa vibrates and swells further as he strips himself faster. The feeling is familiar. The hot pool at his hips, the growing cloud of tender nerves trembling. Chitti pushes the back of Kusa’s thighs and groans and the combination is enough.
Kusa stiffens, his hand squeezes and the point behind his cock expands fast. The orgasm rushes up and through his body and grows in intensity with each additional thrust Chitti gives him. He calls out and begs and strips himself. Kusa feels his toes curl and then the surge of sticky cum, long ropes, white and hot on his belly. Kusa lets his spine stiffen as he turns up to watch Chitti.
Chitti makes a startled noise and yanks himself out of Kusa, grabbing at himself to pull and aim. His cum lands on Kusa too, letting their fluids mix as they finish together. Chitti’s orgasm is just as powerful, the wash of pleasure, the light feeling of floating, his head swimming with love. He cums so much, often more than Kusa, and keeps pulling at himself until he stops, his back arched forward and his muscles soft.
Kusa whines again, reaching for Chitti, full of need and longing, not wanting the loneliness to return. Their bodies are slick and hot from the humidity, from the good sex, from their unwillingness to let go.
Chitti pants but his mouth finds Kusa’s, even their mustaches are wet, Chitti’s straight, inky hair flat at his forehead. Chitti smiles at how content he feels, and how beautiful Kusa looks after sex, his dark curls limp but mussed.
“Nenu ninnu premistunnanu.” Chitti croaks in between kisses.
“I love you, I love you.” Kusa whines, gripping Chitti’s head and broken ear, and wounded heart.
“If you leave me like that. I won’t be here waiting for you.” Chitti whispers and Kusa nods frantically.
“I won’t. I won’t.” Kusa promises. “I have nowhere to go. This is my home.”
Jai had left to wander the village. He assumed Chitti would be around upon Kusa’s return.
When Jai enters the home, he averts his eyes from the tiny bundle of bedding under insect mesh and the night's forgiving air. He lets them sleep and is comforted at how much better Kusa looks, wrapped around Chitti.
After passing a snoring Lava, and moving into his room, Jai presses himself slowly to the bed, his hand rubbing at its emptiness.The walk gave Jai time to think and settle his rattled soul. He isn't sure it worked.
He wonders, anxiously, why Cherry is still living with Rangamma.
Chapter 21: Bhumi
Summary:
Everyone deserves to be cared for
Chapter Text
Their performances often land on the same days that local celebrations do. Jai has learned this isn’t by accident. Small villages make grand festivals long and bright. Mama knows this is when towns will pay for stories to be told. Most often they are devotional but sometimes it is someone’s birthday. Sometimes it is a child’s birthday.
Jai hates when it’s a birthday.
“One, two, three!” Mama counts down the small celebration and Lava and Kusa blow out their candles to a smattering of applause, their mother joining demurely, Jai tucked behind her hip.
Their family has only been with Mama for a few years but each year the birthday he shares with his brothers gets worse and worse. Amma had always given them their first bite of cake. Jai first because he is the oldest, then Lava and Kusa. Eventually, Amma told Jai he was old enough to hand-feed his brothers their piece. Jai took the responsibility seriously and bathed in the warmth that overcame him when he gently pushed the small bites into his younger brothers' mouths.
Mama took that from them. Mama made their birthday Lava and Kusa’s birthday and Jai became only an afterthought. At first Lava and Kusa didn’t understand, at first, they protested, but as time went on, they learned it was better to enjoy attention from Mama than to dismiss it.
Jai won’t make the same mistake he did last year. He keeps next to his mother and waits until everyone gets their piece, before being handed a small slice from his mother. She whispers and pulls him, and his little birthday, to the side.
“That’s okay.” She rasps and hands him his bite. “Your birthday will be just for us.”
Jai smiles, his small chest warm. He doesn’t notice the gazes his brothers give them, the hurt in their small faces. He doesn’t see their shoulders gripped tightly in Mama’s large hands.
This is where the memory shifts. A nightmare knits itself in, stitching unhappily to his childhood like it was just as real as any other pain he survived. His mother disappears, the people around him fade to ash, and the festival forms in their place. Jai is surrounded by adults talking and eating, with their families. The lights are loud, and the balloons and costumes follow him with disappointed expressions. Jai feels small, alone, and unsafe.
He pushes himself on trembling legs through throngs of strangers, looking frantically for his mother, wanting to screech for his brothers, afraid Mama has them, his hands on their shoulders and gripped tight.
Eventually, he sees his Amma across the crowd. His mother is hard to look at, the edges of her from blur, and Jai has to squint to prove it is her. He calls to her and she waves her hand slowly. The light reflected off her bangles sting. Jai pushes forward, toward her, and the image continues to shift. She is waiting for him at the edge of a fence. They are in a field of flowers and the sun is bright. The festival around him starts to fade like color disappearing in water. The people pop, their bodies snapping to the shape of small flowers, one by one. They seem so happy to turn into flowers.
But his mother stays, standing behind a curtain of shapelessness. It frightens him, and he rushes to her, faster, calling her name. He sees her change again. As he gets closer and closer, she gets smaller and smaller. The fence stays the same, his mother shrinks against its rotting wood. When he finally steps to her he stops. The field is empty, only miles and miles of indiscernible people-flowers.
His mother lies against the fence post, small enough to pick up. Jai bends to grab her. She is a doll, rough and made of straw. He cradles her in his small hands and cries.
She looks like Mounisha .
"Is it something to be worried about?" Jai mutters against the sounds of summer insects, keeping his eyes on anyone close enough to hear him.
Shatru shrugs and sucks on the beedie, the billowing smoke concealed by the shadows they both hide in.
"He's always had power, but he's been content for so long. I don't know what changed, but he seems-" Shatru pauses, a facade of deep contemplation covering how he pulls at bits of tobacco flake on his tongue. "-hungry."
"Could his men be an influence?" Jai asks. Sharru scoffs and notches his head, knowing how uneducated and cowardly The Society is.
"I'm wo-worried about Lava. He's naive. He thinks it's about money." Jai says, exasperated and annoyed.
"Your mother didn't take any, did she?" Jai asks sharply, his eyes pointed at Shatru’s softened form in the village. Shatru curses, offended.
"Did you think working for you was about loyalty?” Shatru hisses, signaling the cavern of loss and bloody memories between them. Shatru’s anger calms but he glares at Jai. “It was money for my mother."
Jai thinks about their promise. Their sister's gray body and withered hair ribbons. It had always driven him, pushed him past the barriers of morality. Jai had always thought it pushed Shatru too.
"Don't mention her, I have my own family." Shatru’s tone is cold and flat, ever instinctive to Jai, smarter than anyone gives him credit for, and wild in his survival. Jai wonders if it was the coldness that protected him. Only people who truly love Jai, die in his path.
"Kumar is putting my family in danger." Jai growls. "Lava is enamored with his ri-righteous ignorance and Kusa fucking married his little brother."
Shatru rolls his eyes. Jai’s heart aches for a moment. There was no pooja, no knots or fire, but they both wear gold bands and some villagers are becoming suspicious. Jai is thankful Kusa was smart enough to put their rings on chains, hidden around their necks and under shirt collars for enough time to be considered discrete.
Still, Chitti has a family, a father ready to pay a dowry, and a mother expecting a daughter to move in. The unfolding threat lingers over their small home. The home of three strange brothers who seem to have no interest in women.
The Society makes comments. This village President eyes them, his gaze undertoned with suspicion. Jai’s demeanor, the energy he radiates, is enough to threaten any man terrified of losing power. Jai’s secrets are a weak point a man like him would exploit. Kusa’s secrets compound on his own. Jai is afraid of whatever Lava is hiding with Kumar.
"It's a risk either way.” Shatru interrupts. “Do nothing, your brothers get hurt. Do something, you ask for a spotlight."
Jai runs a hand down his face. He’s been ignoring these issues for too long. Infatuated and so in love with Cherry. Distracting himself with healing, fixing, and desire.
"It's the same story here.” Shatru sighs. He flicks the spent cigarello to the floor, crushing it with his thong.
“Your enemies will see him. That little vulnerability you visit every day to hang laundry. If you press, you put him in danger." Shatru delivers the prediction as gently as possible, smart enough not to be volatile when it comes to the little Beetle Hunter.
"I know." Jai clips, the anger and fear flush on his face, but shielded by a taunt jaw and stretched lines.
Shatru deflates again and curses. The early dismissal of loyalty withers.
“I’ll find out.”
It's raining. Jai catches it through his window when he wakes. It’s the rain that reminds him of the date, not his calendar. It is a sudden emotional recollection before the softness of memory floods in. When he checks his calendar, he finds he's right. He remembers what Cherry told him in that memory, it always rains on the 27th, and the 28th too.
The mud is thick from the downpour and Jai's feet sink in, sticking to his thongs and making him slow. The sound fills his ears with its threatening texture, pulsing along the anxiety in his veins. Jai tries to walk faster but the rush of humid water fogs his vision. Rain runs over his curls and into crinkled eyes, blurring a vision already tempered with worry. Jai feels relief when he finally reaches Rangamma’s home, but the feeling is cut short as he spots Cherry in her yard.
Soaked and thin, Cherry scrambles back and forth to yank at sodden clothing on the line. Jai swallows, knowing this mood, recognizing the tired screech of frustration as Cherry tosses soaking fabric into a waterlogged basket. Jai rushes to him with a look of worry blurred through the rivulets of water that race down his face.
"Cherry stop!" Jai tries shouting over the loud sound of rainfall, wet streams tumbling down his face and into his mouth.
" Bujji , they are ruined!" Jai argues, trying to grab at Cherry as the smaller man frantically picks up speed, his movements wild and odd.
"I know!" Cherry barks, still ripping fabric and pacing back and forth.
"I do that- ruined.” Cherry's words start to slur and his small weak cries sound more like exhaustion than sorrow.
Jai’s confusion deepens. Cherry pulls from that suffocating concern and refuses to look at it. When Jai finally grabs Cherry hard enough, the expression he finds startles Jai. Cherry's eyes are glassy and unfocused, and the skin under Jai's hand is hot, unusually hot in the rain.
"I have to get them inside." Cherry whines, not able to steady his gaze on Jai and wobbling in the older man's grip.
Jai moves to hold Cherry up and is genuinely worried now. He presses his palm to Cherry's forehead and growls as he recoils from the heat.
"You're sick!" Jai barks and yanks at Cherry harder, forcing him through the muddy yard and into the dry house. Cherry warbles out protests about the basket, but Jai leaves it to the downpour.
Jai shoves his way inside the small home and grunts as they bring wet footprints inside. Cherry slumps again, getting dizzy and pressing against Jai's body in the scuffle to get into his tiny room. Jai scowls at the space, no bigger than a closet, barely wide enough to fit a cot and Cherry's backpack. Jai tries to find a towel or blanket and Cherry flops to the bed with another sob.
"I have to get the laundry!" Cherry wails, big tears falling down his face now, mixing with the rainwater that makes his hair flat and thin.
"I'll get it!" Jai says, his voice frustrated and short, wrapping a blanket around Cherry tightly, trying to dry the shivering man's hair.
Jai tries to focus on getting Cherry warm and dry. He doesn’t notice the lingering gaze, the way Cherry’s eyes study the older man sadly, a wilting narrative spinning in circles inside his heart. Then the eyes well, and squeeze softly.
"Where were the guards?" Cherry whispers, his sobs now quiet sniffs and his expression hazy and lost.
Jai looks up confused, trying to rub at the damp on them both. He pants out short breaths, the cold and wild emotions making him breathless.
"Lanka was full of guards." Cherry continues. "Why weren't they there? Nobody came."
Jai freezes as the statements register. He remembers the noise Cherry made that night, the shattering of porcelain and glass, the screams that echoed and pierced. Jai struggles to reply but switches pace as Cherry sways again, still tired and wet.
"Why are you out in the r-r-rain while sick?" Jai presses, trying to hide from sad questions.
"R-R-Rain." Cherry rasps. Not to mock Jai, but out of disorientation, his eyes still cloudy, spilling slow, warm tears, scanning between Jai and the ceiling.
Jai is getting scared, he pats Cherry's cheek and calls to him. His voice is tender and that forces Cherry's eyes to snap to his.
"You told them to go home. You knew." Cherry starts to sob again, the sounds an ache in both their hearts.
Jai's face twists and he starts to feel frustrated.
" Prema , I told you I-" Jai starts but Cherry slaps Jai's hand as it reaches for the younger man’s shoulder.
"Why did you fuck me?" Cherry asks sharply, the pain coming from somewhere deep, a mixture of impulse and sensitivity in Cherry's fevered mind. Jai's mouth gapes and Cherry digs deeper in.
"You knew what you were going to do. You had me anyway." Cherry says it in pain, not an angry accusation but an aching truth. It hurts to say and Cherry sobs again, his hands pushing weakly at Jai.
"You sa-said you f-f-forgive me." Jai's voice is low and weak, his face a mixture of hurt and guilt.
Cherry's face crumples again and he stops. His body lingers, head down, floating between so many different emotions. A sob snaps him into a decision and he grabs for Jai, trying to pull him closer, deciding on affection and warmth.
Jai schools his mood and tries to think, freezing in his reciprocation, letting Cherry have the hug. As Cherry trembles against him, Jai chooses to understand and relaxes, he folds his hand lovingly over Cherry's head and pulls back to look deep into suffering eyes.
"I love you." Jai rasps.
The response is immediate, Cherry’s form crumbles, and his eyes go soft. Jai will have to remind Cherry, every day, in different ways with different words. Cherry needs that from him, at least for now. Reassurance, unwavering affection, and validation. Jai can do that. Jai wants to do that. He kisses Cherry's temple and tries to offer more.
"I made so many mistakes-“ Jai whispers at Cherry's cheek. -“but I won’t hurt you. I won’t leave."
"Oh." Cherry warbles, whimpering as he accepts the promise once more and presses his cheek closer.
Jai wants to tell Cherry more but a door snaps open and the wind howls in behind them. Rangamma barrels through, her saree soaked wet and her hair a sodden mess. She wipes at her face as she struggles to get inside and shut the door.
"I have Chepala Pulusu from Nageasa Rao Abbaya !" Rangamma shouts as she pulls off her thongs and grabs a towel.
"If it's too heavy my Sambar should-" Rangamma freezes when she sees Jai squatting at the entrance to Cherry's room.
Jai looks angry, his eyes hard and his jaw clenched. Rangamma glances at a very wet Cherry on his bed, looking exhausted and withered, then back to Jai. Jai stands slowly, his fist clenched rigid at his side.
"Did you go-" Rangamma starts to ask Cherry but Jai's low voice interrupts her.
"Why is he working in the rain while sick?!" Jai asks the question like an accusation, his face dark and brows turned down. Unfortunately for Jai, Rangamma is not easily frightened by angry men.
"I told him to-" Rangamma argues, her voice full of annoyance. Jai interrupts her again, the tone becoming frantic.
"Is this the care I'm paying for?! So you can work him ragged on washing your filthy clothes?!" Jai motions to Cherry's weak state, who only looks up slowly, lost and confused. Rangamma's eyes widen in rage but Jai stands to his full height.
"Pay?" Cherry croaks behind him. Jai ignores it and continues his attack.
"Are you so lazy you let him do every little thing for you? Even si-sick?" Jai yells and Rangamma joins in, yelling over him when she can.
"I don't need his help! He has nothing to do all day and is just as stubborn as you!" Rangamma's hands move wildly as they step closer to each other, the argument becoming a proper row.
"You take my money and treat him like a dog? Is he even eating?" Jai counters, his loud voice shaking off the walls.
Cherry tugs at Jai's lungi gently and calls out to him, watching the fight anxiously.
"Jai, Jai." Cherry calls again but they are both too angry to hear him.
"Why is he here eh? Why isn't he with you if you care so much?! Whose fault is that?!" Rangamma snaps and Jai recoils.
"Jai!" Cherry calls out in a low whine and Jai finally turns, ignoring the rest of Rangamma's tirade.
It's too late. Cherry retches once and vomits on Jai's feet.
Cherry feels weightless, familiar hands on his skin, then cool metal. He can hear a strange voice murmuring but then recognizes Jai's strong voice. Cherry feels a softness under him and then the relief of sleep.
When Cherry wakes, the heat in the room feels like steam from a sauna. His skin itches and his head throbs as he tries to open his eyes. It still feels soft under his body but he’s now sticky and sore. Cherry tries to gather his bearings, squinting at the low light in the room, then tries to move without retching.
Eventually, Cherry's vision steadies and he realizes Jai is half under him, combing his sweaty hair and asking how he feels.
"Come on, come." Jai coos and starts moving Cherry from the bed.
They are in Jai's room, Cherry realizes. He wonders how they even got here, if he can remember the walk. Then the fight with Rangamma comes back to him and he winces. Jai is still tugging and pushing gently, getting Cherry to his feet and toward the bathroom, holding onto Cherry’s torso to keep him standing.
Cherry hears himself make a sad sound against the sharp squeal of the faucet, and the spray of cool water in the tub. Cherry can feel sticky fabric being peeled from his body as Jai's grunts play softly behind him.
Eventually, they are both in the shower and Cherry sighs at the cool spray, his fevered skin thanking Jai. Cherry trembles like a newborn foul, legs wobbling under the water. Jai undresses quickly before stepping in himself and wraps his arms around Cherry to hold him up.
"I called a doctor, he ch-checked you while you were sleeping." Jai offers as he rubs at Cherry's skin, grabbing soap to start a lather.
"He says it's only a bug, maybe your stomach. I have medicine for you later." Jai finishes and Cherry shivers again, the flushes of sensation making even his hair tremble.
"It usually only lasts a day." Cherry grumbles and presses his cheek flat to Jai's round shoulder, enjoying the touch.
Jai hides the way his face pinches and continues to wash Cherry's back. Jai wants to ask Cherry to elaborate but Cherry's exhausted voice interrupts him.
"I'm sorry. I do forgive you." Cherry sniffles and pushes a small kiss to Jai's neck.
Jai only hums, kissing Cherry's wet skin and smiling.
"You can be angry." Jai tries to explain that he understands, that forgiveness isn't simple, and that he isn't afraid of how complicated things are, but his teeth clench and more kisses are all he can manage.
Cherry sighs and sinks into the attention, letting that understanding pass through him, not asking for more or needing Jai to explain that night.
They stand there together, both warm and cool under the water. It soothes the heat of Cherry’s fever but provides the intimacy they both know they need from each other. Each touch, each kiss, a knit in the patch that heals together their torn hearts.
“Every year it gets harder. Does it feel this way for you?” Cherry whispers against Jai’s shoulder.
Jai sees his mother’s weak form in his mind, her rattled breathing, and terrified eyes. He knows how much it hurts to think about but he also knows there is a difference. Jai’s mother died the way most people do, sick in bed, with her family around her. Cherry watched violence and horror take his parents.
“I don’t know the date.” Jai rasps. “Only that it was raining.”
They both understand the insinuation. The points of their lives that eerily match. How well fitted they are and still, the small differences that allow no room to hide from.
Cherry’s body tenses, knowing this is something they can’t always connect on, knowing this will always be a lonely place for him if he allows it.
"It isn't just because they died.” Cherry says through soft sobs. “I have nobody, no family. I can’t even find my uncle."
"You have me.” Jai’s voice is loud and firm. It points to Cherry’s ear in confidence. “You are my family.”
Cherry thinks about Jai and his brothers, and how peculiar they are. He thinks about himself, and how he fits into that strangeness.
"I was wrong wasn't I?" Cherry whispers. "I'm... gay."
Jai tries to answer carefully, his palms still stroking circles into Cherry's back, the water a beat on his own back but sliding over his shoulders to caress them both.
"Does that upset you?" Jai asks softly, before kissing Cherry's wet hair gently.
"What would they say if they knew?" Cherry asks quietly, almost to himself. It’s one question in a pile of many similar ones.
Am I the person they wanted me to be? Did I grow correctly, was their sacrifice worth anything? Did I waste it?
"Would they have liked you? Would they have been ashamed of me?" Cherry’s voice starts to strain and Jai grunts to stop the spiral. Cherry breathes in and lets it rattle out. He pulls his arms from Jai’s back and tucks them between their chests, folded and skinny, so Jai can hold them together tighter, so he can protect Cherry better.
"Would you have wanted your mother to know?" Cherry turns his head up when he asks, his eyes round and earnest.
"Sometimes I think she did." Jai answers truthfully.
"Most parents don't tell their children old stories of men falling in love, but my mother did. Most parents don't even kno-o-ow them." Jai scoffs and his mouth mimics a smirk. Cherry’s smile is small and he presses his head back down, against Jai’s shoulder.
"She would tell us about Mitra and Varuna, and put a ha-hand to my head. Like the story was for me." Jai says. Cherry hums in understanding.
"She loved me. She is dead now, and I get to decide how fa-far that love reaches." Jai finishes. He does believe that, and he wants Cherry to believe it too.
"My father was brave. My mother was loyal." It's all Cherry can think to say.
Those were virtues Cherry had always been proud of, but he couldn't be sure if they would have guaranteed acceptance or understanding. When he is honest with himself, Cherry can admit it makes him angry. If his father had been more cowardly, or his mother had disagreed, perhaps they would still be here.
"They would have hated you." Cherry laughs and Jai can feel a smile stretch against his skin. Jai swats at Cherry’s shoulder and laughs too.
Cherry pulls away after a beat, needing space to think clearer, to rinse off any leftover soap. Jai sighs and silently agrees, grabbing for rags.
"What did you find out about them? How did you get the photo?" Cherry says as he scrubs at his legs, trying not to wobble and keep his roiling stomach calm.
“Tapan.” Jai says gently and they both warm at his mention.
Jai’s body shudders a bit at his brother’s memory but the sting is softer now and it is easier to talk to Cherry about him, someone who knew him too. Jai schools his face when he considers the small folder he was given but doesn’t hesitate to give Cherry the truth.
"Adi Andhra." Jai clips, the Caste rolling off his tongue with respect and sincerity.
Cherry’s face pinches and he halts in his washing to drop his shoulders. He knew his family was lower caste but-
“Dalit?!” Cherry exclaims.
"Don’t.” Jai reprimands and lets his eyes go hard. “A brave and resilient bloodline to have endured for so long. Deep skin tones rooted in the auth-thority of each generation that survives. Raja and Raja and Raja until you. Your blood runs through the earth."
It feels dramatic, but it pours out of Jai unbridled. As most truths do.
Cherry huffs, the radical modern thinking feels so unfamiliar and hypocritical in the face of Jai’s devotion. Cherry recoils from it, it feels infantilizing and naive. Accepting his sexuality was one thing but the burst of shame at hearing his Caste feels impossible to erase. He knows he’s different, he knows just being himself is dangerous, but hearing this feels like a knife twisting into an already open wound. Jai tries to soften his stance, a hand coming to Cherry’s cheek in comfort.
“My father was Brahmin, my mother was Scheduled.” Jai struggles to explain, it has never been important to him. He’s gay and untouchable in so many different ways, so it was never something to struggle with. He had thought that Cherry felt the same.
“Where is your father now?!” Cherry hisses and yanks on the shower curtain to step out angrily. Jai huffs, frustrated at how stubborn Cherry can be.
“Because it mattered to him, to his family.” Jai growls “You kn-kn-know I don’t think that way. I had no Upanayanam and I don’t wear th-threads. They would have refused it. I have my eye, my heart, and my ladder-”
Jai pauses in his conviction and swallows before finishing. “-and you. That’s all I need.”
Cherry stops, realizing they're both dripping wet and naked, arguing needlessly that someone would dare to love Cherry unconditionally.
"Romantic, romantic." Cherry whimpers, suddenly so tired again, his nausea rushing back. Jai sighs and shuts off the water, stepping out to help.
"Your father was Scheduled from another village.” Jai says as he pulls on a towel and wraps it around Cherry’s shoulders.
Your mother was Sudra set to marry a farmer. They chose each other instead and eloped. A Forbidden Love." Jai speaks gently as he ruffles Cherry’s wet hair to flatten it back down with his palms, smiling at the way Cherry’s ears stick out.
"Like us." Cherry whispers. Jai’s body softens at the familiar sentiment.
He had nowhere to go and he ended up here. Like all of us. He loves you like we do.
Jai holds Cherry closer, kissing his cheek, neck, and shoulder. Cherry tries not to smile but he fails, growing bashful at the attention and their nudity.
When Jai eventually moves away, he leaves Cherry the towel to finish drying and re-enters the bedroom. Cherry takes a moment to breathe, to let everything settle and to calm his heart, keeping the towel around him like a cloak, like armor.
When Cherry does step into the room he finds Jai busy changing the bedsheets. Cherry’s heart fills with immeasurable affection at the sight. Jai works meticulously around the bed mat, tucking and folding, smoothing wrinkles with his hands, an expression of deep concentration on his face. Cherry loves Jai so suddenly, so deeply, it almost overwhelms him. This dark, quiet, naked man, covered in ugly scars, dripping shower water onto crisp bedding, fussing with it so seriously.
A melancholy rushes through Cherry like a cold wave, brought on by the sudden thought that he can never circle a fire with Jai or tie any knots. They will always be two men who live in a house together, who have to pull their hands from each other in public. The mournful wave crests and Cherry’s eyes go glassy, the sad lines underneath deepening.
Jai sees the expression and moves to Cherry’s side, leading him with a firm hand to lie down and tuck in. Jai crawls in with him and pulls Cherry into an embrace, a shield of fabric and skin to protect them from those awful truths. Cherry presses his cheek to Jai’s chest and hides, doing his best not to cry.
"Maybe it was a blessing." Cherry whispers. “No family left to be disappointed. Nobody to tear us apart.”
Jai turns to shift and face Cherry, putting a hand in Cherry’s hair to brush away damp strands and tears.
“Finding you was my blessing.” Jai says firmly. “In any lifetime.”
Cherry pulls himself up to rest on an elbow, sniffing away tears and kisses Jai firmly, their mouths molding together in another promise, their tongues finding the only truth that matters to them. Their lips shift and kiss one last time before Cherry pulls away with a swallow.
“Mine too.” Cherry confesses. They hold each other for a little longer, the nausea subsiding and Cherry’s fever fading.
"Was that all?” Cherry asks. “About my parents? Could you find more?"
"I can look." Jai says tentatively. He does want to try but he doesn’t want to give Cherry false hope. The topic drops as Cherry winces in Jai’s arms and his muscles clench. Jai holds him a little tighter out of concern but Cherry only huffs and relaxes.
“I feel better.” Cherry says to calm Jai’s nerves.
"You said it usually only lasts a day. Ha-Have you been sick like this before?" Jai asks.
"When I was young, a few times, but not as much at the home. ” Cherry explains “Never in Lanka."
"When was the last time?” Jai asks, curious.
"At Eid! With Rishi and Ashmina! I remember because it was the next morning I was so sick." Cherry complains and breathes out frustration at the memory.
"Did you eat anything with Ashmina? After fast?" Jai’s voice sounds suspicious and Cherry turns his head up at the shift in tone.
"Sheer Khurma, I ate three bowls. But, it can't be food, they ate it too and were fine. Rangamma made us paneer last night and only I am sick." Cherry says confidently, convinced these sick bouts are unavoidable. Jai sighs and rubs his palm over Cherry’s hair again, his suspicions confirmed.
" Gundello , those are both milk." Jai explains gently.
"No.” Cherry whispers, his eyes darting in confusion, the realization clicking into place. “I can't eat milk?!"
Jai tries not to laugh at the melancholic reaction but Cherry only buries his face back into Jai’s chest and groans.
“I never cooked with dairy, Tapan had the same allergy.” Jai explains, endeared to the sad little fit unfolding in front of him.
“ The home probably didn’t want to spend the money on it.” Jai says with annoyance.
Cherry groans again, not wanting to believe something so terrible. The grumbling and laughter quiet before Cherry’s eyes squint and he studies Jai’s expression.
“You’ve been paying Rangamma?” Cherry asks.
Jai’s face goes stiff and he tries to hide a flush of embarrassment. He doesn’t reply, only grunts again and knits his eyebrows.
“Chi!” Cherry squeaks. Jai is grateful that he looks more amused than angry.
Cherry huffs and flops back to the bed.
“Just for food and anything you need.” Jai says under his breath. Cherry’s eyes squint again and his body language demands more.
“I didn’t want you to leave.” Jai confesses. His face to any other person would look angry or annoyed but Cherry knows the man in front of him much better than most people. It’s guilt.
“I wasn’t going to do that.” Cherry grumbles and returns to their embrace.
Cherry can feel the sweetness in Jai swell, how happy he is with such simple signals of affection. It bleeds into Cherry and he huffs a laugh.
They both aren’t certain how long they lie together, it feels like it’s own lifetime, like naps often do. Their attention eventually shifts at the sound of a warbling Kusa downstairs, calling out and laughing as Lava screeches about dishes.
"They aren't eating." Kusa whispers.
He leans close to Jai on the back patio as his older brother rinses out buckets and dirty thongs with well water. They are both squatted low and Kusa tries to keep the conversation quiet. Kusa bends and shifts his body with a hop or two to follow Jai’s movements. Jai grunts in response, his favorite way to communicate with Kusa, who always seems to understand him.
“Drithi and her baby, three houses down with the blue flowers.” Kusa clicks his tongue in disapproval.
Cherry, sitting a foot or two away, hums in recognition of the family Kusa describes.
“I saw her in the market yesterday, she looked so tired, bargaining food down to buy so little.” Cherry quips and aims at an insect with a pink plastic swatter.
"Chitti says their land was taken, there's nothing to farm, nothing to sell, no food to buy." Kusa narrates the story wistfully, like one of the radio dramas he listens to with Chitti. Jai grunts again, but his tone is skeptical.
"Rangamma goes by." Jai counters, knowing the stories now of which families struggle the most. Knowing the money he gives to Cherry’s landlord probably goes to hungry little mouths.
"She does!” Kusa barks. “Father wastes any money she gives on the canteen! Drithi isn't eating so there's no milk for the little girl."
Jai stops his washing and eyes his younger brother who only smiles sweetly and continues to bounce on his heels. Jai stretches his back in a twist, his squat making him ache. He groans at the pops his bones make.
"Take a bag of rice. Shatru can s-speak to this Father." Jai says firmly and grabs another rag to dunk into cloudy water.
Jai hears Cherry click his tongue but doesn’t look up from his washing. Kusa smacks a palm to Jai’s back, opening his mouth to praise the virtuous act, when Lava stumbles outside in a rush.
“Are you washing the dabba?!” Lava asks, his face pale and panicked.
Jai turns his head slowly, his face pinched.
“No, It’s still full.” Jai retorts and Lava huffs in exasperation.
“I can’t find it, I need it for tonight!” Lava whines but Jai watches as a large hand comes into view to warm on Lava’s shoulder. Kumar appears behind Jai’s younger brother like a golden statue of good fortune and Lava immediately settles, his cheeks going warm.
“I can bring my mother’s if we do not find it.” Kumar offers sweetly and Lava smiles in relief. Jai pinches his nose as they both shuffle happily back into the house.
Kusa pops up from his squat to follow them but stops to fish something out of his pocket and dangle it in front of Cherry as an offering. Kusa palms the small net of fruit and a warm smile stretches across Cherry’s face.
"Cherries for Thammudu." Kusa whispers and plops the bundle of fruit in Cherry’s open palms. They are deep red and ripe. Cherry can feel Jai smirk next to them, happy to see Kusa be so kind and sweet to the person he loves so much.
Kusa winks and disappears into the house. Cherry plops down next to Jai and breaks the net open with his teeth. Jai pauses in his washing to allow an offered cherry to be thumbed into his mouth.
“Pit” Cherry quips, and Jai’s teeth take care to avoid biting through. The offering is sweet compared to the tart flavor, but Cherry’s apprehension weighs down the moment.
“New business.” Cherry accuses gently through a mouthful of fruit.
Jai sighs, an understanding passing swiftly between them. His shoulders roll, they stretch his scars and he rubs at the thickening beard on his jaw.
“I can’t just-” Jai begins before being interrupted by Lava’s frantic voice coming from the kitchen.
“No Kush, that’s for dinner!” Lava whines. Jai and Cherry make their way inside to find Kusa already bolting out the door with the heavy sack of Basmati.
“Thank you! Thank you bye!” Kusa calls back in his jog and Lava huffs, hands on his hips. He begins to turn to Kumar, ready to ask for new favors when Jai grunts and reaches into a fold in his lungi.
“Get a bag from the m-market.” Jai says to Cherry, handing over a couple of folded rupees and coins. Cherry only scoffs and doesn’t take the offering.
“I have my own money.” Cherry clicks his tongue and smiles with the corner of his mouth. Jai huffs, but it sounds happy. Lava’s expression doesn’t mirror theirs.
Lava waits for Cherry to leave, then turns back to stir his pot on the stove next to Kumar who continues to grind masala. Jai takes the awkward moment as an excuse to leave when Lava stops him.
“Will he be staying for long this time?” Lava asks it like it’s a question that exasperates him. It isn’t enough to be taken seriously, not enough to sound rude, but Jai hears it.
“Why?” Jai rasps, aware of Kumar’s quiet form, grinding cloves and cinnamon with peaking ears and darting eyes.
“I don’t-” Lava starts then huffs. “-I know you love him.”
Lava says the word quietly, a wash of embarrassment at the discussion of romantic love, let alone gay romantic love.
“-but he comes from your old life. The life that unraveled .” Lava pauses to face Jai, his eyes pleading and his hands wiping themselves on a washcloth.
“I don’t want anything to unravel this one.” Lava finishes. His voice tries to sound sympathetic, easy, and loving, but Jai’s body bristles, his face scrunching in annoyance. Kumar’s eyes stop darting and focus solely on his spices.
Jai doesn’t want to talk about Cherry like this, with someone who doesn’t know their story. Especially with Lava, especially with Chitti’s brother here.
“It’s not- It’s di-di-different.” Jai’s face rushes with heat at his stammer, hating that Kumar can hear it, hating that he is alone right now. He misses Cherry so suddenly. He feels cornered, pinned, and trapped. Lava only sighs, seemingly not willing to push further but not hiding his disappointment and judgment.
A different expression crosses Lava’s features and he checks his wristwatch quickly. Lava’s persistence is making Jai even more anxious.
“Jai, did you draw muggulu in Odisha?” Lava asks and turns to look for the rice flour. Jai eyes the front porch, normally bare without a woman in the house.
“I don’t- Why?” Jai’s palms start to sweat as his eyes scan the clean home, the abundant dinner being prepared, the extra seating laid out on the floor.
“It’s a family dinner!” Lava chirps. “Even Kusa agreed to be home tonight and I-”
Lava pauses to smile fondly at Kumar.
“I invited Kumar and Chitti.” Lava nods to himself and smiles that insufferable smile again.
“Your- Charan can come too if you like.” Lava smiles but it feels reluctant. Jai’s anxiety spikes again.
Jai steps further into the dining area and counts the cushions. It’s still too many, one too many.
“Lava.” Jai growls. Lava’s face flushes and he continues to look nervous.
“It’s time for us to come together, to heal these old wounds.” Lava offers lightly and perks at the loud slam of a car door outside.
Jai’s head snaps toward the sound, so swiftly that he can feel a pop against the slap of a stranger's footsteps. His mind races through a thousand different mistakes Lava could have made to upset him.
“It will be good Jai, forgiveness is so essential if we want to put this all behind us.” Lava straightens his shirt, fluffs his trousers, and watches the open doorway happily.
Jai flinches at the familiar form that walks up their front path. His body starts to scream, pain, fear, and anxiety rushing through his veins like poison. A terror grips Jai’s throat so tightly he thinks he might stop breathing.
Suddenly, immediately, he worries about Cherry.
Where is Cherry? Is he safe? Why isn’t he here? He is thin and sweet and cries when he’s hurt. He shouldn’t be outside, he should be here with me. I need to protect him, I need to keep him safe.
Lava is babbling as he moves to the front door. Jai can’t hear any of it. He’s frozen in place, his heart racing, his eyes darting around the room, looking for a weapon. A knife or a rock, anything to protect Cherry with, to protect himself.
The noise escalates, Lava is calling happily, and Kumar looks happy too. Everyone is so fucking happy. Footsteps clack on the concrete porch, fabric rustles at the movement of bodies, and hugs and hellos. Jai’s stomach twists as he watches Lava bend halfway to point to familiar feet.
The moment Mama steps inside the house, his voice materializes in the middle of Jai’s gut like a poisoned spear. Jai’s entire body flashes a thousand memories. It feels like electricity snapping his spine, then searing into vapor to take him away. Up and disconnected. This floating identity, his mind and heart, his vision and form, turns gently and steps to the left of his body.
Jai was strong in Lanka, he had the manpower, weapons, and the terror of control. He wasn’t afraid, he was vengeful and angry. Here, in this small village, in vests and lungi’s and thongs and grown-out curls, he is exposed, he is malleable with thin skin easy to pierce. This softness can’t protect him.
I need to find Cherry, Cherry isn’t safe. Cherry isn’t safe.
“There you are! Here are my boys!” Mama says to Jai’s frozen, trembling form. “Good to finally put this all behind us!”
Mama’s demeanor is hard and ridiculous. The familiar wave of whimsy airs off his body as a disarmament. Not someone who would hurt you, not someone who would hurt children. Only people who know him can see the sharper edges, the peaks that tear through the velvet curtain to reveal who he really is. That fabric is thinner in this smaller home, sheer compared to Lanka. There is no kingdom or king to be afraid of here.
Jai doesn’t want to speak but his mouth moves.
“Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-” Jai’s throat tightens like steel and his eyes well, still looking for Cherry, still afraid and confused.
“Ch-Ch-Ch!” Mama laughs ruefully, his voice fluttering up and down in exaggeration. He bounces and winks at Lava. “Still the same eh?! Not enough money or power or guns to fix that. ”
Mama notches his head with a click of his tongue and smiles warmly, his head turning to scan the home, not making direct eye contact with Jai when he speaks. Jai’s skin starts to itch, his back hunched, feeling shorter, feeling smaller.
“It was my fault, this-” Mama rotates his finger in a circle over his mouth, eyeing Kumar to reference Jai’s stammer. He smiles warmly, letting Kumar see how concerned he is, ready to reel in another ally.
Isn’t Jai strange? Aren’t I quite friendly? We are so similar. Why is he so different?
“I was too soft about it.” Mama sighs, fabricated sympathy oozing through his skin like oil and petrol. “I needed to be stern, you needed guidance, but my heart just couldn’t stand ever being cruel to you boys.”
Mama laughs again and Lava replies with an uncomfortable smile. Kumar reaches out to say hello and Mama only nods, a sudden air of coldness around him at the thought of being touched.
“Where is this friend of yours?” Mama asks Jai sharply, stepping closer, his body seeming to swell in size as he eyes Jai. “Some ridiculous name right Lav?”
Mama’s body buzzes with heat only Jai can feel, close and thick like a radiator. Mama turns again, his smile is cruel for a flash but warms as the mask slips back over. Lava tries to answer but Mama interrupts him.
“What kind of friend is he? “ Mama asks without any further explanation, his brows pinched, his expression suspicious and cold. He doesn't wait for Jai to answer.
“This house is fine, needs work but fine.” Mama’s approval is wilting but his neck turns and stretches to examine the old village home.
The back and forth leaves everyone unsettled but Jai’s self steps back and forth as his body stays rigid. To the left, to the right, up, curled into a better shape to hide, claws and horns aching to break through thin, opaque skin.
“What’s his name?” Mama cracks and Jai vibrates as Mama’s eyes snap to him.
“Ch-Ch-Ch” Jai tries again. Mama laughs and mimics the stammer, but doesn’t finish the word.
An image flashes in Jai’s mind. A false memory. Cherry as a child, small and skinny, underfed, unloved. Mama tugging his thin arm, Mama slapping his round, not so round, cheeks. Cruelty fertilizing sobs and a hollow heart. Small Cherry, Young Cherry calls for Jai. Mama becomes Shatru, locking Cherry in the pantry. Sekhar slapping Cherry and forcing a kiss. Jai’s own hand.
The hand you hit Cherry with.
It happens in a violent flash, steel dinner pans and cups and cushions clatter and fly as Jai rushes his uncle. Jai can hear Lava yell out, there's a wild rustling of bodies and Mama garbles out cries in the scuffle.
His self is vapor, the buzzing frames of film that can’t settle, can’t give itself a still image. The smaller hands he had when he was young leave prints and scorch marks as he moves. On his arms, on Mama’s body, on the dinner plates and cushions, on Lava’s heart.
Jai doesn’t register his adult bigger hands wrapped around Mama’s throat until Mama’s face starts to flush violet, his back pressed to the wall. Lava is pulling and screaming. Jai also realizes he is yelling too, the noises are frightening and wild. Jai can hear Lava begging, but Jai’s arms are two steel bars, locked to his uncle’s throat.
His bones crack and snap like the charred wood of a dead tree, charcoal, and coal, a cold flame living in his gut, where everything else dead lives. A mountain could grow around him, empty and brittle rock, no moisture for fungus or vines to grow here. Only the cavern grows, wider and wider.
Then, out of nothing, water and wind to erode his violence to sand. Jai feels softer hands on his arms and the infliction of Kusa’s accent, so different from Lava’s. Jai’s peripheral sees Chitti too, sees Chitti startle and run from their home.
“Don’t Annaya please.” Kusa begs gently. Tugging softly and affectionately. Squeezing hard mountain rock flesh. “You have to stay. They will take you away from us. Please, Jai.”
Jai’s eyes blink out gravel and crystals and then shift to Kusa. High peak rock and flat mountain eyelids. The face he finds on Kusa is so afraid, so earnest and open. Jai believes it, he believes his brother. The warm sun on his sharp edges.
“He won’t understand-” Kusa swallows, his hands gripping Jai’s forearms tightly, Mama still gurgling and gasping as Kusa’s eyes find Lava.
“-but he will feel guilty because he loves us.” Kusa finishes, tugging on Jai’s arms again, begging his brother to let go.
Jai turns his head. Lava’s face is pained, tears streaming down his cheeks, pulled away from Jai to clutch Kumar’s arm. Jai won’t look at Chitti’s brother but he looks at Kusa again and the rocks shuffle off, crumbling into salt. He is even softer underneath, the tenderness of a lost exoskeleton. It feels awful.
Mama drops to the floor with a pathetic thud, gasping and scrambling to escape.
“Hello?” Cherry calls out at the entrance to Chitti’s home.
Cherry had hoped to grab Chitti to join him at the market but the house is quiet and still, a sign his combustive new friend is elsewhere. Cherry sighs and decides to leave when he hears a clatter coming from the kitchen and a frazzled head of dark hair pop up from behind a short divider, clutching a tall basket.
“Oh!” Kanthamma squeaks at Cherry’s appearance. “Chitti isn’t here Babu do you-”
Chitti’s mother pauses and brushes the stray strands of hair from her eyes, studying Cherry closely, wistfully, as though the sunlight carried him in and she needs a moment to absorb his warmth.
“Kusa did-” Kanthamma stops herself and laughs, embarrassed at her misunderstanding. Cherry walks in further and tries to apologize, but Chitti’s mother looks a little startled.
“You look so-” Kanthamma starts, then drops her basket clumsily onto the nearby counter. She steps around the divider gingerly, straightening her saree and shaking her bangles to loosen them from her arms. Cherry likes the sound they make, a mother’s twinkle. She breathes and laughs as she gets closer, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“You look like my Chitti when he was younger. Yes, that’s it.” Kanthamma smiles and turns back to her kitchen. “You are Chitti’s friend, staying with Rangamma, no?”
Cherry sways his head yes and smiles, holding his hands in front of him to be polite. Kanthamma fishes into her basket and motions for Cherry to join her.
“Come help me.” Kanthamma smiles and pulls out dozens of garlic bulbs and ginger roots onto the cutting counter. Cherry smiles and walks over happily, in no rush to buy rice.
“Rangamma says you are a great help-” Kanthamma drops the compliment like a gift. “-to her and the village.”
Cherry blushes. He can admit he loves most of the people here, the slower way, the warmth of the community.
“I thought you were Kusa in the doorway!” Kanthamma laughs and motions for Cherry to join her in cracking bulbs into her basket. Cloves tumble apart as they burst with a farewell aroma to each other. Cherry’s fingers feel the thin flakes of husk lifting and fluttering like flower petals.
“I should have known otherwise, you are much too quiet.” Kanthamma jokes and Cherry laughs.
“I am glad Kusa came to us.” Kanthamma’s voice quiets with affection. “He makes my husband laugh and helps me like this.”
Cherry only nods and continues his work, the conversation going thin on his end, unsaid sentiments wondering where they fit. Kanthamma measures that energy around them and tries to focus on roots and bulbs and the sticky ends of her fingers.
“He- Chitti likes him very much.” Kanthamma offers lightly, her eyes still on her own hands.
“He does.” Cherry agrees and cracks another bulb with his palms.
“We worry. Well, we used to worry so much more. His ear-” Kanthamma stops herself from cupping her ear, a flood of sweet memories ache in her chest. Chitti’s small hand at his lobe, the way he would tilt even as a child.
“Kusa comes and now he wears his aid. We don’t have to yell!” Kanthamma finishes with humor, trying to lift that heavy lid over the pot of unsaid things, watching it stubbornly pull back into place with the scratching sound of clay and ceramic.
“Some men. Some would think they are too close.” Kanthamma swallows, her face flushing in embarrassment but the expression remaining grounded, needing to know, needing to ask. “I hope-”
Warmth comes from inside of Cherry and pulls upwards, like light through his chest, its heat trying to mirror dried chilis hanging at the window, red coarse and curled from sunlight. It pulls up and out of his mouth. His gift to a worried mother.
“Kusa is strong and a good man.” Cherry assures her softly. “His heart is big. Chitti is very happy.”
Kantamma turns softly, her eyes welled with tears but her mouth stretched into a grateful smile. She can feel her younger son’s small hands tugging on her saree, how he would press the wrong and weird ear to her thigh, letting it muffle further to hear her voice out of the ear that didn’t abandon him.
“Good.” She nods. “Good.”
Cherry wants to say more, he wants to be poignant and vague and boil out the tension and fear in the unsaid things pot.
“Cherry!” Chitti rushes into the home, breathing heavily, his expression tight and panicked.
“It’s Jai.”
Cherry sprints with Chitti, their thongs slap on the dirt paved road to the rapid beat of their hearts. Cherry watches as Kusa appears from a cloud of dust outside of the Nidumolu home. He moves wildly, shouting at a closed car door parked in front. The car screeches off and Kusa chases it, throwing pebbles at dusty glass and squealing tires.
Cherry separates from Chitti, who goes after the angry triplet and Cherry goes inside to find his. The main room is in disarray, knocked-over furniture, strew steel plates, and smears of unserved food painting the floor. Cherry steps gingerly, breathing heavily. He sees Jai’s brother with Chitti’s brother and his heart clenches at the sorrow on display.
“Slow down.” Kumar coos, rubbing at Lava’s back, squatted low, trying to help gather the broken shards of ceramic and porcelain off the ground. Lava sniffs away small sobs, his cheeks wet with tears, devastated by the destruction and embarrassed that Kumar had to see it unfold.
“I just wanted to have dinner.” Lava whispers, low and sad. Kumar’s heart aches at the sound of Lava’s pain and he tries to comfort him, to explain he knows how hard it is to have a difficult sibling.
“That was cruel of him.” Kumar says with a tinge of anger. “You didn’t deserve that.”
Lava’s face pinches, he knows Kumar is just trying to help, but he isn’t sure the friction between brothers compares.
“There is no excuse for that kind of violence.” Kumar pushes. “You just wanted to try and repair-”
Lava huffs in frustration, interrupting Kumar and throwing down a large shard of a broken bowl.
“We abandoned him.” Lava warbles. His voice cracks, scared and disjointed. Kumar shakes his head and starts to disagree when a crunch of glass alerts them to Cherry in the room. Kumar stands slowly, wary of the new villager who was so violent that day in the market.
Cherry stands rigid and alert. He steps over the mess heavily, with sure feet and clenched fists. His eyes stay with Lava’s and they look cold. When they turn away and Cherry climbs the stairs to Jai’s room, Lava’s face crumples.
He doesn’t know how to fix this, he doesn’t have a solution to this problem, it feels too big and too painful. Lava stands and folds himself into Kumar’s arms, letting himself cry and go limp. He just wants it to stop. He wants to be with Kumar, he wants to feel understood and protected. He wants to hide from his brother’s wounds and have someone see how badly his own have scarred.
Kumar holds Lava tightly, his cheek pressed close and his hand rubbing in circles on his back. He wants to hold Lava just as much, he wants Lava to know it will be okay. Kumar understands. Kumar will stand by him.
It isn’t a hug that friends have, it’s deliberate and close and absent of any hesitation. Their skin and muscles fold and bend to be closer, their bodies soften for the sake of malleability. They don’t want their own shapes, They want a new shape, their shape. Kumar shudders at how terrifying that is, how easy it is to hold Lava and feel safe, how that feels like his responsibility . Kumar won’t say it to himself yet, but he knows what this feeling is, this pulse in his heart, this pull at his ribs.
Lava is mine.
Cherry knocks gently on Jai’s door before pushing in.
“Chandu?” Cherry calls out, worried at the silence and darkness that meets him.
There is no response, but Cherry finds Jai sitting still on his bed, his hands tight in his lap. The room is neat and kept together, so different from the mess downstairs. Cherry moves cautiously towards Jai, concerned by the stillness. Jai only clutches his own hands, squeezing and letting go. Cherry places a hand over the clutched palms and Jai jolts at the touch.
Jai’s eyes are cloudy and sad, he reaches for Cherry, grabbing at skin and muscle, searching Cherry for something frantically.
“Are you o-okay?” Jai asks in a shudder, his eyes and hands searching Cherry for wounds, bruises, or cuts. Cherry’s brows turn down in confusion and worry.
“Okay? I-I’m fine.” Cherry says quickly and sits slowly. “Jai, what happened?”
Jai’s arms go limp when he finds no marks, his expression looks guilty, stricken with confusion. Cherry’s hand reaches up, touching Jai’s neck in affection and worry. His self is still fluttering, to the left, to the right. The buzzing of an outline of his identity, but Cherry's touch gives it more stillness, a place to latch onto. It breaks Jai, his face crumples and he starts to sob.
“I knew s-s-she was down there. I k-k-knew she was there.” Jai’s voice warbles and cracks as he cries. Cherry’s heart squeezes as he listens.
“Who?!” Cherry croaks, his own eyes filling with tears. “Your sister?”
Jai puts his hands to his face and lets out a long wail. It frightens Cherry, he wants to pull Jai’s hands away but he doesn’t want to make things worse. His hands settle on arms and shoulders and the spot on the back of Jai’s neck that is only for Cherry to touch.
“Please, prema. Please.” Cherry begs. Jai is reminded of the night Sekhar died, how they sat together before, how Cherry had begged Jai to tell him about Jeevi, and how hollowed out Jai had felt. Why does it hurt so much now, why is the pain so big? Jai wants it to stop, he wants to hide, but he also knows that hiding lost him Cherry once, and he won’t let it happen again.
Jai sags, his form weak and exhausted from fighting, from keeping so many truths to himself. The sobs subside and Jai looks into Cherry's eyes, big and round with worry and love.
“I k-knew she was down there. I k-knew she was in the basement.” Jai says in a long tired breath. Cherry stays quiet, gives Jai the space he needs to get the words out. Jai’s response is a cold rasp, a whisper coming from the bottom of his spine, ugly and terrifying.
“It’s where he took me. ”
“Don’t touch those ones.” Kasi lazily points his stick to a bundle of nettle, hidden under the shadows of the taller palms.
“Poison.” Kasi quips and smiles as Jai stumbles over a rock to catch up. Jai nods diligently and both boys continue to traverse their path in happy silence.
Jai likes spending time with Kasi like this, he is easy to be with, quiet and funny, with little anger in him to prompt any expectations from Jai. Sometimes it reminds Jai of when he was happy with his brothers. Sometimes it feels bigger than that.
Kasi and his brother couldn’t be more different. Even as twins it is easy to tell one from the other. Shatru can be wild and loud, but Kasi likes to watch, to sit and think. Jai understands. He feels that way when he remembers his mother. Jai knows Kasi and Shatru’s father just died, he wonders if Kasi feels the same.
They wander the coconut groves, kicking stones and talking about film heroes. Kasi makes jokes and Jai laughs. Jai hops a stump and a rock and Kasi sways his stick in the cool wind, both can feel a monsoon on the horizon but they’ve survived worse, they know when it will be time to head home.
“Sit!” Kasi instructs and points his stick to a felled tree, earthy and dry, the sweet smell of decay a comfort. Jai laughs and sits and Kasi holds his free hand behind his back. He smiles at Jai mischievously and sways forward, hopping once before pulling his hand forward shyly.
“You said you don’t know your birthday.” Kasi whispers. “So it can be today.”
Kasi opens his palm to reveal a small switchblade. A birthday gift. Jai’s face lights up bright and happy, reaching for the small blade and studying its form. Kasi sits next to him, his cheeks round and happy and they both lean in close to study the knife together.
“It’s sharp!” Jai admires his new weapon and scratches it along the wood to prove its quality. Kasi shrugs and smiles again.
“You deserve it.” Kasi breathes, his eyes gentle and happy. “You are the bravest one.”
Jai looks away bashfully, studying the point of the blade with his small fingertip. He is a thirteen now and teenagers are supposed to feel different, feel strong, and feel things for other teenagers.
Jai had always thought those feelings would flush around Mounisha, the only girl he has ever been close to, ever talks to, but she is his sister, she is family. Jai knows he should be afraid of how his heart flutters for Kasi, how his blood goes warm and skin prickles with the aching need to touch, but he’s always been different. It doesn’t surprise him that he is different like this too.
Jai sees how Kasi’s cheeks burn bright too, he’s felt the brush of Kasi’s hand against his when they fish or when they pull back to walk alone, behind their friends. Kasi’s breath tickles Jai's ears when they whisper jokes together or bump shoulders in the cineplex, watching Powerstar fight the rowdies who tease his girl.
Jai’s response to the gift is easy and feels natural, despite how terrified they both are. There’s an unspoken allowance. Hints and clues and a cultivation of safety. Jai knows Kasi won’t be angry, won’t hit him, won’t tell anyone.
Jai smiles shyly and presses his mouth to Kasi’s, their lips are timid and flat in their youth. It’s short and nervous. Jai pulls away fast, both of them so embarrassed and young.
They both smile in approval and so Jai pushes in for more. The kisses are pecks, sweet and affectionate. They laugh in between the sharp sounds of their lips and their cheeks burn warm under the excitement.
It shocks cold when Jai hears a gasp, both of their bodies splitting apart like brittle wood, shaking and splintering as they see Mounisha in the grove.
“D-don’t!” Mounisha croaks, her feet stumbling back, confused and frightened at the sight of the two boys together.
“What!?” Jai stands on wobbled legs, unsure what to say, or what to do.
“Why are you doing that!?” Mounisha screeches, the small hairs on the surface of her plaits static and excited from the humidity. Even the ribbons tied into bows look disappointed. Jai can hear her anxious feet crunch twigs and shuffle dirt and his heart races against all the small sounds and terrible thoughts that hover in the air of the small groove.
“Akka-” Kasi starts, his demeanor softer, understanding, infuriating.
“That’s wrong!” Mounisha shouts to interrupt Kasi and Jai starts to panic.
“No Akka-” Jai starts, his body shivering, embarrassment and shame flooding in. Mounisha starts to yell, backing away further, looking afraid.
She bolts into a run and Jai starts to chase her. The earth thumps under his feet, leaves and branches whip at his face and Kasi calls to him. Mounisha is too fast. Jai is too afraid and desperate. He can feel the air in his lungs punch at the tree branches and kiss the leaves. He can hear his heart beat against the earth and vibrate against his teeth. Kasi chases them both. He pleads with Jai to stop, to calm down and breathe. Jai can’t let her get away, he has to explain it better, he has to show her everything is okay, he isn’t wrong .
Jai eventually loses his sister in the grove. The birds spring into the air to welcome silence in her absence.
Jai doesn’t find Kasi either. He walks and warbles his worries and roams the small world that keeps trying to crush him.
He doesn’t notice where he is until he arrives. The abandoned haveli, its crumbling walls like the textured wood of the trees in the groove, somehow angry with him. The leaves his feet rustle feel like little souls, calling to him for attention, for someone to witness all the mistakes they’ve made. All the ways they wasted the firm and colorful flesh they once had, now sapped and withered into something thin. Brittle and lost when crushed, forgotten and unwanted, desperately trying to rise on wind currents to feel alive again.
Jai kicks at their corpses and does his best not to cry. He shudders a breath out when a voice from the shadows startles him.
“Lost?” A man asks, his voice the stretch of sinew and malice.
Jai recognizes the shadows on his plump face, shiny from the heat and flat against empty eyes. Its shape and ridges are untrustworthy, a growing absence of something important. Jai steps away from the man, Kaakha’s new rowdy who makes Jai feel watched, feel small and studied.
“She told me. I know.” The man drawls, his voice leads into a laughter that decays, rotting in Jai’s ears. “About you and that other boy.”
“She and I are friends.” The man clarifies. Jai takes another step back, his breathing labored and his heart pounding.
“She wants to tell Kaakha, she wants to help you. She’s looking for you both.” The man speaks faster, feigning an earnest concern. Jai’s eyes dart around and well with tears, he wants to run, he wants to hide. Jai needs to find his sister and stop her.
“I can help.” The man smiles and tries to come closer. Jai flinches and the man’s mouth only stretches wider, titillated by Jai’s fear and resistance. “I understand how it feels. I can show you. I can explain it to her. Come. Come.”
The man waves for Jai to follow, moving backwards, towards a staircase leading down. Jai is afraid and unsure, but both paths seem to lead to something terrible. He could leave and find his sister and she will destroy their family. He could stay and sate his curiosity of any help this man could offer him. He knows this is unsafe, there is an itch behind his ears, an evolutionary pull telling all young children to run when being lured away by monsters.
Jai is young, but he knows how people think things that are different must be wrong. He says Mounisha trusts him. Maybe Jai is wrong. Maybe this man is like Jai, he feels different too, he just wants to help. Jai is too terrified to go home, too scared to face Kaakha’s disgust. He follows the man down and shivers at the creak of wooden stairs.
It confuses him at first. The haveli is old and withered, dust and dirt eating at its walls. Why is this staircase so new? The wood is solid and clean, shiny with polish and the banister smooth against his palm. The door at the bottom is fine too, it unlocks with a crisp click and swings open almost silently. The man pulls at a small light in the ceiling and a small bulb snaps on, giving it a warm and inviting glow. Jai stretches his neck to see inside but can’t see enough. He steps in carefully, still waiting to find something, a little less wary of the man’s movements, a little less uncomfortable.
Jai will remember what happens next for the rest of his life. It will turn and rotate at the back of his understanding of himself, confused and afraid of the implications. It is not what happens that stays in his mind, but who saves him from it.
Mama.
Jai’s childhood gave him an instinct, a muscle memory he uses frequently on the dangerous streets of the city. He can feel when a man is about to hit him. His instincts buzz at the twitch of fingers and the flattening of a palm. Jai can smell when a man’s muscles swell and go rigid, ready to strike, ready to feel powerful and big over Jai’s smaller body.
Jai ducks and pushes himself forward, away from the man who tries to knock him.
“Fast.” The man hisses and spits, his body now only a shadow, silhouetted by lamplight and the open staircase his body blocks.
Jai’s form becomes a spear, coiled tight and ready to run. Before he moves he sees the deepest shadow of the room, the back corner in his peripheral, all but hiding the old mattress and bindings. Jai screams when he kicks, he’s small and fast and the man underestimates this, taking a series of sharp hits while wobbling pathetically to try and grab the teenager. Jai runs, his feet pounding wood. He can hear the man scream and chase but the rowdy is fat and winded and Jai has small hollow bones and whipping curls.
Field grass crushes under his feet. The buzzing of insects passes his ears sharply, creating a wind that funnels cold into his chest. Jai runs. Jai runs fast.
Jai makes it far, to the end of the field, he doesn’t hear the man but turns to check anyway, not looking as he runs full speed into someone at his height.
“Annaya!” Mounisha screams. Jai is dumbfounded to see her, he gasps and pants and turns back to the haveli to see nobody chasing him.
Mounisha looks so tired, the edges of her tattered dress dusted with amber soil. Jai has heard her complain to Indra about wanting her Langa Voni so she can have a saree but Indra scolds her that nature takes its time. Jai didn’t understand when he was young but it is another pin in his heart now.
“Where did you go!? Is Kasi with you!?” Mounisha doesn’t wait for an answer, she grabs at Jai’s arm and tugs. “We have to find Kaakha. He can fix this! We have to tell him, Annaya.”
Jai recoils, yanking his arm away in fear. His eyes scan her small face, round and innocent, confused and angry the way frightened children are when they learn the world is complicated and unfair.
Jai has heard the stories of hospitals and stones and how wrong his feelings are. Kaakha can’t look at him like that, he won’t be able to bear it, he won’t survive another loss. Jai tries to back away, he wants to explain himself, to convince his sister he isn’t broken. Everyone in his world tells him he should feel shame, he should feel like a sinner, but that never felt right to him. It isn’t something he understands himself, but he feels right, he feels like this is who he is. He won’t be able to explain it to her, she won’t understand. Even if she could, his vocal cords are a tight vice, the words aren’t there, and they won’t show themselves.
“Is that where you and Kasi hide?” Mounisha points to the haveli behind Jai and Jai turns to look at it again, no cruel man watching them, only an old castle with empty rooms.
“Is he there?” Mounisha asks gently, her face determined, her resolve solid like stone. She wants to help. She wants to fix this.”He needs to come too. He needs our help!”
Jai’s mouth gapes and he pants, his whole body trembling.
Say something. Say something.
Mounisha takes a breath, straightens her spine, and moves toward the empty castle. She is only twelve, Jai thinks. He wonders for the rest of his life why he thinks this. It stays stuck in the wide caverns of his mind as he ages.
She was only twelve.
Say something! Say something!
“Stay here!” Mounisha instructs, her plaits whipping around her shoulders.
“I will get Kasi myself.” Mounisha passes Jai and starts to walk away. “We will all go home together.”
Jai’s body freezes. His mind screams at him to lift a hand, to tug her shoulder, to tell her to stay with him. But he stands still, he watches her walk through the field and disappear into shadow.
Jai runs. His legs burn, his feet torn on the bottoms. Tears streak his face and sting against the wind like nettle. His lungs stretch and ache and his vocal cords twist like vines, growing in curves to pierce his tongue. He doesn’t know how long he runs but it takes even longer for him to realize the direction. He ran away from Mounisha . He left her.
Jai doesn’t understand where he is until he sees it. The small home full of orphaned children, Kaakha’s home. His home now. Lamps are lit near the porch, a beacon of light in an angry sea, her water black like ink. He can hear his siblings sleeping, he can hear Kaakha thinking, musing over work. The conflicts and politics of a criminal career keep the older man distracted from those darker thoughts, how much he misses his wife.
The house is so quiet, only the crickets are awake and speak to each other happily in the safety of shadows. Jai’s feet burn from running, but the cool wood soothes his blisters. He is so exhausted and the room with thin beds and sleeping teens calls to him. His movement makes the house creek and a soft voice rings from across the room.
“Babu? It’s late.” Kaakha yawns and scratches at the thin fabric of his Kurta. He smiles warmly at Jai, despite the reprimand, and tries to blink himself awake.
“I know you are getting older but you have to be careful to work alone so late.” Kaakha finishes and stretches. He must have been dozing at his small desk. Jai knows the older man doesn’t sleep as well without Indira.
Kaakha’s voice fills the room gently, it’s deep and soothing. In moments like this, it makes Jai feel safe. He wonders suddenly in a panic, did Mounisha tell Kaakha? Is Kasi sleeping in the room with her or has he been bundled off to a hospital, to speak to a doctor about his sickness? Would Kaakha be so kind and calm if he had? Or is this a performance? Is Kaakha waiting for Jai to let his guard down to pounce? Will men spring from the corners and trap Jai, drag him to a cage, and try to beat these feelings out of him?
Jai doesn’t realize he’s shivering until Kaakha grabs at his thin shoulders.
“Babu? What is this?” Kaakha whispers, his expression filled with concern. His hands rub at Jai’s trembling limbs, and Jai shudders at the welcome texture of wrinkles and calluses on hands so much larger than his thin arms. Jai has so much he wants to say, so many questions he wants to ask, but his vocal cords squeeze again, a tightening he has resigned to love the familiarity of.
“W-Where is K-Kasi?” Jai squeaks, his eyes rushing with unshed tears. He is too afraid to ask about Mounisha. Kaakha’s face pinches into a deeper confusion.
“Asleep.” Kaakha turns to the doorway to their sleeping room and turns back. Kaakha parts his mouth to speak again but shuts it slowly, unsure he should probe, unsure how to.
Jai lets out a long sigh and lets small tears tumble down his cheeks. Seeing Jai cry is alarming to Kaakha. The boy is so often reserved and quiet. Kaakha has seen him do brave and wild things, but Kaakha also often feels lost. He doesn’t know how to raise children the way mothers do, the way Indira did. There is an unspoken warmth, past a threshold Kaakha is too weak to cross. If he gives too much kindness, if he leads by the hand into the kind of manhood a son loves in his father, he cannot ask them to steal, to be cruel, to push away from morality, and Kaakha knows those are the only ways some of them will survive.
Kaakha’s hands start to drop and his eyes find the thin flooring. Jai sniffs, pulling back, letting his muscles go rigid, protecting his strength.
“W-W-What if-” Jai starts and swallows, Kaakha’s eyes lifting as he listens. “Y-You told me. A good leader protects his men.”
Kaakha sways his head slowly, his eyes sincere. Jai swallows again, Kaakha is in awe of how young he is, how strong, how determined.
“W-What if-.” Jai starts but Kaakha interrupts him.
“Always.” Kaakha says sternly. “Their lives are yours, if they will die for you, then you will die for them. No what if’s.”
Kaakha can see how Jai’s expression threatens to crumple but he schools it, the small nose flushed, his eyes strained.
“Always.” Jai whispers to himself and Kaakha reaches for him. Jai will remember it was the first hug he’d ever been given by an older man. He tries his best not to cry and cannot remember if he succeeded. But, he does remember the kiss, small and quick to the top of his head, through the wild curls he has always tried to tame.
And the rest of the night is silence and shadow. Jai found his way into the sleeping room. The darkness blanketed each small body to look like one breathing mass. He did not look for Kasi or his sister. He crawled into that bundle of limbs and tried to find peace.
The next day they look for her. The next day they find her. The withered bones of leaves guide their way. They find her in the place Jai will name Lanka . He won’t tell his brothers about the mattress soaked in blood. He won't tell Tapan about the binds he cut from her wrists and ankles, the rag stuffed in her mouth. He will keep those secrets for them and he will stay with her down there.
He will burn himself in this place with her.
When Jai cries it's a painful scratch of air against the walls of his lungs, like he can’t breathe. Like he is learning how to breathe.
“I love you.” Cherry whispers at the shell of Jai’s ear. “My Pandava . I love you.”
Jai only presses himself close to hide, feeling unworthy of Cherry’s devotion. This pit is deeper and darker, this pit will dig down forever.
“I wa-wanted to tell you bef-fore I told Harsheli.” Jai rasps, his voice nearly lost, his eyes and nose raw and dry.
Cherry pulls away from the hug and sways his head sadly, grateful and mournful, but most of all, so tired.
“You were children.” Cherry offers weakly. “I was too. I understand.”
Cherry's eyes are earnest and deep. Jai watches as both of their paths unwind through his memories. He knows how parallel the two currents flowed, how they twisted and turned at crucial points in desperate attempts to find each other. Cherry tries to smile, the flash of worry in his eyes makes Jai's heart ache.
Jai drops his gaze and watches Cherry’s knees pressed against his, they are so much smaller than his own, his calves thin and lanky, the ankles small. Jai’s heart floods with affection, knowing how much Cherry had to survive, knowing how lonely it was. Knowing better than anyone else. Jai’s hand covers a knee cap and rubs, sniffing away tears, unwilling to look away, unwilling to let go of that bright spot. They have each other now.
“I will go to hell for it.” Jai argues and Cherry’s laugh comes out wet.
“You don’t believe it.” Cherry smiles, his tears tumbling down. “If you do, then we will be together.”
That thought shouldn’t comfort Jai but his heart still swells. They kiss, it’s wet with suffering but sweet in the relief that it brings them both. Their mouths pull away reluctantly and Cherry’s brow pinches, an anxious look flashes across his face as he hesitates to speak.
“It was very bad in Hyderabad.” Cherry whispers.
Jai squeezes Cherry’s forearms tight in his warm hands, not wanting to hear it, but unwilling to tell Cherry to stop.
“You wrote me a poem.” Cherry’s face stretches as it smiles, but that happiness turns sour. “I wrote you something too.”
Cherry explains the night he wandered the city alone, clutching an envelope, a letter for Jai, a short and simple goodbye.
“I stood on a cliff, near the beach.” Cherry’s voice cracks, becoming frantic. “I just wanted to sleep. I wanted to be alone. I missed you so much.”
Cherry sobs, pushing forward and clutching Jai’s vest, ashamed at how weak it makes him sound, embarrassed to admit how badly he wanted to swallow seawater. Jai’s face crumbles and he presses it to Cherry’s hair, his shame overwhelming. It would have destroyed him, it would have sent him to a darker place, one he’d never been to, one he only saw glimpses of after Rohini. That version of himself he’s always felt at the back of his spine, a demon that terrifies him to imagine.
“I’m s-s-sorry.” Jai pleads.
Cherry only presses closer. He explains finding Ravindar and throwing away the letter. How he felt less alone, how Rishi gave him safety. The conversation is stilted but it happens. Cherry reveals terrible feelings and terrible thoughts.
“Would someone tell you? Would you talk about me like a crushed flower who loved you? Like Rohini, like Sekhar, like your sister?” The questions are so raw they take with them unintentional cruelty. But Jai knows Cherry needs to say them, and he needs to hear it.
Jai chokes on sobs in response, unable to express how deeply that perception of him breaks his heart. There was a time it wouldn’t touch him, where a stone heart would feel like armor, like steel walls too slick for vines to grow on.
“I d-d-did that.” Jai rasps.
When Jai tells Cherry about the bath, about the pot on his chest, Cherry breaks again, his face angry and terrified.
“You don’t do that! You don’t!” Cherry screeches, clutching the fabric over Jai’s chest and tugging.
“We both don’t die!” Cherry commands and Jai eagerly agrees, willing to promise anything to make this stop. Cherry inhales a heavy breath and goes limp against Jai.
“Don’t say those words. I don’t like them.” Cherry warbles, his shoulders small again, his voice thin.
Jai sways his head and presses it to Cherry’s hair.
They eventually move to weave into each other's arms, their weight too heavy to sit up, the need for an embrace too strong. Cherry rests his head near Jai’s heart, the thin vest tugged away to expose more skin, more warmth for Cherry to explore.
Cherry traces a jagged shape with his finger over Jai’s chest, the ends of his blunt nails catch curled and coarse hair and pinch the warm skin underneath. His breath wisps at the image it makes, a drawing of Jai’s heart, now damp from Cherry’s tears.
“We match.” Cherry whispers, exhausted by a sadness that reshapes and forces change into new light. “We belong to each other like this. Like window glass after a monsoon. Glued together badly to keep the rain out.”
Jai hums, happiness flooding over him at the opportunities this new light brings.
“Then we will keep the rain out.”
Their embrace contracts tighter with their very smart plan, the duality of accepting the hope, the assurance of being together, and the awful possibilities of being torn apart. Those two polarizing truths twist into something digestible, something easier to swallow. There is a gentle awe that comes from its absorption, as it is chewed and crushed and can seep into skin, muscle, and bone. When it feels itself being consumed, any remnant of spiritual waste, floats up and out through the kiss into the ether, satisfied with being known, content to leave their hearts more room for stronger truths.
For each other.
Jai can feel the cold floor through the thick mat. This place is familiar now and all together still strange. Its walls, once edging into the concept of comforting, now tower over him like monuments, here to witness how Lava will recoil from him.
“Thank you for coming, Lava. Jai has done good work here. He has made headway on tempering the rise of his Pitta while encouraging his other Doshas to find space inside of him.” Harsheli smiles and Lava does too. It makes Jai uncomfortable.
“Still, Jai struggles, and he needs your help.” Harsheli continues. She puts her hands to her chest, outlining the shape of herself in demonstration.
“There are ruptures. Wounds left unrepaired, leaving behind knots of disconnection.” Jai’s body compresses further, the tension and anxiety climbing.
Harshelli’s hands turn to fists and rotate before pushing up, mimicking the path of energy up her torso.
“These knots derail the free flow of energy Jai needs to make connections, to live, to love openly.” Jai wants to crumble into the earth.
The spike of emotions crushes against his throat as images of Cherry flood through his mind. Shame washes through him at how defunct he feels in front of Lava, at how much he needs to be like everyone else, at how small this room makes him feel.
“For Jai to let go, for these old wounds to finally heal, Jai needs to digest his darker Samskaras . He needs to feel them .” Harsheli tries to offer Jai an expression of comfort but the veil between himself and them is too thick for it.
“As they rise, as they demand to be known” Harsheli continues. “Jai’s Brahma builds a fortress, refusing to let him process, refusing to let him feel. The Samskaras built with Charan were easier to digest because ultimately, they were rooted in a foundation of trust. Unfortunately, I believe, between the two of you, Jai cannot find those same roots.”
When Jai does finally lift his eyes to look at his brother the expression he finds is strange. On the surface, Lava looks determined, given an important task, a high responsibility. But, there is a wavering uncertainty underneath, a small pinch of his brows, a twitch of his nervous fingers. It makes Jai feel even worse.
“I want you to start your Pranayama Jai.” Harshali clips. Jai’s attention snaps and he realizes suddenly that he will have to participate.
Jai does his breathing as he is instructed. Jai can feel Lava imitate the practice gently. It steadies his racing heart if only a little, and when Harsheli feels Jai has done enough she stops him.
“The pain you felt in your home yesterday. You need to find it.” Harsheli instructs. “Where does it come from?”
Jai thinks. He tries to answer quickly and with confidence.
“B-B-Balarama.” Jai rasps, his eyes darting to Lava, then back to his yogini.
“No. We've tried that path.” Harsheli reminds him. “You never reacted to him that way in Lanka. This is deeper. Find it, Jai. Where does it come from?”
Jai’s expression quickly edges into frustration. Harsheli redirects.
“I need your help Lava. Help Jai remember.”
Lava startles, his mouth gapes and he tries to smile but it falters as memories and emotions find their way to him. His face goes sad, he looks at his older brother, and words tumble out.
“It was me.” Lava rasps. “I brought him to our home. You felt alone again, just like-”
Lava stops, his lips trembling, tears rushing to his eyes.
“Say it Lava. Talk to your brother.” Harsheli’s voice is comforting, an encouraging whisper, a reminder that she is merely a porter, a guide to get them to the mountain.
“The night she died. It was cold. The rain-.” Lava swallows, a look of shame flooding his face. “He never let you sleep with us. He put you on the floor. Alone.”
Jai remembers that. It was something he had been used to. Only allowed to sleep under them, forced to fan their overheated bodies in the summer, not allowed to rest, and not allowed the same affection as children sharing their parent's bed.
“You were alone.” Lava continues. “You looked at me. I wanted to be with you but I was a coward. I left you there.”
Ja feels the emotions buzz under his skin, the heat of grief warming his face. They are asking to be seen, to come out and be known.
“Your hand came out to try and hold mine.” Lava sobs again, crying so easily. “I turned away from you Jai. Amma had just died, and I turned away from you.”
Jai lets out a shuddered breath. It wasn’t her death that destroyed him, as much as being alone. Being abandoned.
“Do you remember what I said to you in Lanka? That-” Lava swallows tightly, sniffing away tears. “-That I couldn’t understand how Bharata left without Rama that day?”
Jai does remember that moment, how much it meant to him, how much it terrified him.
“I was so arrogant.” Lava winces, more shame and guilt.
“We were your Rama and Lakshmana. We left you. Alone in that kingdom, with sandals on your head.”
Jai’s face crumples at the comparison and his heart aches that they were forced apart, that they couldn’t grieve and grow and heal together. That Mama’s cruelty took that from them.
“I’m sorry it took us so long to come home.” Lava warbles and reaches his hands out.
“I-I-It wasn’t you.” Jai rasps. “We-we aren’t the sons of Dasharatha . Y-You we-we-were children. So was I.”
Lava lowers his eyes, shame still overwhelming him but he breathes, and something small lifts into the ether.
“It wasn’t your brothers.” Harshali says softly.” It wasn’t your uncle. It wasn’t the man in the basement.”
Lava’s face pinches in confusion at the mention of a man he doesn’t know. Jai looks away from that secret.
“Who are you angry at Jai? Who keeps the pain in your heart?” Harsheli’s voice continues to push and Jai shudders at how it tries to claw its way inside.
“It-It” Jai stammers, his mind resistant, his entire body terrified of an old truth.
He had told himself it was the anger of a child, unfair and rigid, a mistake he once felt that shames him to admit. But now, as he grows and learns and opens himself, he is less convinced of its injustice. The words try to crawl up his throat, sharp claws and angry screams that feel so out of place, too big, too loud. But, they demand to be heard, demand to be known.
“Who are you angry at Jai?” Harshelli’s voice turns stern and flat, demanding he unveil the truth, demanding he accept it.
A dozen images flash in his mind, memories like photographs filtering through his swimming vision. Old photos of his father, his uncle’s expression of disgust, the jealousy and shame on his brother’s faces, the judgment in Mounisha’s eyes, and the hunger in Srinivasa’s. It is all so familiar and still, so wrong. They don’t connect to what he feels, to this anger, to this broken river of feeling.
The last face comes, and the pain is a match. His teeth clench, his eardrums pulse. The pain in his chest is stabbing, trying to cut its way out. It isn’t a face at all, the slow turn of a head, frazzled small hair’s in an old plait, the guilty turn of two eyes not wanting to see her sins.
“Amma.“ Jai whimpers, his voice broken and sad. He can feel Lava’s reaction, wilted and afraid, confused and small.
“S-S-She turned away.” It’s all Jai has the strength to say, his voice small.
Jai had run to her in the beginning, telling her how Mama hurt him, begging her to make it stop. She had said nothing, turned away from him, and continued her washing. The pain and anger had been overwhelming then. Too big for his small body to hold. It felt like a switch had been flicked, something inside him had been turned off, a way to protect him, a way to let him survive.
Jai feels warm hands in his and opens his eyes to see Lava’s palms soothe and grab at his own. Jai looks up, his eyes meet his brother’s. Suddenly the pain is less, suddenly the anger feels like strength, instead of weakness.
“She was supposed to protect us.” Jai says firmly. Lava hears the ‘us’ very loudly.
“If I-” Jai starts then feels that wash of guilt again. Harsheli’s eyes find his and she motions warmly for him to finish.
“If I had a child. I would die before I let anyone touch her.” Jai breathes heavily. “Why didn’t she?”
Lava’s face flashes with sadness and his eyes well again. He looks to Harshali for permission and she smiles in response.
“She was in pain too.” Lava counters. Jai’s body goes rigid, afraid of that response, afraid of being alone with this.
“It made her selfish.” Lava finishes in whispers, like he was just as afraid, just as angry. Jai’s shoulders wilt at that and the memories of all the different ways his pain did the same.
The hand you hit Cherry with.
Lava squeezes Jai’s palms again to pull him back.
“Our story is different. It’s just us now.” Lava says and sniffs, his expression going warm, love radiating off his body in waves. Jai’s heart aches for Kusa again, wanting him to be here, wanting him to know this warmth too.
Jai lets out a long breath, his meditation over and Harsheli smiles knowingly, proud of the way she was able to help.
They talk for a little longer, they apologize and laugh. Jai’s words are still short and unsure but they come out, they are said and they are heard. They let each other know they love each other in the way brothers do and they slowly pull themselves away to go back to their family and share that love.
Harsheli stops Jai before they leave and Lava waits at the door, only able to hear a little of the conversation.
“Continue to talk to Cherry, and when you are ready-” Harshelli’s eyes dart to Lava and smile, then back to Jai. Jai sways his head gently and breathes. Harshelli puts two fingers to Jai’s chin, only a moment's touch then whispers gently to Jai.
“Use your voice.” Harsheli says, and the words settle into Jai’s heart.
The once expansive traveling caravan is now reduced to a single short bus pulled by a rusted auto. It’s full of props and puppets and it parks in shadow easily. Its brightly painted colors are concealed by the small village’s green canopy.
Balarama twists and turns inside, decompressing from the day’s events, from his selfish family and the wild demon he had been forced to endure. Jai had been a punishment the universe wrought for the burden of loving his sister.
It was strange to see his nephews, an empty point in his chest wonders if he will ever see them again. His mind brushes the thought away violently and the rage that rises at what they took from him fills the empty space.
Mama, as they still call him, even as adults, hobbles around the small bus he lives in, knocking into plastic jewelry and brushing against cheap fabric stitched into devotional garb. The palm wine he was able to buy with the money Lava paid him for visiting is nearly gone, but he throws back a heavy drink like the bottle will refill on its own.
Mama stumbles again and lands his palms in front of an old mirror. Balarama cranes his neck to study the welts that wrap around it. Marks from Jai, still and forever the wild demon sent to torture him, a mistake the universe has yet to correct.
Balarama laughs to himself at the memories of the past, the vibrant fame and fortune his two favorite nephews gave him. The righteous judgment he gave to that wretched child born with them. Mama could see the wildness in his eyes even as an infant, the mirrored soul of his father, that wastrel who soiled his younger sister and left a part of himself behind.
Balarama’s lip curls when he remembers how Pavitra tried to liken Jai to their father, giving the lame fowl that name, as though the small Rakshasa could ever live up to it, spoiling his legacy and reminding them both how Pavitra had broken their father’s heart when she eloped.
He smirks when he remembers how pitiful she would cry when he told her the truth, that she had killed him, that their father’s heart had given out in disgrace and shame. The bull horns through his chest were the universe coming to take him, but it was her betrayal that made the mountain of a man give up on his life.
Balarama wilts at his misfortune, his self-pity, and dissonance a heavy blanket over small voices that whisper about guilt. He wets the fluttering fabric with another swill of palm wine, too drunk to hear movement behind him, the swift patter of feet, and the light breath of someone rushing him.
Balarama is pinned to the creaking wall of his van and knocked again to crumple at the ground. He yelps out pathetically as his nose bleeds from the impact, and his hands sting shoved against cold metal. He gasps at the feeling of a sharp blade against his throat, the muscles tightening as his glassy eyes turn to his attacker.
“You have no family in Rangasthalam.” Cherry hisses, his eyes wild in the dark.
“If you ever come to my village again-” Cherry presses the blade closer to Balarama’s skin and the man twists and cries out in fear.
Cherry softens, turned by the older man’s pathetic behavior. It’s only for a beat, before his body goes rigid again, his lip curling in conviction. The blade pulls away fast, but before Bellarama can sigh in relief, his wrist is tugged and Cherry uses the weapon to slice fast and hard.
The pain is slow to register but Bellarama can see it, his index finger on his left hand is gone, cut and pulled away from his body. He wails out and struggles but Cherry is strong, holding him down through the carnage.
“This is mine!” Cherry yells, clutching the small bloody digit tightly in his palm and showing Bellarama his prize.
“Find me in my village. I will take the rest of you.” Cherry threatens, low and dark, his eyes black and Bellarama sways his head weakly, shivering from pain and shock.
Cherry studies him for a beat, then stands to press back into shadow. He disappears slowly, leaving Mama to wail in his small puddle of blood.
Sleep comes easy now. Jai’s bed is softer under his body, but strong enough to hold his weight. The work he did today with Lava has settled like a foundation in his soul. Jai is still embarrassed to admit how much healing these wounds mean to him, but he won't let those feelings stop him from going forward.
Jai’s sleep is heavy and peaceful, but his instincts remain sharp. When he hears the latch of the window turn he sits up, his eyes squinting in the moonlight to watch a figure crawl in. There is a small moment of tension, Jai’s nerves on alert, but it soon subsides as the silhouette becomes more familiar. Jai reprimands himself for assuming it would be anyone else.
Cherry huffs as he nearly topples to the ground, he grunts when he stumbles to right himself, then pads in quietly. Jai’s sleepy eyes see the same backpack and the ratty cheetah print jacket. A spike of fear shoots through Jai that Cherry is leaving, taking his things and walking away from the village.
But Cherry smiles and it brightens the room as he shuffles closer to the bed. The backpack Cherry carries falls from his left shoulder and slumps to the ground. The ugly jacket goes too. Jai’s eyes watch them rest, then crawl back up to Cherry’s warm expression.
Jai wants to ask questions but pauses as Cherry moves to place something on Jai’s side table. Cherry’s fist is clenched tightly but the object falls deftly from his palm to the tabletop. Jai blinks for a moment, needing a moment to process the gift.
It’s a strange thing to recognize a severed finger. It’s dark and crusted with blood but Jai knows who it once belonged to. He shudders at the implication and looks back to Cherry with a strong swallow.
“P-Pandu.” Jai says in short alarm. He isn’t upset in the way most people would be, but the offering is dangerous for both of him. Cherry smiles sweetly.
“I only took the finger. The rest of him he can keep.” Cherry quips.
Jai smiles gently and decides not to worry now, not to break the slithering coil that connects them, twisted but ethereal when it appears. The gift is precious too, Jai’s heart fills with affection that they are so similar, jagged and ugly but strong. A reminder that they come from the same life. Jai knows they have to be careful, they have to live simply and turn away from their darker impulses, but he supposes a finger or two won’t destroy them.
“Is my Chirutha still downstairs?” Cherry whispers. Jai blinks and turns gently to look at the dark doorway, then sways his head yes.
“Good.” Cherry smiles, teeth bold in the darkness, still crooked and beautiful.
“Now all my things are here.” Cherry scrunches his nose and Jai’s face is still afraid to misunderstand the moment, to jump to hope.
Cherry lets the ratty jacket fall from his arms. He grabs the vest he wears at the frayed fabric over his belly. His body stretches and his thongs slip off his feet. Jai watches and breathes deeply. Dark skin tries to blend in the shadows but Jai can differentiate the tones, warm oak and carob against the empty voids around them.
Jai reaches out to touch, his palms find a warm belly and the valley of coarse hair leading up. Jai’s hands shift and pet until he feels the thin floss of Cherry’s molathadu . His fingers instinctively loop around it and his palms cup at hip bones and the swell of flesh behind.
Jai’s heart squeezes when he sees the holy thread. He wonders how long he’s bought it for himself. If he too imagines his mother's hands tying knots and whispering blessings. He wonders if Cherry does it for himself, or if like Jai, he does it to remember her.
Skin, muscle, and blood warmed like milk under fingertips. Jai watches Cherry smile, his eyes round in awe. A coldness washes over him, it swims under goose flesh and rigid hair follicles. Jai’s anxious eyes draw up and pull with them the threat of hot tears. A never-ending fountain inside. Cherry’s body is beautiful and it hurts to stand so close to it.
“I am afraid I ca-ca-can’t love you the ri-right way.” Jai chokes on the words, their syllables barbs and patchy thorns in the dust that lines his throat.
Cherry pulls gently on the lungi at his waist, the loose knot unfurling and the soft flannel slipping away. Cherry smiles as Jai’s eyes dart up and down, swallowing thickly at the reveal of nudity so tender.
“Yes, you can.” Cherry laughs, sweet and honest, his naked form moving further into Jai’s hold. His knee coming to the bed to rest, pushing himself there, not asking permission.
“It will just take a long time.” Cherry whispers close. His hand lifts gently and finds Jai in the dark, his short index finger pointing to Jai’s heart.
“Your whole life.” Cherry rasps, his finger turning back to point at his chest. “My whole life.”
Jai can’t say who pushes into the kiss first but he knows all of their kisses will be like this from now on, instinctual, fluid, finding each other in the space that keeps them apart.
Cherry’s limbs wind and bend and grasp, then gather like a bundle in Jai’s embrace. The hold is a relaxed draw but anchored in conviction. The desperation from Lanka, that rush and terrible fear is absent here. They are together now, and there is nothing left to prove, only a fountain and love is left to rustle in the ashes of their old selves. Jai tries not to let it overwhelm him, he tries not to shake, he tries to focus on the heat and swell between his legs and the way Cherry breathes when he feels it too.
There is an energy shift. Jai can taste it in the air. Cherry’s spine straightens, his muscles stiffen and his body looms to cast a shadow. Jai is more than happy to watch Cherry indulge in whatever impulse he finds but this moment feels different, it turns sour. Cherry stretches himself and moves forward to straddle Jai. There is a wave of melancholic confidence, something tantalizing and seductive that feels more protective than playful.
Cherry arches his thigh and rotates his hips, his hair falls like silk roots over glassy eyes. Those fucking vines. The expression is dark and Cherry’s body is cold. Jai can hear the creak of bone like the guttural clicks and chirping of reptiles in Cherry’s shoulders. Sounds that mimic blood clotting or digestion struggling. Cherry wants to be sexy, to prove he’s worth Jai’s arousal, to use some false sensuality like a shield. Jai saw glimpses of it in Lanka and indulged in the performance, it protected them both. But Jai can’t bear it now, that rigid wall to keep out too much intimacy, panting, and the folding of fabric in ways that make sex look cinematic. The pull of fabricated expression, the sounds, and the push of limbs. Cherry sighs and It feels afraid, it feels like pornography.
Jai stops them, tangled together, picturesque on the bed. The movement is sharp and Cherry’s expression turns anxious. Cherry stops a building protest when he sees Jai’s eyes, open and clear and full of love. Jai’s palm on Cherry’s cheek asks him to focus, Something clears in Cherry’s vision, his shoulders slump, and his body sags at the small places where fat sits on his body. Suddenly hair appears, blemishes, and the awkward bend of someone who wants to be close, someone who wants to fit, not concerned with aesthetics or the smooth surface of skin.
Jai flips them. Jai tugs Cherry closer, yanking his thigh to wrap around at an angle that looks like a branch, a flower stem. Cherry’s back bends forward, to hold him, it doesn’t arch back. Cherry’s body is not something to covet this way, it’s something to touch and kiss, it’s closer now.
“I love you.” Jai rasps, his eyes wet and his voice a brush of summer grass against dry wind.
The noise Cherry makes is embarrassing, moved and pitched strangely like seashells forcing their way past his anxious vocal cords, the elastic sway of a plant stretching from the ocean bed. Cherry breathes and tries to hide himself against body hair and the musk that radiates off Jai’s skin. Jai can hear a muffled response. I love you too. Shy and afraid of the sudden connection, so unsure and punctured with balled fists at Jai’s collar bone.
Jai kisses bony knuckles that anyone else would say are ugly.
Jai could say so many things, how much he missed this, how good the sex is, how beautiful Cherry is when he’s naked. But there aren’t enough words for it. Jai has been talking and talking for days and he is tired of it. So he presses down and shares the heat. His lips find Cherry’s mouth and the kiss helps them both breathe.
They move together, pushing and pulling, palms wide and curious. It’s strong now, a hold with a foundation, muscle, and bone firm. Jai groans at Cherry’s strong shoulders, how they tense and bend to make Jai feel safe. The rasp of breath and the wisp of body hair both harmonize with the sharp sounds of wet lips. Cherry’s tongue is slick too and the push of it into Jai’s mouth makes his entire body thrum with arousal. He feels his cock grow fatter, the warm rush between his thighs making him groan between kisses and Cherry smiles in a puff of air. The buzzing of nerves, the rising heat, the swell, Cherry feels it too and teases.
“Is this mine?” Cherry asks as he cranes his body to pat at the pillow behind him. Jai stops a whimper from escaping.
“Is this my side of the bed or yours?” Cherry taunts. “Do I get a drawer?”
Jai presses closer and takes more kisses from the laughing, torturous thing wiggling beneath him. Cherry’s laugh is just like Jai remembers it, breathy and uneven, strange in the way it punches out of him, almost like coughing. Like Cherry is still learning how to do it, unsure from so little use.
Jai quiets the playful sound with a roll of his hips, his cock brushing against belly and skin and the swollen muscle between Cherry's legs. Cherry’s expression pinches and he whimpers, his startled breathing intoxicates Jai further, their bodies tender and sensitive to each other’s touch. Jai’s movements become more pointed, his hips rolling like a wave. Cherry groans at the friction, his voice going lower, his muscles going soft, allowing the tide to crest over him, smoothen the pointed parts of him, the ones sharp and afraid of being hurt again.
Jai’s blood swells too, he can feel it rush between his legs. He is still overwhelmed by how easily his body responds to Cherry, and how fast the fluid in the rivers of his body rush under his skin to press closer. Cherry's response is always so placid, simplicity rooted in such foolish trust. He smiles and breathes warm summer winds and Jai feels heat and sweat and the buzz of life, asking him to thrust harder.
“I missed you.” Cherry whispers with his eyes closed.
Jai wants to say it too, but the feeling threatens to muddle the desire. He wants the heat to rise, he wants to give Cherry a good night, the ones they used to have, wet and hot and filled too full of unspoken love. Shame threatens this night too, how upsetting it is that Jai's throat tightens again and he still struggles to let Cherry know the depths of himself, how he feels, how incomplete he is without the man he loves so much.
Jai's mouth presses forward instead, his lips slick. Kissing collarbones and shoulders and stretching to find a nipple to tug on with his tongue. Cherry whines, his cock going wet. Jai feels it pulse against their bellies. He angles his hips towards it and gives his thrusts more weight. Their naked bodies pull and stretch and they both leave marks on each other. Neat square teeth marks, only barely pressed into skin, the wet shine of saliva, small white moons from short fingernails, and red welts from sucking.
The window still pulled open, the air rushing in, warm and dewy in these months. Jai can smell the wet on petals and blades and the rigid bark yet stripped from the groves. Untapped palm swells trunks to creaking and harmonizes with the old creak of the bed they make love in.
Suddenly the touch isn't new or made with intent. Suddenly they are just moving, Jai tilts his hips and the rhythm synchronizes. Suddenly they're fucking. Jai’s grunts become demanding. Cherry’s own are desperate.
Jai feels Cherry’s teeth on his neck again, then his velvet tongue. Jai's cock throbs as it fucks between their bodies, sliding along Cherry's sensitive skin, reveling in every whimper and sweet noise his hips pull from the trembling man beneath him.
“Jai, Jai.” Cherry rasps, sweet and full of love.
Jai finds Cherry's mouth again in the dark. The clutch is warm and wet, a new taste that will stay with Jai for the rest of his life. He remembers notes of the flavor, tasted hesitantly in the past. The night of Srinivasa’s beheading, Cherry's mouth was desperate and alone, sickly sweet like jaggery cooked down to syrup. The night Jai tore Cherry out of his heart, striking him, the crackling sound like curry leaves in oil.
Their first kiss, under sunlight and colored glass. The kind of glass his Amma would hold his hands up to, his excitement glistening from his eyes, at how glass could change the color of his skin. He remembers laughing, and his brothers mimicking his exhilaration.
Colored glass kisses he decides, taste like Cherry. Cherry tastes like that right now.
Jai’s spine goes straight and he pulls up, pressing his palms to Cherry’s thighs. Cherry’s moan is loud. Being pushed flat and now having room between them to see everything. Jai’s cock, heavy and angry with color, wet at the end. Cherry’s own cock throbs. A flush of shame and arousal rushes through both of them as they watch each other. The swollen pulse they share, the wet coloring and bright tips peaking through tight foreskin.
Jai thrusts and Cherry grabs at their cocks. A smaller fist with a tight grip, twisting with each stroke. He drops Jai a few times, drops himself, lets his hand snake to their balls, pressed against each other, pulling and touching, grabbing again. Feeling how heavy they are too, full and sensitive.
Jai’s cock aims for the fist when it returns, and then the crease at Cherry’s thigh, and then the swell of a small belly. Cherry becomes distracted, his palms reaching up, feeling Jai’s chest, how the muscles bunch as he moves. Nimble fingers find the thin nipple rings and play.
Cherry avoids the gunshot scar. Not tonight.
Jai makes a broken sound and his hips speed up. His hand pulls back and grabs at Cherry’s pushing it back to their cocks. The desperate direction is endearing to Cherry and he obeys.
The half smile on Cherry’s face reminds Jai of every other expression Cherry makes during sex. Turned down brows at being moved when he doesn’t want to. Coy smiles when Jai fumbles with his cock to get inside. The surprised grimace when Cherry can feel the penetration finally, and the desperate sad eyes when Cherry is going to cum. Like he is afraid Jai won’t let him or will disappear once he does.
Every face in every memory and Cherry’s fist pulling back is enough. Jai lets out a cry and pulls away, letting Cherry’s thighs relax, lifting his hips to tower over Cherry and aim. He grabs himself, stroking his tight foreskin forward and back.
The orgasm is strong but walks softly through his body, like it’s in no rush, not afraid of getting lost but pounding at the thin barrier that separates his body from everything that isn’t his body. It takes time to find Jai’s chest, surrounding his heart to keep it safe. Jai can only be thankful.
Rushes of pleasure form his head, to his limbs, to his cock, waves like a warmth you can’t find from water. His cock directs it, takes the lead in everything he feels from this point on. Rigid and thick and in love with his own hand. His fingertips feel the heartbeat, the heat, the swelling tightness of arousal. His cock frantically orders Jai to flip Cherry and cum inside him. Stay in there, stay until your hard again and can cum again. He laughs at the moment of madness inside himself and groans long and hard at the first pulse of cum.
Cherry watches with wide eyes as Jai cums a wild amount. His face pinched and flushed, every muscle flexed and swollen with pheromones. Cherry whimpers as it hits his skin, his belly fluttering. The orgasm unloads months of pent-up frustration. Ropes of warm fluid, white and pearly against the color of carob.
It lands from Cherry’s cock to his chest. Jai watches the muscles twitch and when his vision finally focuses he can see Cherry trying eagerly to finish, stroking quickly and panting. A sweet look on his face, trying to keep up. Jai’s brows pinch and he tugs on Cherry’s elbow, pulling it away.
Jai all but slumps down, his body flooding with relief, the soft bed a comfort against his belly. He tugs and shifts his limbs and his mouth finds Cherry’s cock. Cherry wails. Molten warm lips and the soft inside of Jai’s cheek. It’s enough for Cherry. The familiar feeling crests, rushing through his body again, carrying a name with it this time, knowing who this feeling belongs to. Jai Jai Jai.
Cherry punches out staccato moans that pitch higher with each sensation. His orgasm climaxes and his body responds and moves the way electricity does. Touching points on the bed, Jai, himself. Flashes of connection punctured with the sway of his dark hair. Jai pushes his mouth further and Cherry cums at the back of Jai’s throat.
Jai swallows and hums at each pulse, aware of the way Cherry’s body convulses and vibrates against the bed. Cherry’s hands come to Jai’s head, squeezing and leaving marks, tugging on ears and small curls. Jai laughs, Cherry’s cock still in his mouth, and ruts his still sensitive cock against the sheets. If he could, Jai would be hard again.
They both mumble sweet things, incoherent things, crawling and bending on the bed to find each other. Arms and hands and a wet washcloth from Jai.
I love you. Laughter. Sighs. I missed you. Is this my side of the bed?
It’s a haze until they fall asleep. Even before they do, Jai watches Cherry drift off. Afraid to close his eyes and wake up without him.
Cherry dreams about fucking. About sinking down on Jai’s cock when he sleeps. He wakes up in the night and blushes with laughter, curling back around Jai to go back to dreaming.
Lava wants to make everyone breakfast. Only the three of them are awake this early. Cherry is sleeping upstairs and Chitti stayed home the night before. Jai wobbles his way to the kitchen, to the small island Lava works frantically at. Kusa looks hungover and exhausted but all too excited for a breakfast he doesn’t have to cook himself.
Jai can smell the sour idli batter and the tomatoes in the sambar. He raises a brow at Kusa, sitting on his floor cushion, who only flashes a silly grin, then winces at the energy it took. Jai scoffs and leans over the island toward Lava to try and get his younger brother’s attention.
“I’m just starting!” Lava assures Jai, a little breathless, a little awkward. He clamors around the kitchen, fumbling with the plates and cooker.
Jai isn’t surprised, the session yesterday was healing, and needed, but even he feels confused about what to do now. How to behave around Lava after something that left them both raw and worn through.
“Come sit.” Jai clips and motions his head towards Kusa.
“Oh, but-” Lava starts, and Jai’s face shifts. He expresses sincerity with his eyes and Lava deflates, his awkwardness fading.
“Please Lava. Come.” Jai sits with Kusa and Lava shuffles along behind him.
Kusa has an expression of curiosity mixed with disappointment of no breakfast. Jai tries not to find it funny. This conversation is going to be hard.
Jai looks at his two brothers. There are times when their faces look more like his own and times when they look nothing like Jai or each other. He can’t decide what they look like right now, he is too anxious. He knows they look like they are worried, and that they love him, so he takes a shuddering breath and uses his voice.
“When I was young, after we were separated, I had a sister. Her name was Mounisha .”
Chapter 22: Mitrā́váruṇā
Summary:
Mitrā́váruṇā: Mitra & Varuna, the same-sex lovers in hindu mthology.
Chapter Text
“You’ll feel it here.” Jai assures Cherry and stretches a hand out to put his palm to Cherry’s belly.
“Ma-ni-pu-ra.” Cherry pronounces the word slowly at Jai's touch.
Cherry’s body jumps a millimeter at the pressure, his expression happy and warm. Jai wonders if it’s from the attention or a playful mistrust in the practice.
“Expand the muscles as you inhale.” Jai instructs. “Then tighten in as you exhale."
Jai demonstrates slowly, his pranayama flowing smoothly from experience. Cherry watches how Jai's belly pushes out, then tightens flat with each breath.
Cherry tries to follow but expands and contracts his diaphragm playfully, huffing a laugh at how it feels and how his abdomen swells and snaps back. He notices the subtle twist of Jai’s mouth at his laughter. He puts his hand over Jai’s as it still rests on his belly to apologize.
“It helps?” Cherry asks softly, trying to smile.
“I think so.” Jai rasps and pulls his hand away. “It goes with my Ram Japa.”
Jai wiggles his mala on his wrist after mentioning the mantra but pulls back from the topic, suddenly shy. Cherry resists the pull to smile when, again, Jai's sweeter emotions look like anger.
“You have to do it alone.” Cherry clicks his tongue. “Is there something we can do together?”
Jai’s eyes soften, and his ears perk. He shifts to scoot closer and sways his head.
Jai helps Cherry into Yab Yum gently. They push slowly, fitting their bodies together, their limbs sometimes clumsy and soft. Jai guides Cherry through each position. He's relieved when Cherry follows diligently, trying to take it seriously. Jai wonders if it's out of respect, or being too distracted by intimate touch.
“I like this.” Cherry whispers, and Jai clicks his tongue.
“Focus on my breath.” Jai laughs and tightens his hold. His arms wrap around Cherry, resting on his back. Cherry shifts and breathes, settled in Jai’s lap, their chests touching, Cherry’s head on Jai’s shoulder. It's so warm between them, their temperatures syncing, the rivers of prana flowing together in a familiar dance.
They’ve gone through to the last position. As hard as Cherry tried, he still managed a few quiet laughs during movements. Jai forgives him for breaking the meditation, too in love with the silly laugh to be upset.
Cherry rubs his cheek slowly against Jai’s shoulder, enjoying how well he fits in the larger man’s lap. Cherry can feel the shape of Jai's hips under his thighs, the heat there. He feels Jai's cock too, sitting docile and imposing under his pelvis. The temperature shifts from one breath to the other, and Cherry sighs. Jai's fingers flex and his palms push. He sighs too, when he feels Cherry's thighs tighten around him.
Cherry takes in the musky smell, the heat of the day making them both damp. It's a heavy scent, filled with more than just skin and memories. The energy in the air shifts. It doesn't surprise Jai but it's a sudden and heavy weight. Cherry's hips shift and then rotate, the intention clear to both of them now.
"Wanna fuck." Cherry whimpers into Jai's ear. It isn't a question. Jai laughs and adjusts his posture.
"Then we are doing it r-right." Jai quips, his voice deep and smooth. He won't admit it now, but it's an outcome Jai had hoped for.
Cherry pushes back, his hands on Jai's front now, palms firm and strong against the round curve of Jai's chest. He pulls his feet back to lock his knees and rises up. Cherry's hips rotate again, firm and strong, his hard cock tenting his short briefs. Jai thanks the weather for the decision to complete the practice nearly naked.
Jai groans and smells Cherry's heat in the air, the musky scent of arousal radiating from between his legs. Jai's own smaller briefs stretch as he swells, blood rushing to his cock in sympathy. They both moan, and Cherry's mouth finds Jai's. The kiss is wide and wet, a long swath of passion and connection. Jai muses to himself how easy the tantric connection was to make, how softly they slip back into trying to melt their bodies together.
Jai's hand moves to feel the fat shape of Cherry's balls as they try to peak past thin fabric. Jai cups and pets with each rotation of Cherry's hips. Cherry moans loudly and keeps kissing, moving his mouth to Jai's neck, his tongue hot and heavy against Jai's pulse.
"Chinnu." Jai sighs and tugs at the cloth that separates them.
Their cocks are yanked out and pressed together. Cherry's moan turns to a laugh. Their hands snake and grab and press at the tempo of their thrusting hips. Cherry's hands move to grab Jai's shoulders and squeeze.
It feels all so familiar and safe. Jai remembers who they are again. Remembers what sex with Cherry feels like. Except now, it doesn't terrify him. Now, Jai's heart swells, his cock hardens, and he pulls on them both, their joined mouths moving in tandem with their slick hands. The sounds they make together are a song, it stops being responsive and comes instead from impulse, from all the other ways they know how to communicate with each other.
Cherry's sounds pitch higher and Jai knows he is close. The change in how his muscles move, his breath, the sweet expression, worried again it will disappear. Jai works to speed up their movements and smiles. Cherry, suddenly relieved, smiles too. They can feel the thread that ties them together. The tantric practice, immature and shakey, still finds that strong stitch that connects their hearts.
Cherry's long hair brushes Jai's nose, and they kiss again. The warm white fluid finds their fingers, and they cum together. Cherry's orgasm is a shout, guttural, and long. It's a note that bounces off Jai's skin in vibration. Prana rushes up and down their spines like bouncing embers, hot and cool over the trail they leave behind. Jai's cheeks flush, and Cherry trembles. Their finishing breath tempers the tantric seal.
"Nenu Nenu Premistunnanu." Someone whispers.
"Tomorrow." Kumar assures Lava with a smile. The expression is soft against the slatted light of the window. The sunset gives them space to be alone, for shadow to protect them. It smells like paper and dust in this office and Lava hopes his clothing keeps it for him.
"Do you think they will listen?" Lava asks hopefully.
"We have to try." Kumar sighs and his expression wilts as he hears his own words, but he does want to believe the Panchayat still has honorable intentions.
"If they don't?" Lava swallows, quiet and anxious.
"Dakshina Murthy." Kumar clips as he stands to collect paperwork. Lava's eyes widen at the mention of the MLA, but he gathers himself and notches his head in agreement. It scares them both to consider, but they know it would be the right thing to do.
Lava admires that about Kumar, his courage and conviction. It reminds Lava of all the things he prides himself in. Jai calls it stubbornness, but Lava's heart swells when he sees it in Kumar. The strength to do what is right, even when it's dangerous.
They finish together quietly, cleaning the small desk and office where they've found comfort over the past few weeks. Lava feels a pang of guilt, knowing they've spent more time than necessary working through the various math and moral conflicts. How much unnecessary stress have they caused the village, waiting so long to act? Lava once struggled to admit the reason behind their delay. It's become easier to face it the longer they hesitate. Knowing Kumar's resistance to push means something.
Kumar doesn't want to end this. Lava doesn't, either. The thought of not seeing each other so often causes an ache, a splitting. It feels like a magnetism denied proximity, the vibration of attraction becoming more and more violent with each step they take away from each other.
Lava pulls himself from these thoughts when he realizes he's staring. Kumar looks up, and Lava huffs, shaking himself with a smile. He hands Kumar his bundle of papers and does his best to resist the sensation of their hands brushing. There's a static spark. Lava tells himself it's the dust and carpet. They hold their things and gather together near the one window in the small space, a ritual now to drag out the inevitable goodbye.
"I can come with you." Lava offers, trying to keep his eyes on the disappearing sun, trying to sound casual and unaffected.
"No." Kumar's response is quick but lacks bite. "I don't want it to feel aggressive. It will mean more coming from someone familiar."
Kumar pauses, afraid his words may have been offensive, but Lava sways his head reassuringly.
"My family is too new to the village. I think it's smart." Lava agrees. His eyes are kind, and Kumar does his best not to get lost. Kumar's brows pinch, and he shifts the energy between them.
"How is your brother? Jai? Was everything-" Kumar stops as Lava's expression pinches. It isn't defensive, but anxious.
"Lav, I'm sorry I-" Kumar tries to apologize, but Lava stops him with a hand.
"No. I understand. Things are better. Things are good." Lava is embarrassed to discuss such personal things. That day was painful for everyone, and Lava still holds onto guilt. Kuamr should not have had to see something so violent and emotional unfold, something so private.
Still, Lava can't help but cherish the memory of Kumar's comfort. How kind and supportive he was of Lava. How he defended his choices, albeit selfish ones. Lava wonders if he deserves that kind of affection and then feels guilty for wanting more.
Lava's attention shifts to Kumar's tight expression and prepares to dismiss another apology.
"It's not my place, forgive me. I am afraid I've become too involved. I never wanted to overstep." Kumar attempts to take a step back out of respect, but the sway of Lava's posture stops him. Lava's mouth gapes, trying to find the right words, then laughs in a huff.
"My taming of you has done you no good at all." Lava's smile begs Kumar to relax.
Kumar laughs, remembering The Little Prince and the mutual teasing they've done over childhood books. They often quote their favorite lines when appropriate, almost as if it's a game to fit those big ideas into parts of their small lives, so different from those faraway stories.
"I do feel thrown into something so unfamiliar." The thought is a slip, and Kumar nearly pulls it back. He hopes Lava takes it as a comment on their conflict and not their sudden desire to stand at windows together. The mirror of implications says so much and could reveal so much. Lava's response is forgiving.
"You need to have faith." Lava offers. "Even if we do need to meet with Dakshina Murthy, I am more than sure that you will rise to whatever he expects of you."
Kumar laughs. It's sour and full of self-doubt. They are talking about the unsaid, the only mentioned in 'perhaps' or 'if all else fails.' Kumar sighs and navigates their secret wonderings.
“I doubt people would think of me as suitable for politics.” Kumar's head dips and his shoulders press closer, closing the small space between them.
Lava's mouth opens once and then closes. He watches how the thin rays of saffron light change to blue and catch Kumar's skin, how they reflect off the liminal coloring of his eyes. He is suddenly filled with so much gratitude that they get to see each other in the evening, that these meetings happen before the sun sleeps. The color of this light loves Kumar.
Loves Kumar.
“I think of you.” Lava whispers. Kumar's expression changes, opening up wide enough to absorb more, more light, more energy, more of Lava. He swallows and turns to see the sky through their dirty window. Kumar exhales. This is dangerous. He's had coded conversations like this before. It feels familiar enough that he should have anticipated their path leading here. Kumar needs to be careful. He needs to walk away and leave everything coded, leave it quiet and unsaid.
He sees the full moon and fails. He can only think of more stories. More things to share.
“The lovers are out.” Kumar's words slip again, and his body flushes. Panic. Relief. A sudden surrender to truth. He is weak and some paths are unavoidable.
The words are sharp in Lava's ears as memories rush through his mind. The moon and the old story, the lovers. Lava hears his mother's voice and it becomes a palm that pushes at his back. Lava sways forward and swallows a gasp as their mouths press together. Lava has to stretch to reach him, his feet arching up. Kumar instinctively leans down, his back curved and his hands finding the softer body that reaches for him. The kiss is flower petals and yellowing pages from a book. It breathes between them. The moonlight gives it image. It exists in the universe now.
Loves Kumar.
Kumar can feel Lava's hands on his chest, flat and sweet with questions. The touch deepens their kiss, a round and open sensation without language. The brush of their mustaches feels like a familiar sin to Kumar, but it doesn't translate this time. It's different. It's a tongue that tastes like water and sunlight. Lava's lips, Lava's mouth, a draught of elixer only Kumar would recognize. Different. Kumar can't remember kissing anyone else. Any press of bodies or swipe of lips are flames snuffed out by the inferno Lava lights inside of him.
Kumar presses in. Desperation peaks, and he clutches at Lava. Hands hold and pull and explore. They find ears, stubble, and soft fat on hip bones under cotton. Lava makes a noise when their mouths part to breathe. It only pushes Kumar to continue, pushing his tongue, not wanting any space to exist for doubt to fill in.
Their lips are loud in the small room. Wet and soft listening to Lava's insistent little noises. Kumar wants this, wants this so badly, wants to keep it and take it with him. Wants it to live inside him and stay safe from everything else on the outside. Kumar can feel their noses press, then their foreheads. They finally stop to breathe, lost in the damp that floats around them. Their eyes meet again and find a wet happiness in each other. Kumar moves for another kiss, but a voice startles them both.
"Kumar! Annaya!"
Chitti's voice is a crack of lightning between them. They pull away and straighten themselves as Chitty barrels into the small room. His attentions find nothing important, more concerned with his simpler worries. They both sag in relief, for once grateful for Chitti's blind spots and terrible hearing.
"Eh!" Chitti exclaims at seeing Lava, ready to extend an additional invitation.
"Dinner!"
Kusa has his palms up facing each other. He gradually pulls them apart, creating a ridiculous asset of tension in the story. Jai watches the display of measurement, amused. He scoffs when Kusa finishes.
"Stop." Jai teases and tries not to laugh.
"It was, it was!" Kusa argues. "Maybe a little bigger."
Jai chews slowly and lowers his brows, unconvinced of the exaggeration. Kusa retorts, frustrated.
"Hey! It could of killed me!" Kusa screeches. Jai gives in to laughter.
"Why?" Jai pops more nuts and relaxes on the floor of his room. Kusa wiggles around, trying to find a reason.
"I wanted to know!" Kusa explains. "You don't believe me."
Kusa rolls his eyes at Jai's dismissive expression.
You don't ever take it, do you." Kusa clicks his tongue, making the question a statement.
Jai's face freezes in shock, then twists, amused yet surprised. Kusa only deepens his expression of disappointment.
"Poor Cherry." Kusa sighs with a devious smile.
"Aye!" Jai throws nuts at Kusa, who flinches and laughs.
Jai appreciates having someone to talk to like this, someone who isn't afraid of vulgarity. He had this in Lanka, with his men, with Cherry, but here in this small village, they must be careful.
The banter reminds Jai of who he is, of the places he doesn't belong in the modern world, and the places he does. Sometimes, it is a comfort, and sometimes, Kusa teases a little too hard. Jai pushes into his annoyance, a bit more than warranted, a playful kind of anger. He calls him colorful insults and throws more nuts. Kusa only laughs louder.
"What do you know?! Mine is probably bigger too!" Kusa scrambles to stand, knowing he may need to run.
Jai throws the entire bowl of nuts, and Kusa squeals, darting from the room.
"We're identical, Yedava!" Jai yells and chases after him.
Kusa is too fast. Jai follows him out of his room but loses sight of him after the stairs. The familiar high laughter echoes as he sprints through the house and out the front door.
Jai pants, catching his breath in amusement when his head snaps to the phone ringing in the kitchen. It's an old plastic landline that Jai preferred over cellulars when they first went into hiding. Its trill is sharp, and Jai shuffles over to answer.
Jai yanks on the receiver and grunts.
"We didn't find much." Munna chews betel while he speaks, and Jai can hear it. He lets out a frustrated sigh.
"There are certificates and paperwork I can send over, but nothing new on Cherry." Munna calls out to someone nearby but returns to the phone quickly.
"His uncle?" Jai asks, and Munna huffs.
"In prison! Fell into something dirty with an MLA. And-" Munna hesitates, and the receiver creaks in Jai's hand.
"He never paid the hospital. The money Cherry traded for confessing, his uncle took it and ran. Cherry's mother died, waiting for it."
Jai's entire body tenses, and heat flares under his skin. The rage is sudden and terrifying, and he has to breathe to keep from breaking the phone.
"Send me the p-p-paperwork." Jai grits through his teeth and exhales to ask about the haveli when he's interrupted.
Shatru stands at his doorway, his breathing labored and his hand clutching the wood panel.
"Kumar-" Shatru clips. "-did something stupid."
The meeting with The Society went as well as Kumar could have expected. They denied his questions, became agitated with his math, and insulted Ramalakshmi's intelligence. The situation nearly became physical as the society shoved and tried to take the receipts from him. Still, Kumar kept his composure, remembering Lava's faith in him and his responsibility to the village.
Kumar left quietly, knowing the only remaining option was one he was still hesitant to indulge in. He changed course and decided to try and plead his case one last time with a higher authority.
President.
Standing barefoot, standing lower to the ground, Kumar shuffles paperwork and stutters questions, his glasses slipping until he readjusts them.
President doesn't say much, dismisses Kumar's concerns, and makes degrading comments.
"How could they know how much they owe me? They can't feed their families. They can't even read numbers." He says it without looking at Kumar, he says it annoyed at being asked to even speak to Kumar.
It isn't the insulting language. It isn't the offensive way President finds Kumar beneath him. It's his money. President calls the loans his. Kumar knows that money, the society's money, is government-funded. President owns this government of his, this small village, and the illiterate people in it.
Kumar leaves, slipping his thongs back on. He meets with Dakshina Murthy and takes his party flag. The advice is what he and Lava both expected.
He will run for the post of President in Rangasthalam.
Kumar shifts the weight of the flag pole over his shoulder and smiles. Chitti runs towards his friend Kusa and boasts about their confrontation with President 'Phanindra Bhupathi.'
"Did you see!" Chitti exclaims, his smaller flag wobbling in his grasp. "I said, 'Sir, politics have started in Rangasthalam!'"
"Like a hero in the movie!" Kusa jokes and fidgets with excitement.
Kumar can hear Kusa's laugh and flushes at the affectionate way they sway around each other. To strangers, it would look like friendly play, but to Kumar, it feels like an intimacy that's too public. Kumar finds a place in a nearby fence for his flag to stand. He moves to pull Chitti home when Kusas' mirror nearly bumps into him.
"Oh! Kumar, it was wonderful!" Lava beams, his eyes filled with pride. Kumar can't ignore how similar that gaze is to the look Kusa gives Chitti. He tries to temper his gratitude.
"It's unfortunate. The Society was so uncooperative, but now we know the truth!" Lava's excitement softens, and he puts a palm to Kumar's arm, warm and soft.
"What you are doing is important. You should be proud." Lava steps closer. Kumar suddenly remembers the heat and taste of Lava's mouth. The ambivalence is jarring.
"There is still so much to do." Kumar tries to sound distant, casual, and friendly. "We will need ward members to support us and-"
"Oh, we can campaign and hold fundraising!" Lava interrupts, his mood forcing Kumar to deviate from his own.
"Let me throw a party! Just a meal and drinking! My brother can get barrels from the canteen, and Chitti can-" Kumar's mask cracks and he warms over the sweet babbling.
Lava is impossible to ignore. His happiness swells and engulfs Kumar until suddenly, he isn't afraid. His anxiety melts, and he swims in the light that shines from Lava's smile.
"We can do this Kumar." Lava sighs, and Kumar notches his head. He hears the 'we' echo in his heart and tries to enjoy it.
Kumar hesitates to enter his home. He suspects they won't be happy with his choice. He is afraid to disappoint them. The small charms his mother hangs from the porch rattle against his nerves. The wind tries to push him forward, but his worries keep his bones stiff. This decision puts his family in danger. He cannot predict how The Society and President will react or how they might retaliate. His father's health is already strained, and his mother worries too much about all her children.
Kumar can't add to that weight, and yet, he already does. He isn't married, he sends so little money back home. Involving himself in this conflict will only make his family's life harder. Kumar enters his childhood home quietly, scripting an explanation in his head when he hears hushed whispers.
"He needs a wife!" The voice of Kumar's father is harsh. He finds his parents in their small kitchen, their backs turned to him, whispering against the window. His father sounds angry, and his mother looks afraid. Kumar keeps himself quiet and hidden in the afternoon shadows.
"He will, he will!" Kumar's mother soothes. "He is different mogudu."
"He is stubborn!" His father argues. "He wants to run around like a child with friends and chickens!"
Kumar's body flushes with shame. It's another mention of the way Chitti makes friends with other boys. Kumar's father's voice says it with disgust, and his mother's voice strains.
"Mogudu, we can't-"
"I can!" His father bellows, and Kumar can feel his mother recoiling.
Kumar knows his father isn't violent or cruel, but, like Chitti, he is stubborn in his convictions.
"We should have sent him to hospital sooner, he needs this fixed. Then he can be a good husband. With Kumar at work-" Kumar's father pauses, exasperated. "We need Chitti to choose! We need-"
Kumar leaves quietly. He can't bear to hear more. His heart aches for a beat and then turns to ice. The choices he's made have disappointed them. First school, then work, and now this. They are waiting for him to find a wife, but can't complain about their accomplished son, so they turn to the one who is broken. Kumar has to protect his brother from this. He has to take this responsibility and make his parents proud.
Kumar needs to get married.
The excitement settles down. Kumar finds his wardens and starts his campaign. Erru Serenu's mother is the first one brave enough to support him. Shatru lets Jai know his frustrations with Kasi getting involved.
Jai watches Lava float. His brother rambles on about the campaign and the good work they will do, but Jai can see it's more than that. Lava spends more time at home, pestering his brothers. Lava looks lonely. Lava makes excuses. The young candidate is busy, and with new responsibilities, his time spent with people will look different. Jai isn't convinced. Jai sees the slight tremor of anxiety Lava tries to hide. He knows when one of his brothers are upset.
"I am sure he will have time for us tonight." Lava rushes around their home, taking stock of what he will need to host. "A party after the festival will be perfect to celebrate his nomination!"
Jai's eyes scan their small home, a spike of annoyance at having to share it with villagers. He remembers today's festival. It should be short, but with the fair rides and food, it will be busy. Having a place to go and drink afterward is smart of Lava.
Jai only worries about the village meeting their strange family.
The sun is bright in the market. Its warmth heats Jai and Cherry's skin, drawing out perspiration and melanin. Jai softens inside at the thought of how Cherry's complexion will change because of it. Cherry complained once that morning but let it go for the festival. Jai can only hope to nurture against that impulse, shower Cherry with enough adoration to unlearn that his dark skin is ugly.
They walk through the festival slowly, allowing their arms to brush against each other at soft points. Cherry wonders about the ache of not being able to show affection in public but allows the thrill of keeping it secret to replace it. Along with the sun, the colors lend light to a landscape of fabric and paint. Costumes and masks litter the festival, giving contrast to the banners, flags, and ribbons that hang overhead. The music and drum beats are boisterous and children's laughter can be heard among the melodies.
Cherry laughs and cheers at performances and retellings. Jai loves watching him, even when Ramayanic reminders flip through the pages of his childhood. Jai compensates by finding Cherry sweet snacks and sour drinks. Things to lick and swallow slowly, torturous things. Jai does his best to temper the impulses that rise while they wander. Cherry's skin is damp from the heat. It makes his eyes look bright and his skin tempting to touch. Cherry ties his lungi tighter than most men, it hugs his thighs and hangs high enough to expose the soft, lighter skin above his knees.
Cherry's eyes and lips taunt Jai with a fixation he knows won't be suitable outside of their room. Jai wonders if Cherry knows the effect he has on Jai. If he's doing it to torture him. Cherry laughs when Jai stares and then pinches at his arm. It's one of many secret touches they pass back and forth throughout the day. A small brush of texture and sensation as often as they can. They can relax a little when they find Chitti and Kusa at a booth offering bangles.
"Twenty!?" Kusa scoffs but hands over rupees. "Pick them Chinni."
Kusa whispers the endearment and winks.
"For my sister!" Chitti says loudly to himself and grabs at the colors he likes. He chooses a few thicker bands, the ones meant for men, negating the exclaimed lie of choosing a gift. He slips on the gift as they walk away, wearing it proudly.
Jai sees the endearing exchange for what it is but furrows his brow at its carelessness. Kusa and Chitti need to practice discretion. They need to stop being so fucking obvious.
The two men run in Jai's direction and point to various activities they want Cherry to join them on. Jai doesn't feel excluded as he's learned any invitation to Cherry is usually extended to Jai these days. He thinks they find Cherry easier to convince, and Jai is obliged to follow Cherry anywhere.
"There, there!" Chitti points and wiggles in his excitement. Jai's body tenses when he sees the creaking wood and dangerous height of the attraction.
Jai hesitates when Cherry begs to ride on the Ferris Wheel. Jai looks up at the two men powering the ride's movement and grunts. Cherry pleads again, and Jai relents. Chitti and Kusa run ahead, happy and wild at risking their lives for a spin. Jai tries not to drag his feet but he's never liked festival rides. He quiets the voice that reminds him, he was never allowed to ride them.
It's a dance to take their seats after waiting in line. The two ride operators climb, pull, and use their weight to get the wheel to spin. Cherry delights in the chaos as he often does, and Jai braces himself to endure it. People shout in cabs and toss food. Little newspaper cones of popcorn are shot airborne and Jai's shoulder's hunch to dodge them. He knows one must be Kusa's and he will only complain later of having nothing to eat.
Regardless of the speed and unstable carriage, sitting in the small car together is nice. Jai and Cherry have an excuse to push closer. Cherry can smell the musk wafting off of Jai, a scent he has fixed to memory now. He smiles with gratitude and amusement at getting his way on the ride. As the wheel spins and picks up speed, Cherry yelps and shouts. Jai tries to enjoy Cherry's excitement, ignoring his brother in the cab in front of them.
"Faster!" Kusa yells, shaking his fists as Chitti's body shakes with laughter. Kusa looks back and smiles wolfishly at his older brother and Cherry. He rocks the cart playfully and turns back to Chitti, babbling about spaceships.
Cherry turns to Jai in a mimic. The wind created by the spinning wheel runs through Cherry's hair, pushing it over his eyes. When he brushes it back, he sees Jai sitting stiff and staring at his hands, gripping the car's lap bar. Cherry watches Jai, the way his muscles are locked, how his brows are turned down, and how his eyes fixate on one point in front of him. Cherry can also see the nearly imperceptible tremble that travels all over Jai's body, giving away how much he hates this.
Cherry smiles and moves his hand to Jai's. It's gentle, but it stills the trembling. Jai looks up sweetly, giving Cherry a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He's trying. The warmth in Cherry's chest spreads, and he smiles wider.
"I love you." Cherry whispers against the breeze.
Jai's shoulders slump, and his expression flickers. His eyes express something close to affection, and Cherry rubs the pads of his thumbs over rough knuckles. Cherry lets them off at the end of the rotation to apologize. They find a shadow, and Cherry says, 'I love you' again without words.
The party is small but alive with energy. Lava knows people mostly came for the food and toddy, but he can't help but feel a swell of pride at its success. He wanders from person to person, attending to his guests' needs and meeting new villagers. The novelty Saregama Carvaan, painted saffron for Hanuman, plays old NTR melodies. It was a gift from Kusa to Chitti, who now carries it around the village like a monkey with a drum, happy and loud.
Lava ends up joining Chitti and Kusa for a game of Goli. The heat of competition can be a bit much for Lava, who wilts at conflict, but Kusa and Chitti laugh when they argue, win or lose. So Lava plays.
"You're terrible at this!" Kusa laughs as Chitti aggressively aims his marble through a determined squint.
"Don't tease." Lava says softly but the toddy is loosening his mood and sparking his playful side. Chitti groans and frowns when his marble misses, and to Kusa's credit, he celebrates gently.
"Go, Lava! Go!" Kusa bounces in his squat, impatient for his turn. Lava misses terribly, but he laughs and hands over his last marble to his very happy little brother.
"I'm worse than Chitti." Lava squeaks. Chitti's frown deepens, and he points an indignant expression toward Lava. Lava takes the loss as an excuse to resume his duties as host. Kusa warbles out a complaint, wanting to do another round, but Chitti pulls him back, ready to avenge his honor one-on-one.
Lava sips his drink again, ready for another plate of food and to check on his guests, when a smattering of greetings stops him. At the front of the house, he can see the top of Kumar's head enter the home and his body thrums with excitement. He clumsily pushes past his guests to get closer but stops when he sees Kumar isn't alone.
Lava remembers vaguely that Kumar had asked to bring a guest, but he had assumed he meant Chitti. The conversation had been quick on that day, and Lava had assumed the rush was a result of the busy ongoings of the election. Regardless, the alcohol and excitement dull Lava's ability to see the obvious. He sighs as he finally reaches Kumar and smiles sweetly, a flush on his cheeks from the heat and drink.
"Kumar." Lava breathes.
Kumar forces a smile, but his composure stutters. Lava doesn't greet the woman standing next to the candidate even when she smiles in his direction. Lava only focuses on Kumar, dressed brightly in his politician whites.
"Welcome, Congratulations!" Lava says brightly and babbles about food and games. The guests surrounding them praise Kumar along with Lava but eventually go back to their toddy and gossip.
"Thank you, Lava." Kumar offers graciously, but again, his demeanor is temperate.
Lava tries to ignore the nag at the back of his throat, the quiet warning that something is wrong. He finally acknowledges Kumar's guest when she presses closer to the taller man. She is very beautiful, with pitched plaits and round eyes. She has a natural beauty one would see in modern paintings of Maa Sita and her prince. The gold bangles and gentle jewelry reflect against her milky skin. Lava feels a strange pang in his gut as she shifts her eyes sweetly to Kumar, hinting at a secret.
"Oh, s-sorry." Kumar apologizes sheepishly. "This is Padma. S-she is at school in Rajahmundry."
Padma bursts into a bright smile and blushes. Lava's brows knit at the endearing behavior, then drop when Padma gently links her arm through Kumar's elbow.
"We are-" Kumar stops but suddenly looks anxious. Padma finishes for him.
"He is shy. So sweet." She laughs. "Kumar is foolish. He thinks my father won't approve."
Lava's face isn't sure how to move. It heats and swims with confusion. He remembers their meetings, how Kumar never mentioned Padma, how close and singular things felt. He members their kiss, and his heart aches. Lava's mouth opens, and his eyes well when he feels a warm palm at the back of his neck.
"Lava. I need your h-h-help." Jai speaks close to Lava, keeping his voice down.
Kumar clears his throat at the gesture. He fidgets as Padma ignores the tension and beams at her companion.
"A politician now, Kumar!" Padma praises and then leans in close.
"He will have to let us marry now." She whispers, and Lava's insides crumble.
Kumar's face washes with a sudden guilt as Lava lets out a small noise. Padma's face shifts to light confusion. Lava starts to speak, but Jai won't let him.
"Lava, the food is on fire." Jai growls and yanks Lava away toward the kitchen. Lava's legs tremble as he's guided away, a thousand thoughts racing between his ears.
The kitchen is tight and cold when they enter it, and Jai is asking questions Lava can't hear. Lava can't see much of his surroundings but remembers food and grabs a tray of roti. He ignores Jai's prodding and pushes into the pantry, a small walk-in for rice and dal. He places the pan on a small prep table inside and hears Jai behind him shut the door. Lava begins to tear at the Roti, shredding each round into smaller pieces. The thin layers peel like garlic skins and newspaper between his fists. He can feel his breathing pick up and his skin flush.
"Lava stop." Jai pleads. Lava makes a frustrated sound and rips more fragile rounds. Jai moves closer quickly and puts his hands over Lava's. The younger triplet freezes. Jai sighs, uncertain how to help.
"Were you fucking?" Jai's question is crude, and Lava's head whips up. He lets out another strange sound.
"N-No." Lava whispers. "He-"
Lava pauses again, his body slumping. His face crumbles into sobs when he finds his words.
"We kissed." Lava's voice is a sad and hollow strain. Jai stands awkwardly and hesitantly. He puts his hand on Lava's shoulder, stiff and unsure. Lava drops his ruined roti and turns for an embrace. He pushes wet tears against Jai's kutra, and Jai tries his best to hug Lava back.
Lava wonders about the kiss now. Did he lie? He kissed Kumar. Did he imagine it? Was it something Kumar only endured out of politeness or fear? But Kumar kissed back! Lava groans into the hug and sobs louder. The memory hurts. It feels like a knife into another misunderstanding Lava has made about love.
Jai wishes Cherry was here. He doesn't know why, but he thinks it would make this easier. Jai feels so unequipped to offer comfort or be vulnerable. These are skills he only seems to understand with Cherry. Jai can easily pour his heart out to the man he loves but turns into a stone wall when his brothers need him. Although, with Kusa, it feels different. Kusa is like Jai, stubborn and detached. Lava is an open-nerve, soft, and malleable to any emotion. Jai finds it's something to admire from afar, but up close, it's ugly and frightening. Jai cringes when he pats Lava's back, frustrated with how bad he is at this. Lava was so good to him when he was healing. Why can't he return this kind of love?
"We can move away." Jai offers. Lava freezes and pulls back. He seems to think about it for a moment. It's a ridiculous idea, but running away is tempting.
"No." Lava slumps. "Kush and Chitti."
Jai hums. It's kind of Lava to think of them now and the mess that would create. Lava cries a bit more. Jai continues to stiffly hold him, as uncomfortable as it is. The least he can do is stay.
"How can he do this?" Lava asks quietly, finally pulling away from the hold. Jai's brows knit, and he hums.
"He's afraid, like m-most of us." Jai offers. Lava hears the meaning in the simple words and sniffs.
"B-But you aren't afraid." Lava counters, and Jai smirks.
"I am." Jai clips. "Ch-Cherry. I could lose him."
Lava looks away, an understanding sinking in. Something bitter and painful.
"But I don't let it turn me into a coward." Jai growls. Lava looks at him with wide eyes.
"You are that way t-t-too." Jai swallows, doing his best to explain. "You and Kush. We're stubborn."
Lava's body seems to settle suddenly, his breath trembling to a stop.
"I don't want to go back out there." Lava confesses. Jai thinks about what to do next when the pantry door swings open and their younger brother's drunk face pokes through.
"Is it a pantry party?" Kusa asks playfully but stops when he sees Lava's ruddy cheeks and shadowed sorrow. Kusa babbles uncomfortably, questioning who and why until Jai finally explains the cause in clipped sentences. Kusa's face turns rigid. Jai recognizes the expression with apprehension.
"Kush." Jai warns his brother and reaches for his arm, but Kusa turns quickly and shoves at the pantry door. Jai calls after him, but his stride is strong and pointed. Jai trails after, anxiety and anger seeping through. He calls out to Kusa again but stops, defeated, when his brother reaches Kumar and Padma.
"Annaya!" Kusa smiles widely and shouts the endearment at Kumar, who startles.
"Do you like your party?!" Kusa asks and pats Kumar's shoulder. His smile and energy feel strange. Kumar's laugh is apprehensive, but he wobbles his head yes and tries to smile.
"Good! Good!" Kusa's hand curls around Kumar's shoulder and shakes playfully. The posture feels silly, considering Kumar stands nearly a head taller than Kusa. The youngest triplet has to pull down to make it comfortable.
“I know Lava will be happy to hear that. You’ve had the food?” Kusa asks gently, and Kumar confirms with another confused nod.
“Lava cooked that.” Kumar's voice flattens, pointing to the half-eaten trays in the kitchen.
“The nice decorations?” Kusa points to hanging streamers and colorful corners. “Lava picked them.”
Kumar’s brows knit as he tries to pull away, but Kusa’s hold tightens.
“These drinks? All the people? Just for you, Kumar.” Kusa’s voice is harsh now, and Padma’s expression shifts to concern.
“You should thank Lava, eh?” Kusa growls. “You should thank him.”
Jai finally intercepts, pulling Kusa off the taller man. He is thankful Chitti is outside with Maisaa, and Cherry is helping Dharani take down his festival cart.
Kusa’s smile is back, bright and a little frightening.
“This party is so grand, Kumar Garu. You must be tired!” Kusa takes Kumar’s hand and shakes it, a strange way to try and say goodbye.
“You must both be t-t-ired.” Jai echoes.
Padma tries to understand the tension, she tries to reach for Kumar who only steps back and motions for her to follow him.
“I am tired.” Kumar rasps. “Tell Lava-“
Kumar stops and swallows. The identical brothers share the same expression. Frustration. Kumar doesn’t finish. He takes Padma’s hand gently, and they leave, ignoring Chitti’s confusion on the porch. Luckily, everyone else at the party is too happy, too drunk, or too kind to notice.
“Lav.” Kusa whispers. Lava doesn’t stir from his spot on Jai’s bed. He sits by himself in the low light and pets at his hands. Kusa opens the door a few more inches and steps inside. The light from the party streams in and illuminates Lava's sullen form. It scares Kusa to see his idealist brother look so crushed.
“Kumar had to leave.” Kusa offers gently. Lava stirs but keeps his head turned away, focused on shadows and lamplight. Kusa takes in a breath and tries again.
“Everyone loves the food.” Kusa blurts out. Lava shifts and turns to show Kusa his flushed cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.
“They do?” Lava sniffs and wipes at his nose.
“Jai hid the last of the pootharekulu for us.” Kusa laughs softly.
“Oh. Good. I thought Cherry might like one.” Lava says softly.
Kusa stands awkwardly, wanting to reach out and fix this but feeling lost on how. His mouth gapes like a fish a few times but then snaps shut on an idea.
“We can’t play Goli with only two!” Kusa shouts. Lava startles and his eyes widen.
“Well, maybe we can, but it’s rotten boring.” Kusa mumbles. “Please Lav. I can’t lose money to Chitti again.”
Kusa puts on his most pathetic expression. He can tell Lava is trying to decide how to politely decline, so Kusa doesn’t let him. Kusa huffs and leaves the room so fast it surprises Lava. Lava leaves the bed and stands close to the door, curious about his brother’s behavior. When he hears Chitti’s voice ring out in excitement he can't help but soften.
“Come, Lava! Thammadu come! Play, play!” Chitti jumps excitedly in the middle of a still bustling party, a few marbles falling from his palm and rolling to bounce against strangers' ankles.
Lava can’t help but laugh. They are sweet and foolish, and his body settles from sadness to comfort. Lava can see Jai in the kitchen, serving toddy, shrugging his shoulders at Kusa’s ridiculous energy.
Lava smiles and joins his brother for another game.
Jai’s body releases a little tension when he sees Lava come downstairs. He can’t say he’s surprised at what Kumar did tonight, but it still angers him. He’s known men like Kumar. He’s heard many stories about men like Kumar. Jai remembers the stories Cherry told him. His heart aches at how lonely this country can make them feel. Jai has always been proud of how he refuses to hide himself. He’s not stupid. He knows it’s dangerous, and that he has a strength many men can’t find for themselves. He wants to understand, but their choices make him angry. Their choices hurt men like Lava and Cherry. Jai stops himself when he remembers.
You hurt him, too.
Jai takes the sour memory and folds it into his heart. He can’t punish men like Kumar but can learn the lessons they refuse to see. He can be strong for Cherry. For his brothers. Jai watches Chitti and Kusa and smiles. They fight, too. They are like Jai. They won’t let Lava make mistakes like Kumar, or Kantri, or Sekhar.
Or Jai.
Cherry walks quickly through the roads of Rangasthalam, breathing happiness into the night air. Helping Dharani took longer than expected, but Cherry enjoyed the barrage of sticky hands and little kisses from Dharani’s young daughters. Cherry always wondered how he would feel around little children. He didn’t have siblings or cousins to carry around parties and sneak sweets. He feels too alien to children to ever consider being a father but being a baba is fun, being an uncle is something he could be good at.
Cherry can hear the party before he sees it. Happy sounds and the clinking of drinks. He catches the warm yellow glow of the inside as it beams out into the darkness. It illuminates the swiped muggulu on the front steps and Cherry smiles, picturing Lava rattling off anxious complaints.
Moths buzz and hoover close by, hoping to seduce a bulb or candle flame. Cherry says hello to moths and friends on the porch and stops at the doorway, looking in. Everyone inside is at least half drunk. Cherry spots Chitti and Kusa laughing with Lava on the floor, too drunk to notice him. His eyes scan happy people and bright decorations, looking for Jai.
He finds Jai in the kitchen, standing alone with empty glasses and half-eaten food platters. He seems to think deeply, watching people socialize and laugh. Nobody seems to notice Jai, engrossed in their conversations and drinks. Cherry shifts to wave to him but stops as Jai is approached by a neighbor. The man walks up to Jai slowly, pushing gently past friends and navigating the sharp turns of the kitchen. Jai’s face perks, his hands bunch into his lungi and he clears his throat, preparing himself to talk, to say hello, to smile. Cherry has seen it before. The shyness that looks like strangeness. Cherry’s heart warms. He knows how difficult other people can be for Jai, how he refuses to admit it makes him feel lonely.
Jai’s mouth opens to say hello when the neighbor looks past him, reaches behind Jai, and takes a piece of fruit. The man turns away, never looking at Jai once. Jai pulls back, embarrassed, his arms folding over his chest. Cherry’s chest squeezes, at the endearing encounter. Jai doesn't make friends easily or talk to strangers. Jai keeps his stammer to himself and turns that loneliness into bravado.
It fills Cherry with love. Jai reads Cherry poetry. He stammers out weak explanations of pain and fear. He begs for forgiveness, and waters hanging flowerpots to make wishes on. He cries about his sister and can't talk to strangers. Nobody wants to talk to him. He can't make friends. He belongs to Cherry.
♫ He's mine.
Cherry points his body toward the man he loves, hoping all of his energy finds Jai. It does. Jai turns enough to see him through the crowd. His face lights with a smile, his eyes bright. Jai’s entire body opens, happy to see Cherry. The shift is like one of his flowers blooming under moonlight. Special and easy to miss. Cherry rushes towards him, quick, light steps filled with immeasurable love. He doesn’t stop. He yanks on Jai’s hand and rushes them upstairs. Jai’s voice rumbles out of confusion, but he follows.
Jai's room is warm and inviting. The moonlight reflects off yellow lamps and the soft glow from the party. Cherry shuts the door gently and pulls Jai to the bed, a reassuring happiness in his eyes. They ignore the chattering on the outside and kiss. Their lips recognize each other. Their palms find soft spots and re-map shapes they've touched before. Jai pets soft skin and even softer hair. He catches only glimpses of the features he loves in the low light. Cherry's hands find coarse curls and strong shoulders. The passion builds, as it always does, but then halts.
"Wait. Stand up." Cherry instructs in a soft voice.
Jai smiles through a laugh and obeys, standing with an awkward sway. Cherry's eyes trace Jai's body, not with heat but, with tenderness. Jai feels the weight of Cherry's eyes and fidgets. It doesn't embarrass him but it still feels strange. Odd to be loved so openly, with so much sweetness. Cherry's hand reaches out and his palm presses to Jai's belly, still rounder than it is flat.
Cherry likes to be in Jai's shadow. As nervous as his posture is, it's still intimidating and large. His curved shoulders and wide thighs leave Cherry breathless. He feels blood rush to his cock and twists his hips for friction.
"I missed you." Cherry breathes, a glint of playfulness in his eyes. "Show me. I want to see."
Jai's brows furrow for a moment before he understands. He watches Cherry crawl closer, then sit and wait patiently for an unveiling. Jai looks shy, unclear on how to start. Cherry pushes his palm under the thin fabric of Jai's vest, trying to be encouraging. He plays with the hair he finds there and thumbs at Jai's navel.
Jai takes the push and pulls at his top. His movements are a little shy, unsure if they meet Cherry's expectations. Cherry would say they do. He pushes his hands up, marveling at Jai's now bare torso and chest. Jai nearly purrs at the attention and relaxes. Cherry's hand moves up, squeezing Jai's pecks and petting the thicker hair there. He tugs at the gold hoop in a nipple and smiles again, teasing all of Jai's points. If Cherry could reach, he would fit his hand around Jai's neck. He doesn't have to. Cherry can see it. The way Jai's cock tents his lungi. It isn't obscene but it's there and Cherry moves his hand to it. Jai groans at the contact and his hips push forward.
"I missed this too." Cherry whispers.
Jai wets his lips with his tongue and breathes. He fits the tips of his fingers under the top of his lungi, asking Cherry permission with his movements. Cherry's smile wides and he grabs at the hidden knot, unfurling and yanking the fabric to the bed. Jai groans again as his cock feels the warm air, dewy and comfortable at night. Cherry huffs sweetly and grabs at Jai eagerly. The dry skin on Cherry's hand makes a deft sound against the warmth of Jai's cock. Like clean sheets on a summer night. Cherry pulls slowly at foreskin, up and down, revealing pink tenderness, wet and bright. Jai makes another noise, louder this time and Cherry shushes him.
"They will hear us." Cherry bites and points his chin at the door. "You have no locks."
Jai's face heats, blushing brightly at his excitement. The rooms don't have locks in the house, only the bathrooms. Jai considers putting a chair at the door when Cherry distracts him with more tugging. Jai can see Cherry's dark nipples when he looks down, peaking out from the twisted straps of his vest. His eyes focus on them and his mouth waters. He watches Cherry move and tug at the rest of his clothing, pulling everything off, down to a thin skimpy pair of red underwear. It looks like a langoti cut from one piece of cloth, thin and stretched tight against Cherry's cock. Jai knows Cherry rarely wears anything under his lungi, like Jai, and wonders if those were picked for tonight. He watches them get pulled away too, discarded like flower petals on the floor.
Cherry's body lingers under Jai's gaze, folded limply and careless when naked. He's clean and his smell wafts off in waves. Jai can taste musk in the air and knows it comes from them both. He licks his dry lips when he sees Cherry's bright cock at his belly. Images flash through his mind. Cherry's cock in his throat, his thighs spread and backside flushed. Jai's mouth can taste Cherry there, his hole wet and soft from thick fingers.
"I want to see too." Jai groans.
Cherry bobs his head no. It's slow and cruel and Jai whines. He shuts his thighs and sits straighter. Jai shifts to move a hand to Cherry, trying to decide on thigh or shoulder or neck, when Cherry dodges the touch. Cherry crawls to the edge of the bed and grips Jai's cock at the base. Jai swallows as his thighs are pressed to the mattress, grateful for the low bed frame. Cherry needs to only bend his back forward to fit Jai's cock in his mouth. He does and Jai has to swallow hard to keep from moaning. Jai's hand settles on Cherry's shoulder to keep his balance.
Cherry's mouth glides slowly back and forth, getting a feel for the shape of Jai in his mouth. Cherry's tongue flattens and pushes out, trying to curl and lap as much as it can. He doesn't focus on doing work, only tasting, memorizing, and remembering how Jai feels inside of him.
"Pandu." Jai breathes, his stomach jumping with each long pull of Cherry's mouth. It's wet and nearly suckling as it moves.
Cherry's hand reaches for Jai's balls and cups the warm sack curiously. It's swollen and sensitive and he squeezes it gently as Jai's cock kisses the back of his throat. Cherry's moans are muffled against the quiet noise he earns from Jai. Jai's cock is wet now, from himself and the thick sticky saliva Jai pulled from Cherry's tongue. Cherry moves back, Jai's cock popping from his mouth and bobbing brightly in the air. Jai tries not to pant, but his fuzzy mind is losing its grasp. He feels electricity swim through his blood and across his face and scalp. He sways again, the arousal making him weak. Eventually, they tumble. Cherry presses his back to the bed, limber legs and arms sending out invitations. Jai's body eagerly accepts but Cherry turns playfully. He smiles and angles his hips back, bending a knee to showcase his bottom and make the small dip at his hip deeper.
They both laugh at Jai's growl and his enthusiastic movements to join Cherry. He presses himself over Cherry, hoovering to kiss his neck and press his hard cock against soft muscle. Cherry half turns, happy and relaxed, looking for kisses and the bump of a nose. Cherry can feel Jai's body hair on his skin and twists a little to feel more. Jai's hand travels up and down Cherry's flank, happy to finally be able to touch. The heat between them builds and Jai shifts his hips again, wanting to thrust, wanting to fuck. Cherry moans low and slow, wanting that just as badly. Cherry's hand reaches back and brushes against Jai's cock, his hand lazily gripping and positioning to signal what he wants. It isn't hard for Jai to understand.
Jai drops his weight and flops to the side. His hand moves fast to Cherry's bottom and his fingers find the soft crease, dusted with fine hair. Cherry sighs but wiggles away on his belly. He reaches for the side dresser and yanks out a small tin of lubricant. It's something homemade and thick Chitti gave Cherry with a playful wink. Jai squeezes on Cherry's bottom while he waits and smacks it playfully, eliciting happy sounds and more wiggling.
Jai hums when he's handed the tin and swaths his fingers immediately. The consistency is waxy and viscous, like lanolin or pomade. Jai decides to trust Rangasthalam's designated homosexual and applies the sticky substance gently. Cherry approves and pushes himself back against Jai's fingers. The lube is cool but glides nicely. Jai continues to apply it generously, over Cherry's balls and down the short shaft that lies underneath. Cherry's body jolts and then demands Jai speed up. Jai obliges and presses his thick fingers in. They are slow and careful movements, first one finger and then two. With each stretch and stroke, Cherry loosens, his hips moving, swiveling, and stuttering at the familiar sensations.
Cherry reaches back and slaps at Jai's hand. Jai tries to placate him with kisses on his back and shoulders, wanting to calm his throbbing cock and take the prep slow. Cherry doesn't have to wait long for Jai to give in to impulse. Jai's fingers are soon thrusting faster, making loud squelching sounds, asking for more to join. Cherry babbles, it's low enough to hide under the laughter and rattling outside their room but he begs and whimpers and his hands try to grab and squeeze Jai where they can. Jai shifts his weight to move his free hand to find Cherry's palm on the bed. When he does, Cherry moves fast and bites it, latching on to knuckles.
"Rascal." Jai growls. Cherry stutters out an amused sound but bites again.
Jai grunts and his hand moves to Cherry's throat. The reaction is sharp and needy, Cherry's eyes rolling and his mouth parted. They've worked each other up and their heart beats in their cocks. The throb is unrelenting, from their groins to the rest of their bodies. Jai pulls out his fingers, despite the needy protests, and repositions his hips. Jai applies sticky lubricant to his cock and shifts them both to push against Cherry's stretched opening. Cherry comes back to himself at the adjustment.
"Jai." Cherry whines and palms at the hand half-holding his neck.
Jai presses his face closer to comfort. His cock pulses and demands attention. He presses the head to Cherry's hole and lets out a long groan as he pushes in. Cherry breathes erratically, arching with the pressure, hiding his face in the mattress and Jai's body. He's twisted halfway, knees wanting to pull up but not wanting to threaten the position. Jai stays still, waiting for the stretch to give.
Cherry pulls on his cock as pain flares, the dull ache a strange memory that makes him fatter, closer. It still surprises him that the person matters. Cherry had always thought the stretch was just a stretch. The person attached to the cock shouldn't matter but it does. It matters that it's Jai. Cherry squeezes and relaxes and Jai stays still, his hand massaging a hip. Jai focuses on touch. He presses himself and his mouth to Cherry, giving them as many points of contact as he can. Cherry breathes, grabs, and hopes the energy radiating off his body translates to love.
"Okay?" Jai whispers sweetly. Cherry warbles something incoherent and smacks at Jai's thigh. A resounding yes.
Jai starts to thrust. It's slow at first, nearly a torture for Cherry, but picks up to match their heartbeats. Cherry's hand reaches and finds Jai's hair. He holds the tight curls firmly, but not pulling. He wants Jai close, he wants to tell him things, tell him everything.
"I- Jai I missed-" Cherry's sweet words are muffled as Jai thrusts harder.
Their bodies flow together like water, the warm air threatening to turn them into vapor. Jai's arms wrap around Cherry, his hand on his neck never more than a placeholder. The thrusting is strong and insistent but not fucking, not a heavy pattern for digging. Their sex is a current, back and forth and twisting around each other in endless rotations. It's an old vibration between them, the habit of being in love. It doesn't feel any different in the ways they remember. They made love in Lanka just as often as they fucked. Jai can admit it now. It was always like this, always close and cosmic and a joining of the parts of themselves that were alone.
These vines can only flower around your heart. They soften and pulse their way into bloom. Pollen from your lungs, calling for birdsong and sunlight to grow here.
Cherry's breathing is ragged and desperate. His chest heaves, damp from the temperature they foster together. Jai finds Cherry's cock and pulls. Cherry's body goes rigid again, thrusting back on Jai's cock. Jai groans around the pressure but keeps pace. They've forgotten to keep quiet, hoping their canopy of intimacy is enough to hide them. Jai mouths at Cherry's ear to get him to cum and Cherry goes rigid when Jai bites his throat.
Jai pulls back when his orgasm crests. The hot squeeze around his cock is too much and he tries to pump through it. His body finds that point again. That place inside of him where the wall is thin and Cherry's hands can push through. The thread that connects them is tight enough to cut and Jai's body rushes to find it. They cum together, Jai's hand stripping Cherry's cock, his own trapped inside warm silk, pumping at a staccato rhythm until he feels the familiar surge of pleasure. It's a sensation that comes in a burst but stutters back and forth between them. Their nerve endings confuse themselves, unsure of which body is who's. They grip each other tighter and let go of trying to control it.
Jai feels a heat on his hand as Cherry cums in ribbons. The feeling is slick and it triggers Jai to thrust harder. One, two, three pumps, and Jai is cumming too. Each pulse pulls from his body a rush of pleasure and warmth. He tries to pump and coat himself in his slick but Cherry is too tight. Their hips jut in intervals, wringing out every last bit of euphoria and connection. Electric currents pass between them back and forth like sprouting roots. Jai indulges each spark until they fizzle and wilt.
They breathe together. Heavy panting that feels like a third pulse. The in and out of pollen. That mycelium that throbs underground. Jai's hands feel wet skin and soothe in long passes. Cherry's trembling slows and he turns into a closer embrace. It isn't enough to say I love you but they say it anyway. Jai wonders if it will always be like this. If it can be. He wonders why suddenly he has so much happiness, so much feeling. Cherry kisses his swollen lips and damp mustache. Jai stops wondering if he can have this. He already has it.
They lie together until their wet skin starts to itch. They take a cold shower and paw at each other lazily, cool, and flushed with relief. When they crawl into bed and hold each other, it's gentle and peaceful. Until Cherry's expression shifts.
"Is it strange that I like it?" Cherry asks quietly. Jai's brows bunch and he tilts his head.
"Sex?" Jai grunts. Cherry huffs and pinches the nipple his hand rests by. Cherry enjoys the silly sound he earns.
"I thought all gay men liked it." Cherry huffs again. "I thought you fucked me to be nice."
Jai is now properly confused and tries to sit up. He attempts to probe, but Cherry exasperatedly continues.
"I'm gay, so I like-" Cherry starts to fumble his words. "I like what girls like!"
Cherry tries to smack Jai's arms out of embarrassment but it's weak and hits the bed instead. Jai feels a strange kind of sadness. He knew Cherry had little experience but he didn't know the extent of it.
"-But men in Hyderabad didn't want that. They acted like I was strange." Cherry's voice trails off in shame.
Jai rubs a hand down his face, trying to find the right words for this conversation. He knows every man is different, he knows positions in sex don't quantify to gender, but he also knows how stupid some gay men are, and he doesn't want to make Cherry feel stupid.
"You thought I f-fucked you to be nice?" Jai asks, trying to sound gentle.
"I thought we were all the same. I thought we all liked it but just-" Cherry pauses, his face rushing with shame. "-took turns."
Jai lets out a long sigh as he rubs his mustache. It's such a strange divergence from how most people think about sex it causes Jai to pause. Cherry's eyes turn anxious.
"I thought you wanted it too, but you were being nice for me." Cherry speaks like he's pleading, like he's afraid he said something stupid. Jai finds his bearings and stops the spiral.
"Men in the city are afraid." Jai speaks with conviction and judgment. "They make up rules to f-feel better about how much they hate themselves."
Cherry's nose scrunches like he struggles to believe it.
"It makes it hard for us to know what we like." Jai rasps, stroking Cherry's hair.
"Am I strange?" Cherry whispers.
"Yes." Jai laughs. "So am I."
Cherry presses his face against Jai's chest and smiles.
"You don't like it. Do you." Cherry's words are mumbled against skin and hair.
"I didn't say that." Jai deadpans. Cherry's eyes go wide but Jai shifts from the comment teasingly.
"You aren't a girl. I don't fuck girls." Jai's eyes are earnest when he says it. Cherry's suspicion wilts when he decides to accept Jai has a deeper understanding of things like this.
"I like it a lot." Cherry smiles through the whisper and Jai hums.
"I never touched boys in the home but-" Cherry's tongue peaks out to lick his lips. "Sometimes they would fight, roll around and press each other. I wanted it. Wanted to feel pinned down like that."
Cherry's voice turns shy. The confession is a bold one and it tilts the energy between them. If they hadn't just had sex, Jai would be hard again.
"It was just that until I met you. I thought Sanjana would do that, be strong, and boss me around. I thought it wouldn't matter who it was." Cherry's face scrunched at the mention of his entitled employer. Calling her an ex wouldn't be right.
Jai's mind swims with understanding and questions. How wayward had Cherry's path diverted, how confusing it must have been with women, and how explosive it must have felt to find Jai. Jai was aggressive in his flirting and control, he assumed Cherry was young and unsure but to learn Jai was more of an awakening than he thought puts Cherry's acceptance and follow-through into a new perspective. The man he loves is so brave, so stubborn, so much stronger than he knew.
"It was different with you. You made me feel crazy." Cherry's voice pivots to something liquid and low. Jai is surprised to feel Cherry's hand snake to his cock, still soft and a little tender.
"Gundello." Jai breathes. "I don't think-"
Cherry interrupts Jai with a tongue click and starts massaging the muscle with firm pressure. He laughs when Jai starts to thicken out of spite.
"The city men were awful. Not like you." Cherry warms in Jai's pinched expression, the veil of lust returning. Cherry's hand moves to pull instead of stroke and Jai's cock grows fatter.
Jai's mind wars with conflicting concerns. He bounces between a surge of jealousy and rejection at Cherry talking about other men and the heavy heat of arousal and pride at being Cherry's ultimate choice.
"Did you fuck anyone after me?" Cherry speaks close to Jai's ear. Jai can feel hot breath and the whisps of a thin mustache. Jai groans out a no and Cherry picks up speed, tightening his grip.
"Poor man." Jai can feel Cherry smile. "You must be so full."
Jai moans as Cherry's hand starts to twist. He looks down to see the bright head peek through with each pass. Jai can feel his toes curl and his head go hot. His hips thrust up and he faintly notices Cherry's cock poking at his leg.
"Do you remember this?" Cherry's breathing sounds labored. "That first time in the theatre? I wanted you on top of me. I was afraid to hurt you."
Cherry laughs, remembering the arm sling. Jai remembers with him, he thinks of what sex meant to them back then. This feels different. It's softer here, the light low and warm, the bedding their own with sheets that smell like them. Jai's heart beats to those memories but its rhythm is here, in their home. Jai turns to kiss Cherry, those thoughts big and heavy in his chest. The touch of Cherry's tongue floods his body with urgency. His orgasm comes fast and his stuttering hips signal a warning to Cherry. The bed dips and Cherry's hand lets go. It startles Jai as Cherry lifts up and leans over Jai, positioning his hips above Jai's pelvis.
"I wanted to do this." Cherry rasps.
He takes the base of Jai's cock and positions it to press against him. Jai wants to protest but he's going to cum. Cherry moves fast and sinks down, letting the head of Jai's cock fit inside. Only the head. Cherry takes Jai easily, still stretched enough for it to be comfortable. Still wet. Cherry strokes the length of Jai that isn't inside of him and Jai cums just as hard as he did earlier.
Cherry sighs when he feels Jai throb. In follows the same heat. He watches Jai whimper and shake under him and he keeps himself still, milking Jai for as much as he can. Jai grabs at Cherry's hips through the orgasm and Cherry lets go of Jai, hurrying to stroke himself before he softens. It's a wild and erotic thing to watch. Cherry desperate to cum with Jai still inside of him, Jai's cum warming the both of them. Jai's palm moves to Cherry's balls and cups them and Cherry whines, hot fluid bouncing out of his cock to land on Jai's chest.
Cherry flops forward, slumping to lie on top of Jai's bigger body. He can feel cum and chest hair mix together but doesn't move. Jai laughs when he feels himself slip out and swats at Cherry's bottom.
Jai thinks about how useless it might be to worry about Cherry and sex, and cruel men. His insatiable appetite and wild impulses are almost too much for Jai. Almost.
The room is finally quiet. They whisper a few sweet things but favor silence and rest, letting the last rumblings of the party outside serenade them to sleep.
Jai dodges amused looks from his brothers in the morning. He's assured they would be the only ones to guess how he spent the night, the rest of the guests too drunk or naive to suspect. Luckily they are discrete enough not to mention anything and only hand Jai his breakfast and some mail.
"I can't read anything today." Lava moans rubbing at his temple over uneaten food. Kusa laughs and teases him, eating his food obnoxiously while Chitti sleeps nearby.
Jai can't hear their squabbling as he tears open the packet sent from Munna. His friend was right, it's only basic information on government certificates. Cherry's birth record, his arrest, a few medical records with nothing important, and his parent's marriage license. Regardless, Jai combs each document carefully. He feels a pang of regret, knowing he will have to tell Cherry there is nothing left to tell. He moves to put each slip back into the envelope when something on the marriage certificate stops him.
Everything is where it should be, the date, the hospital, Cherry's father, and Cherry's mother. Except, something looks familiar. He re-reads the names, he re-reads Cherry's mother's name. It's a name that makes his mind and body freeze, unsure how to process or understand the letters laid out.
Cherry's mother's name. Her maiden name. Her family name before marrying Cherry's father.
Chelluboina
Chapter 23: Nijālu
Summary:
Be careful, the world is full of unpleasant truths.
Chapter Text
Today is a bad day.
Jai has been dead for four years. Hollow years that feel unreal to Cherry. Years that pass through, lost and thin, intercepted only by sorrow and detachment.
Cherry struggles to remember Jai’s face. The earnest curves and lines, the piercing shape of his eyes. His features are fuzzy now, unclear and nearly forgotten. Can memories become ghosts so easily? Where does all of this lost energy go? Love and adoration, the ache. Does it stay here when someone dies, or does it trail behind, infecting the remains of its impact with grief?
Jai’s death wasn’t easy to accept. Cherry had returned to the abandoned haveli years ago, searching desperately for the little photos hidden in his old room, hoping to find Jai among them. But Lanka had burned, leaving behind a wooden skeleton and pitch ash.
Cherry misses Jai now, four years to the day. The day Munna found him in an underground canteen and crushed his heart with three words.
Raavan is dead.
Cherry had been foolish. He had thought he and Jai would find each other again. That Jai would come searching for him in Hyderabad and beg for Cherry’s forgiveness. If that never happened, Cherry had thought he would be the one to give in, to crawl back to Jai, shamefully desperate. But neither ever happened. Jai found his long-lost brothers instead, and it got him killed.
So, Cherry is alone, living in the city. He has his small flat, his new restaurant with Ravindar, and fading memories of the only man he’s ever loved. Most days are endurable. Some are even happy. Cherry has his friends and his Thatha. He works hard and loves the family he made for himself. But he is still alone.
There are bad days. Terrible days. Days when the ground reaches up and swallows all of Cherry’s strength, all of his hope. The different tactics he’s used in the past to endure become useless, worthless performances. Cherry is left stripped and empty, faced with an unbearable emptiness. A malevolent void in the space where Jai used to fit. It’s shaped like him. It invites a bitter ache, one that leaves Cherry moored, unable to let go of the love he’s lost, of the evisceration of his heart.
Today is a bad day.
Another day in the year to mourn. To join the collection of dated ill omens, the scheduled sufferings, cold and tactless. It joins the day he watched his parents die. The day he killed Srinivasa. The day Jai broke his heart. And the day the love of his life died.
Jai wasn’t alone in the end. Cherry was there. They both died that day. Cherry’s body just refuses to follow. Tethered to memories, white smoke rising over Jai’s burning corpse. Once a part of him, now burning with him.
Cherry is thinner now. The men he sleeps with always comment on it. Some like it. They like him small. Some men tease him, offering him meals that they never deliver. Most of them don’t look at him at all. Most of them want him to turn around and stay quiet. They know he has nothing inside of him and wonder if they could fit there instead. Use his concave soul for an hour and ignore the insistent cadence of his grief.
Cherry doesn’t know why he keeps taking selfish men home. Why he lets them be cruel or flippant with his body. He wonders if Jai is watching him, if he sees this. Or if he’s already reborn, growing away from Cherry, aging on a new timeline, mismatched with the one he left behind. Rishi is the only one who keeps Cherry from tearing away. From ripping himself off this coil to join Jai, violent and broken. To ensure they synchronize and meet again.
This day may win over Rishi’s love. This day a strange man pushes into him, and it hurts. It always hurts, in his chest, in the small and imperceptible place his love for Jai still lives. But today it hurts everywhere else. Cherry wants to push the man away, to be alone again. But he doesn’t. The pain soaks in and banishes loss, covering sorrow like a thin bandage. It rectifies the emptiness. It keeps him here, keeps him saddled to suffering. Keeps him alive.
When the man finally leaves, Cherry will be alone again. Left with the unwavering void of Jai’s memory. It’s a punishment he can’t bear. Cherry begs the man to stay, to continue his violent occupation. To keep hurting him. But the man leaves. He wanders from perdition to obscurity, apathetic to the rot he leaves behind.
Today is a bad day.
Cherry wails when he wakes, jolting Jai next to him. He is in their room, in the bed they share their love in. It should comfort him, bring him back into the fold of safety, but it doesn’t. The nightmare remains on the fringes of Cherry’s nervous system. It bonds shadows with movement and diffusion, leaving dark blotches on his memory. Cherry’s heart hammers against his ribs, and he feels grief continue to rush through his body. Jai pushes to hold Cherry, a misaligned affirmation that confuses him. Jai is dead.
“Nanna, nanna, shh.” Jai’s voice is a sleepy rasp, textured with concern and fatigue.
Cherry accepts the embrace despite the complex of conflicting realities. He clutches at Jai, his terrified mind trying to process the illusion of Hyderabad against the reality of their soft room and warm bed. He can feel Jai’s skin and hear his heartbeat if he presses close. The room smells like him. It smells like them both. It’s the feeling of warm skin and coarse body hair that convinces Cherry to have hope. Jai is alive. Jai is here.
“Was it the r-rock again?” Jai asks, clearing his throat. His hands rub at Cherry’s trembling arms and back, reassuring him with deep hums.
Cherry sobs, the images of Srinivasa’s sunken skull muddling with the anguish of Jai’s death. Cherry doesn’t answer, and Jai takes his silence as instruction. He hums and rolls Cherry, pressing his body flat to the mattress, holding him still. Cherry burrows down, hiding his face and limbs against Jai to digest this reality. Jai’s hands find him, but they don’t caress or comfort. One hand presses against Chery’s right shoulder while the other presses at his back on the left. They push against each other, like two plates of an iron griddle. It’s a sudden and new sensation, a deep pressure. The push and pull work together to root Cherry’s body in place. Jai’s hold is still. It feels like a restraint, solid and strong. Grounding. Like being locked to earth, like gravity. It reminds Cherry how strong Jai is, how protective. Jai is alive.
Jai senses Cherry’s deflation and moves into a slow embrace. They wrap their arms around each other, eager to press closer. Cherry’s ear finds Jai’s chest, and listens again for his heartbeat.
“Can you feel me?” Jai whispers, his voice low and steady. Cherry squeezes the thin vest straps on Jai’s back in response.
Jai doesn’t tell Cherry to breathe, but he inhales slowly, pointing the movement toward his terrified lover. Cherry hears it and breathes in shakily, letting the exhale press against Jai’s skin, insulating their heat.
“You died.” Cherry’s voice is paper-thin, torn from screaming.
Jai disagrees, humming reassurances in Cherry’s ear. Cherry tries to absorb them, but his turmoil has doubts. He describes the dream in detail, and Jai’s chest rumbles to dissuade it.
“What if this is the dream?” Cherry asks, muffled against fabric and the smell of skin. “What if I wake up and you’re still dead?”
“Do you remember yesterday?” Jai asks softly, his palm running over Cherry’s hair.
Cherry thinks. He does remember. He remembers visiting Dharani and meeting Vennela. He remembers Suri chasing the triplets around the garden and giving them the sweets Cherry had brought. They were happy and invited Cherry into a warmth that lingers inside of him. He remembers that.
He also remembers what came after, coming home to find Jai with a letter and an anxious expression. Cherry remembers reading his birth record, reading his mother’s family name. He remembers how his heart froze, and he remembers the torrent of emotions that threatened to break it. Cherry whimpers and pulls himself back to Jai’s touch. He pushes those memories somewhere safe, pushes them behind to be felt later, understood, and mourned in daylight.
Cherry focuses on Dharani’s triplets, their light and happy laughter, and the warm sun they played under. He remembers affection, loving looks passed between Vennela and the men she lives with. This reality has those things. This reality is a small village with chickens and the bed he shares with Jai. Jai is alive. Cherry’s anxiety settles, and he responds to Jai’s question with a sniff, holding Jai a little looser.
“If you dream again. Try to th-think. Do you remember yesterday? If not, then it is a dream.” Jai explains and kisses the top of Cherry’s head.
Cherry lets out a rattling exhale and kisses at Jai’s chest. His hands can feel Jai’s skin again. He pulls at Jai’s top to access more. He peppers kisses anywhere his lips can reach and tastes salt.
Cherry remembers yesterday and all the other days before it. He remembers little things, like meals and jokes. He remembers different people and different conversations, the smell of new flowers, and the wet heat of a village sun. He remembers this room, under the reflection of rain, under sunbeams and clouds of shower steam. Cherry remembers finding Jai here in Rangasthalam. He remembers pale pebbles in the road and Chitti’s boat and the animated crack of his palm on Jai’s cheek.
Cherry huffs a laugh and sniffs away warm tears. Those memories are good. They are a part of him. He didn’t have memories like that during the nightmare, only singular thoughts and truths, like they were being told to him rather than recalled. He recalls how small the world felt too, the absence of a sky within the muffled enclosure of his mind. It was a dream. He isn’t in Hyderabad. This is Rangasthalam.
As if to solidify that truth, Jai and Cherry hear a soft knock at the bedroom door.
“Annaya?” Lava whispers against wood. Jai clears his throat and responds.
“It’s fine.” Jai calls to the door. Cherry hides in Jai’s body, quiet and flushed with embarrassment. Their walls are thin, and Cherry continues to be a strange intrusion on Lava’s life. He’s unsure how to unpack their tenuous relationship, not knowing if Jai even concerns himself with how Lava feels about Cherry. Jai’s younger brother seems to linger at the door, apprehension breathing through the old wood. Cherry’s shame intensifies when he remembers overhearing Lava ask Jai about his nightmares. He continues to hide himself, and Jai grunts again, hoping the noise is convincing. They both relax when they hear the soft patter of Lava’s feet as he returns to his room. Jai interrupts the silence and continues to soothe Cherry with his hands and voice.
“I’m here.” Jai whispers.
Cherry’s breathing evens, and the body heat he shares with Jai expands. It becomes uncomfortable enough for Cherry to pull away and lie flat, making Jai chuckle. Cherry lets the cool air soothe him for a moment before tugging at his underwear and bending his knees to slip them off. Jai inches closer and watches with curiosity. Cherry takes Jai’s hand and presses it between his thighs, sighing at the contact.
Cherry wants to admonish himself, but his desires won’t allow it. Jai’s body is strong when it’s comforting. It’s wide and inviting, and Cherry latches to it on instinct. Every part of him is affected. His mind, his heart, and his body. Jai makes him feel safe, and that liberates an ease, a swelling. Cherry puts pressure on Jai’s hand, letting thick fingers map the rigid shape under his palm. Jai understands Cherry’s need for touch, for reassurance deeper than words and a hug. He knows Cherry.
“Yeah?” Jai asks, his voice thick with desire.
“Yeah.” Cherry breathes, and his cock throbs.
Jai laughs to himself, his smile wide and his arousal growing. He pulls and pets at Cherry and hums when Cherry whimpers, pushing into his warm palm. Jai moves again, and his lips find Cherry’s neck, moving south to mouth at one of Cherry’s nipples. He chuckles again when Cherry bends his knees and lifts his legs, wanting to give Jai more room, wanting to move Jai’s hand lower.
Jai makes an aggressive noise. It’s sensual and demanding. He shifts up, his mouth in search of Cherry’s lips. The kiss is a familiar caress, a balance of love and passion that pulsates with each pass. Jai’s tongue says, I love you. I am here. Cherry’s mouth laps at Jai’s tenderness like water in a drought. He’s reminded of every part of Jai, every part of their story. The reality of the nightmare dissolves, floating freely, like sunlight and dust. Each new kiss solidifies a promise Jai continues to make. I’m here.
Cherry becomes demanding. Insistent in his desires. Jai pulls from Cherry’s mouth and moves, readjusting their position to gain leverage on Cherry’s cock. Cherry licks his lips, letting himself be handled. He wants more gravity, more pressure to lock down and feel the bed under his body. Jai’s hand understands and pushes lower, behind Cherry’s cock. His fingers find sensitive skin, bunched and textured with coarse hair.
Jai breathes in deeply, his muscles going lax, his fingers tease and push, pulling heavy sighs from his lover. It’s too dry, too tight. Jai pulls away, against Cherry’s protests, and grabs their pot of lubricant from its drawer. When he returns to Cherry, his fingers are slick and eager.
Cherry’s mouth occupies itself with Jai’s neck, laving his tongue over the short stubble at Jai’s jawline. Jai’s wet fingers play with Cherry’s cock first, knowing it’s unnecessary. The muscle is fat with blood and stiff, twitching with each touch. Jai’s mouth waters, imagining its color in the dark. He pulls on it and huffs a laugh, feeling it sway, engorged and demanding in the open air.
Cherry whimpers at being teased. He’s sensitive to each caress, and his hips follow Jai’s wandering hand. Jai pulls on Cherry’s foreskin once before abandoning his cock to play lower. Fingertips find a crease, warm and now wet with slick. Textured skin softens under Jai’s attention. It’s a slow massage at first. Jai takes his time teasing, trying to relax the ring of muscle on the surface. Cherry whimpers, finding his cock and pulling impatiently. He tries to keep an innocuous pace, knowing Jai will stop him if he’s too eager.
Jai rewards Cherry’s resolve, breaching his middle finger inside and moving to bite at Cherry’s belly. The sensuality of the act stimulates a moan from Cherry, something too loud for their sleeping neighbors. Cherry tries to muffle it, to clamp his mouth shut and hum. It doesn’t come from pleasure alone. The physical sensation is initially uncomfortable and strange. An intrusion he’s never quite prepared for. But that in itself has become familiar, encouraging a preemptive arousal for the stimulation to come. Cherry follows the expectation. He braces and clenches, grabbing at Jai’s finger with his body. When he goes lax, Jai pushes in deeper, knowing how Cherry’s body acclimates. Knowing when to thrust and pull.
Jai’s hand keeps a pace, even and deep. His own sounds join Cherry’s, harmonizing with grunts and hums. Cherry remembers the hotel in New Delhi, the first time Jai’s fingers found themselves inside his body. The memory is wild and demanding on his already insistent arousal. Cherry’s hips push down, wanting more. Another finger folds into Cherry, and the small man whimpers, the uncomfortable stretch transitioning into the ache he remembers. Eventually there’s a dull throb, a magnet for fingertips to find. Jai pushes. The pressure leads, and Cherry confirms with a noise. They map the inside of Cherry’s body together, reacquainted with sensitivity, rubbing and pushing to make Cherry’s body convulse.
Cherry’s knees bend to plant his feet on the bed, wanting more leverage to twist his hips. His hand grips the base of his cock, and Jai adds another finger, thrusting harder now, insistent on unraveling Cherry’s resolve. The dim light in the room expands somehow, making lines and shapes clearer. It adds to the swelling sensation behind Cherry’s cock. The balloon that will engorge itself and eventually pop. Cherry’s pelvis rotates. Up and down and back and forth, fucking himself on Jai’s fingers, threatening that bundle confidently.
“Jai, Jai, I want—” Cherry tries to move Jai, to pull his hand out and grab for his cock, but Jai resists and continues his assault. They make filthy noises in the dark. Slick sounds of wet skin and stretched muscle.
“Fuck me.” Cherry breathes, low and desperate. Jai scoffs.
“I am. Can’t you feel me?” Jai teases and flexes his fingers with the next thrust. Cherry tries to control the sound he makes, breathing through his nose.
“I am fucking you.” Jai argues. “You can remember this tomorrow. When it aches, when you want me to fuck you again.”
Cherry lets out a warble, and his hand comes up to cover his mouth. He remembers Lava’s previous interruption. He remembers Chitti and Kusa sleeping downstairs and flushes with shame. Cherry’s hand squeezes tight around his cheeks while his other hand stays on Jai’s body, mapping and exploring. Jai moves his free hand and grabs at Cherry’s, clutching it tight. Their fingers fold in a strong grasp, and Jai brings it close to his heart.
“I’m here. Feel me.” Jai lets go of Cherry’s hand to let it explore and replaces the one on his mouth with his own, pressing down to keep Cherry quiet. Cherry’s eyes widen dramatically, and his hands move to touch Jai again, rubbing at skin and body hair, moving frantically as Jai’s fingers continue to fuck him.
Jai’s muscles are tight, engaged, and focused, powerful with each thrust. Cherry’s felt these planes a hundred times, and each time it exhilarates him. Jai is strong. Cherry reminds himself. A repetitive mantra that continues to ground him. Continues to build the swell of desire. Cherry can see Jai’s own cock, hanging angry and heavy between his legs. He moans, recognizing that Jai’s thoughts are parallel to his. I do this to him. My body. Me.
Cherry’s hips start to shake and thrust on impulse. Jai fucks him with three fingers now, hammering his prostate and stretching him on each pull. Cherry’s cock, now untouched, points rigid and demanding at Jai, wanting attention, dripping sticky peals of fluid. Jai smiles wolfishly, shifting his body to get closer. His mouth finds Cherry’s cock easily and sinks down, tasting salt and brine. The room smells like Cherry, a musk that belongs to him, that’s strongest between his legs. Jai growls, and Cherry wails into Jai’s hand, overwhelmed by the vibration against heat and velvet.
The balloon pops. Cherry trembles against a wet mouth, and Jai’s hand speeds up. He thrusts wildly, his fingers unrelenting against the pulsating bud they find. Cherry’s orgasm is fast and profuse. It builds like gunpowder up his spine and implodes. An invisible warm tongue laps at his body. From thighs to nipples, the sensations crest in waves. They’re hot and silky, and his cock throbs at each rush. They elicit a plea, warbled and high, still muffled by Jai’s palm.
Cherry’s hips shake but continue to tilt up, fucking himself from back to front. Jai gags once, the sound obscene and intimate. Cherry wars with the conflicting sensations of tight stimulation and fervent guilt. His orgasm makes him greedy, demanding more of Jai’s mouth. Jai only grunts and keeps focus. He swallows when the thick saliva from the back of his throat meets the first thread of cum. The sharp taste is drawn back, pushed around Cherry’s cock, and swallowed. Jai drinks, milking his lover, torturing him with fluttering muscles and a refusal to let go. It makes Cherry squirm, convulsing on the last drops, overstimulated with each thrust.
Jai removes his hand from Cherry’s mouth and sits up, releasing Cherry’s body to slump into the bedding. Cherry deflates, panting loudly, with a wondrous expression. His body turns to warm wax, smooth and malleable. His nipples feel sensitive to the air, his skin damp and temperate. Cherry watches as Jai moves over him, looming with arousal and impatience. He tugs his vest over his head haphazardly, showing Cherry his broad chest, thick with hair. Jai licks his lips and admires Cherry’s fucked-out form, stretched and soft. His cock hangs angry and heavy between his legs, pointing at Cherry, choosing the tight space it wants to fit into. Jai lifts Cherry’s thighs easily and takes his own cock in hand. He slicks his cock with more lubricant and pushes the head to Cherry’s lax opening.
“Yeah.” Cherry whispers, his voice hoarse and mouth wet. “Yes, Pedda.”
Jai’s belly twitches and his cock throbs. He lets his eyes slip closed and pushes in slowly. The way is still tight but softens at Jai’s insistence. Cherry groans, his spine twisting to the larger intrusion. Jai drops to hover over Cherry like a blanket, possessive and jealous. He makes sounds like an animal, deep and low in his chest. His cock fits in easily, the glide smooth and wet. Jai’s thick cock throbs against trembling thighs, needing only a few slick thrusts. He looks down to watch his cock disappear slowly, engrossed in how Cherry’s body accommodates him. Blood rushes from his head to that point of contact fast enough to make him dizzy.
“Pandu.” Jai breathes, thrusting through the orgasm behind his pelvis. His cock pulses, and he can feel his cum fill Cherry’s tight body. It threatens to spill out when he thrusts again, dragging out filthy impulses and guttural sounds. Waves stutter under his skin, crashing in torrents. They surge from the fat middle of his cock to the base of his spine and then back to his cock. Ripples find his limbs, dewy droplets of euphoria unwilling to leave his bloodstream. When they do, Jai sags and holds Cherry’s body tightly, trembling, trying to get his bearings.
“Chandu.” Cherry squeaks, his voice hoarse. Jai hums, realizing he’s squeezing Cherry’s thighs too tightly. He lets go and tries to move to a more comfortable position, slumping into his side of the bed.
When Jai pulls out, thick cum follows. Cherry can feel the warm spill and hums, wanting to stuff it back inside himself. Possessive in his own right. They both laugh when they find each other, happy and glowing. Cherry slaps at Jai’s chest playfully and tugs on a nipple ring.
Jai takes the reprieve to clean their sticky bodies. He finds a wet rag in the washroom and returns to his sated lover. Cherry sighs when Jai tends to his more sensitive areas and is sweetly rough with himself. When he finishes, he draws at the standing metal fan and switches it on to cool their hot skin. Cherry makes a pleased sound, stretching and curling under cool sheets.
“No more nightmares.” Jai whispers and flops down into the bed, pressing kisses to Cherry’s flushed cheek.
Cherry knows it won’t be that easy. He’s had these terrible dreams since he can remember. It used to make him feel lonely, surrendered to miserable nights. He reaches for Jai to comfort himself, curling around his thicker body softly.
“What if I disappear?” Cherry asks. It startles him, an unexpected fear suddenly needing to be known.
“Where will you go?” Jai asks, confused. Cherry doesn’t explain. He can’t. It’s not a fear he fully understands.
What part of me exists? What part of me did I choose to be? With nothing behind me, what will I be when I lose everything I have now?
“I will go there too.” Jai sighs. Cherry’s hold tightens, a wave of emotion crashing over him.
“Was it because of y-yesterday?” Jai asks gently.
Cherry lets out a long sigh and curls tighter against Jai. He doesn’t want to think about that part of yesterday. More heartbreaking truths about all the things that aren’t inside of him. Chelluboina. You have family here in Rangasthalam. Chitti is your cousin.
“They don’t know me.” Cherry’s voice wavers, afraid. “They never came for me at the home.”
Jai hums. His hand squeezes Cherry’s again.
“We can throw it out and never tell them. But, Chinnu, they may not have known.”
Cherry’s chest burns. He is afraid of this, afraid that it could break what they’ve built here. Cherry was telling the truth when he told Jai losing their families may have been a blessing. Cherry has never met a gay man whose family approved of him or accepted the man he loved. Do Chitti’s parents know about their youngest son? Or the strangeness between their eldest and Lava? Would Cherry’s homecoming destroy everything they all have? Will he really be their family if he keeps this part of himself secret?
Cherry wonders if this is the tipping point, if this will bring the end of his fleeting happiness.
“Stop. No more nightmares tonight.” Jai whispers and gives Cherry permission to sleep.
Jai finds Kumar easily. He’s campaigning on the east side of the village, speaking with the farmers who live on the edge of the community. It’s a smart strategy, focusing on families who aren’t as easily influenced by The Society, if only because they live too far away to ever interact.
Jai waits patiently for Kumar to finish. He leans against a wooden fence that was most likely built before he was born and watches Chitti’s brother rally the disenfranchised. Kumar speaks confidently to a dozen or so men, eager to follow his lead. He looks like a model politician, kind and soft-spoken, glowing with celestial righteousness. Eventually Kumar finishes and finds Jai in the road, waiting for him.
“I need your help.” Jai chews at the inside of his cheek, looking around. Kumar agrees awkwardly and joins him.
They walk together as the men start to disperse behind them. When they get far enough away from anyone who could hear them, Jai takes out Cherry’s birth record and reveals it gently. Folded within the slip of paper is Cherry’s photo with his parents, faded and soft. Jai hands over the slips and points to Cherry’s mother.
“D-Do you know this woman?” Jai asks, realizing he has to look up at Kumar to speak to him.
Kumar studies the photo, confused, but soon recognition dawns and his body turns to Jai.
“My aunt.” Kumar explains, wondering how Jai has this photo, untrusting of his motives. “My father’s younger sister.”
Jai lets out a heavy sigh and rubs at his beard. Kumar looks at the photo again, and his confusion deepens.
“But she died when I was young.” Kumar finishes and stops walking, glancing out to the river on the horizon. Kumar remembers the funeral, his mother’s words about his responsibilities, and his Atta’s face, grey and deflated.
“Why? Why do you have this?” Kumar turns back to Jai, his tone accusatory, suddenly protective of his family. Jai huffs through his nose and pulls on Cherry’s birth record, still in Kumar’s hands. He points to Cherry’s name and reminds Kumar of Chitti’s new friend, the new villager, the young man who now lives with Lava and his brothers.
Kumar’s face falls again as he connects the details in his mind. He studies the small boy in the photo, and something inside him twists. It’s impossible. It must be a lie. Kumar looks to Jai with wide eyes and a building frustration.
“No.” Kumar responds. “He died.”
Lava sits in his room alone. The house is quiet for once. Chitti is with his family, and Kusa is helping gather supplies from villagers for their upcoming performance. Lava is meant to collect what he can at their home and begin the process of taking inventory. Lava was insistent on keeping records for the storage space, grateful that Kumar had helped them acquire it. Before the party, before their awkward encounter, before Kumar broke his heart.
Lava did find a few useful things, old things taken from himself and offered by Jai. One item is special, taken from the back of his closet, a memento from his childhood. He admires it now, thin and soft with age. The memories it brings are difficult and strange. They aren’t painful on their own, but they make strange threats. Memories that challenge Lava’s choices and the adult he has become.
Jai had explained to Lava that he had taken their porcelain figurines from his mother’s belongings after her death and hidden them. He had packed them with him before the fire, and they traveled with him through the years, ending up on a small altar in Rangasthalam. Lava’s item followed a similar path. Not having the time to plan or pack before the fire, Lava had nothing with him when he was rushed to the hospital. He was lucky his adoptive father had gathered a few things from the ashes, Lava’s drawstring pack being one of them. It feels karmic that it was the one thing he would have taken himself. In it, Lava had stashed his mother’s favorite saree, green with gold trim and vibrant when she wore it. It is even stranger that it is the saree in the photo Jai gave them.
This item is his, kept close and hidden his entire life. It’s a secret Lava is apprehensive to reveal. Lava thought his brothers were dead, and this item served as a morbid reminder. It feels strange to share it with them now. To let go of its significance for a local performance feels wrong. Lava remembers the many different things he and his brothers had to sacrifice to the stage, and it’s one of the few moments he feels negatively toward his uncle. Lava’s memories have changed, grown. He’s spoken to his brothers about their sufferings and how differently Mama’s actions affected them. It would feel like a betrayal to give this last part of their broken past away.
It isn’t just childhood wounds attached to the saree. The saree offers a new revelation, one Lava hadn’t considered before. One surfaced after everything he’s endured since Lanka. Lava had often dreamed of giving the beautiful covering to a woman he loved, to Priya. Perhaps she could wear it to celebrate their love, a ritual preceding their marriage, or photos for the announcement. Instead, it sits in an old box, untouched and unloved.
Lava muses on his failures. His aggressive approach to the love he felt for Priya, and then the same mistake with Kumar. It’s embarrassing. He’s been so foolish. First his mistake at the bank, then his fumbled attempts to heal his relationships with his brothers, both in Lanka and here. Lava has come to accept that he gives too much of himself. He lets his heart hang too heavy, vulnerable, and open for anyone to crush if only they want to.
The truth, the true ache, is this saree isn’t his. He hasn’t earned it. Lava knows this isn’t his decision. It was her saree, not his, and her memory belongs to all of them now. Lava will show the item to his brothers, and if they agree, lend it to their Maa Sita. Its finery and simplicity will glow under stage light, where it’s always been in Lava’s heart. It will lend them a new memory, something healing.
Lava will do the same with his heart. He will protect it, keep it safe, and reveal it only to the people who love him.
“It was a mistake.” Kumar whispers. “But it wouldn’t be right to keep it from you.”
Padma takes in a breath, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She sits rigidly next to Kumar, keeping a modest distance from her fiancé.
“Does anyone else know?” Padma’s voice is soft, fighting to stay steady.
Kumar knows the woman next to him well. Her open mind and forgiving heart won’t recoil from him, but he needs to be delicate with her. Part of his love for Padma is rooted in how well she understands the nuances of people. She trusts them, and she trusts the man she loves. Kumar tested that trust. He kissed a man, betraying that trust and putting her virtue in danger.
Kumar sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know. His brother’s, maybe. Chitti?”
Padma stands quickly, walking away from their tree, from the gentle spot they’ve met at for months. A spot that was special to Padma, now soured by Kumar’s secret.
“It was an impulse.” Kumar argues, standing to follow Padma. “It’s not what I want.”
Padma turns with sadness in her eyes. “It isn’t?” There is an accusation in her question, lingering fears. “Do you want a wife at all? Do you have impulses for women at all?”
“Yes.” It’s the truth. Kumar has always felt a strong pull to both men and women. It frustrated him when he was young, but he came to accept his strangeness, knowing he could eventually find a wife and be happy. His eventual arousal around Padma helped solidify that option.
Kumar takes Padma’s hand in his gently. “Yes.” He repeats.
“We are not married.” Padma consoles herself, trying to compartmentalize the betrayal. “Will it happen again?”
“No. I will be a faithful husband. I vow it.” Kumar’s voice is strong, trying to prove to Padma that he means it.
“I have another suitor.” Padma clips. “A man my father chose for me. I want to marry a man who loves me, or at least, who desires me. My companionship, my mind, and my body.”
Kumar sways his head tightly, swallowing, keeping Padma’s hand in a firm hold.
“If that isn’t you, don’t lock me into a miserable marriage.” Padma pulls her hand away swiftly, her features hardening. “Is that you, Kumar?”
Kumar swallows tightly, remembering the kiss with Lava, remembering the ache of letting go. He recalls his kisses with Padma, sweet but idle. He remembers his father’s disappointment in Chitti and his mother’s tears.
“Yes.”
The walk up to the Chelluboina home looks five km long. Cherry stands behind the front gate and wrings his hands. The sun is high above, and Jai is with him, a pillar of support.
“They won’t like me.” Cherry whispers to himself.
You’re a criminal. Weak and small. You let your parents die that night. You crawl into men’s beds and have filthy nightmares. They won’t want you.
Jai’s hand pushes firmly against the muscles in Cherry’s back to interrupt his spiraling thoughts.
“They already d-do. Everyone in the village likes you.” Jai says and moves his fingers affectionately against anxious muscles.
Cherry’s strength threatens to break, emotions rising and falling like waves, terrified of what’s beyond this home’s threshold.
“I’m here.” Jai whispers and pulls away, giving Cherry space to unlock the gate and step into the yard.
Cherry takes a few steps towards the home when Chitti springs out from it, smiling happily. He meets Cherry in the yard, taking his arm playfully and leading him inside. They stop at the doorway. Chitti’s family stands near the entrance, huddled together and whispering. Chitti barks a greeting, and his mother startles, jumping to meet the two young men. Kanthamma rushes forward to stop Cherry, wanting to offer blessings before he steps over the threshold.
Kanthamma smiles happily, her eyes wet and cheeks flushed. The rest of the family greets them with quivering smiles. Even Chinni looks filled with joy, sharing in the domestic bliss. Kanthamma presses her hand to Chitti’s arm to chastise his brazen excitement. The engineer smiles sideways and joins his mother over Agni, offering the welcoming flame to his younger cousin.
Kanthamma sniffs away her tears and presses kumkum between Cherry’s eyes. It’s swift and sweet, and Cherry has to restrain himself from folding under the emotions that flood his heart. Chitti’s nose scrunches when his mother pecks her thumb on his forehead, upset he had escaped her attentive blessing when she delivered kumkum to the rest of the family.
“I spoke with them.” Chitti explains, and his father moves to join them, swaying his head happily. Koteswar. Cherry remembers his name, mentioned once by the elders in the village.
Kumar stands respectfully near his parents with Chinni tucked under his arms. Cherry can only assume Jai’s conversation with Kumar made its way to Chitti, easing the situation for everyone. Their clear response of elation settles Cherry’s nerves but threatens heavy tears instead. Everyone lets out a laugh, breaking the tension, embarrassed at the emotional expectations they share. It relieves some of the pressure, and Cherry walks in softly, clutching his photo and birth record to his chest.
“Here.” Kumar kindly points to a set of cushions, and the family sits together. Jai joins them quietly, and Cherry motions towards him.
“My—Annaya.” Cherry explains with an invisible wince. “We met when we were children.”
The family accepts the awkward introduction and smiles. Cherry ignores Chitti’s smirk and Kumar’s suspicious expression. Kanthamma tries to offer them both a drink, her movements animated and happy. Cherry sways his head respectfully and instead hands out his certificate and photo. The transfer is awkward at first, like some strange proof of citizenship. Koteswar’s lip wobbles when he takes the slip and shakily pulls out his spectacles to read. The Chelluboinas huddle over the document together, reading swiftly but taking space to let it soak in. Kanthamma looks up first, happiness stretched thickly over her face.
“You look just like her.” Kanthamma whispers, her eyes glistening with joy. “Like, my Chitti.”
Chitti smiles wide and draws a finger under his mustache. Cherry laughs, his eyes wet and sparkling.
“You do!” Kanthamma explains. “We were so happy when you were born. The both of you.”
Kanthamma turns to Chitti and puts a hand to his beard. “You both looked like your grandmother.”
Chitti makes a happy sound and moves to stand. He tugs at Cherry and pulls him toward a wall of framed photographs, draped with garlands. Kumar and his mother protest his renewed excitement, but Cherry follows eagerly. He can feel Jai’s hand leave his arm but knows the man is staying close. Chitti points to the largest photograph on the wall, their matriarch.
“Nannamma.” Chitti explains. Cherry sees the resemblance, and it’s startling. He looks to Chitti and then touches his nose unconsciously. They do look like her. Soft features and dark almond eyes. I look like my grandmother. Cherry watches as the rest of the family joins them, mumbling sweet affections.
“My Amma.” Koteswar says and wipes at his sniffling nose with his scarf. “She died before you were born.”
Koteswar moves closer to the wall and motions toward a smaller photo under Nannamma. This photo sits on the small table with offerings and diyas. It isn’t framed and is faded yellow from age. Koteswar plucks the photo and shows it to Cherry. Chitti intercepts, moving his finger over the figures that stand patiently in the photo, shrouded in the pebbled shadows of tree leaves.
Cherry counts three children in a dry garden that looks like Rangasthalam. The sun is bright enough to force them all to squint, but they smile at the camera, happy to pose for their elders.
“Kumar.” Chitti points to the tall, thin child on the right, then to the shorter child who stands next to him.
“Me!” Chitti laughs at his younger self, knobby-kneed with a front tooth missing. He then points to the youngest child, a toddler that Chitti holds in his arms. The baby is round with fat and held strangely by his older cousin, like how a child holds a doll or a pet.
“You.” Chitti whispers, tracing the worn outline of Cherry’s cheeks. Cherry laughs as emotion rushes through him, warm tears tumbling down his cheeks. The rest of the family pushes closer to the altar, offering silent blessings to their reunion.
“You died.” Kanthamma blurts, interrupting the moment. When the family turns to her, they find frustration and confusion. She rushes away without explanation, and her family follows. When she returns, she carries a worn shoebox, frayed and creased. She opens it and rifles through it quickly.
“They took your body! They wouldn’t let us mourn you—they—” Kanthamma rambles, flipping through papers and photographs. Koteswar puts a hand to his wife’s shoulder and looks at Cherry.
“My parents didn’t approve of the marriage. Your father was—” Koteswar swallows, his face blanching. “Adivasi.”
Cherry’s face colors at the silent tension between them. He’s reminded of his complexion and shrinks. Jai’s hand finds Cherry’s elbow and rubs.
“We were told you had died with your parents. They sent us your mother, but your father’s village demanded his body.” Koteswar wrings his hands, trying to explain the conflict. “Their rituals are different. Because you were his eldest and only son, they demanded you too.”
Cherry’s face pinches. It doesn’t make sense.
“I saw her grave. I-I’m here.” Cherry argues.
“Grave?” Koteswar’s brows pinch. “N-No. I poured—your mother is in the Godavari.”
“But he told me—” Cherry’s shoulders rise, a wash of confusion and anger coloring his features. He remembers visiting his mother’s headstone in Hyderabad, too overcome with grief to question it. Whose grave was it? Who did he cry over?
“Who told you?” Kanthamma asks, stepping forward. Cherry looks to her, lost in memories of abandonment.
“U-Uncle.” Cherry whispers. “He came to find me. My father’s older brother.”
“Your father was an only child.” Kanthamma’s confusion deepens, but she rummages back through her box and pulls out a very small photo. She holds it up defiantly, close enough for Cherry to see.
“Him?” Kanthamma asks, her fury peaking. The man in the photo is slimmer and younger, but it’s Cherry’s uncle. Cherry sways his head yes.
Kanthamma curses. It’s loud and sharp. She continues to spit profanities, a torrent of insults aimed at the man in the photograph. Chitti laughs, never having heard his mother use such foul language.
“Not your uncle! Not your blood!” Kanthamma hisses. “My rotten brother.”
Koteswar sighs, and his eyes slip closed, exhausted. “Your mother was promised to him by my father. He was angry when they eloped.”
“He told us you had died! That your father’s family had your body!” Kanthamma crushes the photo in her fist, wild with anger.
Cherry tries to be comforted by Jai’s protective presence behind him, but the unfolding truths weigh heavy on his heart. His uncle was a stranger. Cherry had seen him only once before his parents were killed, but his young heart had hoped for more. For a protector, a relative to visit. He never did. It shouldn’t surprise Cherry, but it still pierces an old wound, jagged and sharp.
“He lied!” Kanthamma shouts. “If I find him, I—”
“He’s in prison.” Jai clips, his deep voice cutting through the fury. He keeps his involvement light but relays the information he gathered from Munna.
“Pan—” Jai stops himself. “Thammadu, he never gave the hospital payment for her surgery. He took it for himself.”
Cherry scoffs. The truth should hurt more than it does, but Cherry is learning to accept the cruelties the universe tosses at him.
“Pay-Payment?” Koteswar whimpers. Cherry wars with himself, afraid to tell them about his past, afraid of what they will think. Chitti’s kind smile emboldens him to be honest.
Cherry explains the deal his uncle struck. Payment for a confession. He quickly details his time spent in the home and feels a rush of guilt when Kanthamma starts to cry. She moves towards Cherry and takes his flushed face in her hands.
“I’m sorry. Babu, I’m so sor—”
“No!” Chitti barks, his face a firm resolve. “We didn’t do this. And no more crying!”
“This is a good day. This is good, Amma.” Kumar offers, Chinni smiling happily with him. Chitti looks at them, all alive and healthy, their baby cousin back in the fold. He reaches to wrap his arm around Cherry’s shoulders and smiles.
“We are cousins, Cherry.” Chitti exclaims and squeezes Cherry close.
“Cherry.” Kanthamma whispers the name to her husband and gives him an earnest look. Koteswar looks to Cherry with confusion and concern. He looks to the certificate in his hands that reads Charan.
“Amma. My mother.” Cherry says softly. “She called me Cherry.”
Koteswar’s face crumples and he sobs, clutching the certificate. Chitti sways his hand at Cherry and points to his father.
“Cherry, like Charan.” Chitti clarifies and looks to his father. Koteswar presses his palm to his chest and lets out a shaky breath.
“Chelluboina Koteswar Charan Rao. She would call me Cherry.” Koteswar sobs. “She named you after me.”
Cherry’s lip wobbles, his eyes wide and unblinking.
“It was—” Koteswar swallows, overcome with emotional memories. “Charan. Cherry. Her Chirutha.”
Cherry’s heart freezes. The air in his lungs disappears. “C-Chirutha?”
Koteswar makes a motion with his hand, like he’s holding something small and delicate. He sniffs, trying to speak clearly through the thick emotion that laces his vocal cords.
“I gave her a small thing. When we were young.” Koteswar smiles fondly to himself. “A Chirutha. Little cheetah. D-Do you remember it?”
Cherry’s resolve breaks, and he bursts into tears. His new family rushes to hold him.
Lava smiles proudly at the new theater center. He worked hard to procure permission to use the location for prop and costume storage. Once a temporary classroom, before the Rangasthalam’s main school was built, it sits conveniently behind the abandoned wooden stage at the center of the village. It took some cleaning and a little paint, but with his friends and family helping, it looks beautiful.
“Wait!” Kusa pauses his paintbrush and looks down from his ladder. “Is that right?”
Lava looks up at the tentative lettering and sways his head with a smile. The sign looks handmade, but it’s surprisingly neat. Kusa laughs happily, and Chitti holds the ladder when it wiggles from Kusa’s bouncing. The new sign is the last task to finish the grand opening before they can start rehearsing.
Jai carries a large faux crown into the building, something cheap he found in Rajahmundry. Kusa and Chitti follow him inside while Lava continues to record inventory outside. Cherry sits inside on an empty barrel, eating something indiscernible. Jai is magnetized to him, setting his crown down to say hello. Things have been quiet and easy since their meeting with the Chelluboinas. Chitti proudly proclaimed Cherry as a relative, and Kumar welcomed his cousin gently. Some of the moments have been awkward, but Cherry seems to be acclimating well. He smiles brightly when Jai finds him, his cheeks round and chewing. Jai pinches his belly as he eats and smirks.
“Round.” Jai teases. Cherry’s nose scrunches, knowing it isn’t true. He’s actually lost a little weight in the village, no longer working with dosa all day.
“Like you.” Cherry counters, taking another big bite. Jai laughs, inspired to kiss Cherry but persuaded against it by the other men around them.
Kasi and Shatru stand nearby, arguing with their brothers over organizing stage tools. Kusa and Chitti join them, deciding on loose scarves and extravagant jewelry to don during rehearsals. Chitti has already proclaimed himself in the role of Hanuman, and Kusa decides to reprise his role as Lakshmana.
“Who can we play?” Kasi and Shatru ask together, with their younger brothers laughing at how their voices harmonize.
It triggers memories in Jai. The kind of memories identical siblings share. Jai watches Kusa smile at himself, his eyes searching for Lava. Jai’s recollection is different, his memories not as soft. Jai’s eyes turn away, remembering how his stammer would interrupt his brother’s when they were younger. Unable to parrot them, unable to harmonize as siblings.
“Monkeys!” Kusa laughs. The twins argue playfully back and forth, Kasi and Shatru insisting they should be Rama and Lakshmana.
“Jatayu and Sampati.” Jai instructs, his voice flat.
The twins think to themselves and then agree, warming to the idea. “We will need feathers.” They tell their brothers, who nod seriously and disappear into boxes of costumes.
Jai sighs. This place feels too familiar and yet very different. In Lanka he was alone, with complete control of his theater. With Lava and Kusa here, it reminds him of old scars and missed experiences, of everything he was denied and all the ways he doesn’t fit.
The sudden melancholy that swirls around Jai is dark enough and thick enough for Cherry to sense. Anyone else would confuse it for Jai’s default grumpiness, but Cherry is literate in Jai’s more imperceptible emotions. Cherry clicks his tongue and shoves a half-eaten snack at his moody lover. Jai huffs, taking a big bite, and lingers to kiss Cherry’s hand. Public affection isn’t like them, but they feel a little safe with the men here, knowing that Kasi is accepted by his brothers and knowing how tender Chitti and Kusa are around them. Regardless of their tolerance, everyone responds with stifled taunts, and Kusa mimics a gag that Chitti admonishes with a pinch.
“It was worse in Lanka.” Shatru barks and layers his left shoulder with a stack of fabric. Jai’s face twists toward the former rowdy, but Cherry pulls him back with laughter.
“Was it so bad?” Cherry asks quietly. “We were never together in front of them.”
Jai hums and starts to go through a box of jewelry that needs organizing. He affirms Cherry’s argument but doesn’t explain his behavior in Lanka without Cherry. How his strange temperaments and decisions signaled an infatuation. He also doesn’t mention how often Cherry developed blind spots to the various men who could see them, guards who knew how to be invisible in the grand halls.
“All I did all day was clean and make tea.” Cherry argues. He catches the way Jai’s face changes and smirks.
“You know that.” Cherry teases, satisfied that the men around them are now out of earshot. “You used to watch me.”
Jai’s face tinges pink, sudden embarrassment shielding his frame. Cherry laughs and chews the last of his food. Cherry is right. Jai remembers watching. He remembers Cherry’s sweet frustrations with old wood and heavy marble. How often he would throw his thongs across the room and crawl around barefoot, cleaning like a stubborn child.
The displays weren’t always endearing. Jai remembers Cherry’s small body bent on the floor trying to reach under the bed. He remembers the round shape of his bottom and how softly the curves of his thighs joined as he knelt.
“You knew?” Jai asks softly, pretending to focus on the hollow plastic gada in his hands.
“You weren’t very good at hiding.” Cherry teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Why do you think I kept pushing you? I knew what you wanted.”
Jai’s mouth twists with an expression that looks like anger, but Cherry sees through the mask and motions for more embarrassing displays of affection.
“Just like Lanka!” Kusa exclaims, appearing from seemingly nowhere to interrupt them.
Cherry laughs when Jai rolls his eyes and pulls away.
“Not much of a king anymore, though.” Kusa muses. “No more car bombs and kidnapping.”
Cherry’s brows pinch in confusion, watching as Jai’s face twists into a strange and worrying expression. Cherry opens his mouth to ask Kusa to elaborate when a soft voice stops him.
“Charan?” Kumar steps into the building politely, his frame silhouetted by the afternoon light, a bright beam bringing in sunshine.
Kumar’s eyes find the group of busy men, and his gaze settles on Cherry. Chitti gives his older brother a quick greeting, his hands full of wood and paint, and Kumar moves further inside. Cherry raises his hand awkwardly, and Jai watches the taller Chelluboina from the corner of his eye.
“Cherry.” Jai corrects, trying to keep his tone neutral.
“Yes.” Kumar blushes and stands awkwardly next to Cherry. He hands out a small packet, eager to make his delivery and leave. “My mother sent me. Old photos you might want.”
Cherry takes them swiftly, smiling in gratitude. He flips through the faded photographs with happy sounds and shows them to Jai. Kusa crowds them, giggling over how cute Cherry was as a baby. Jai watches softly, wary of Kumar lingering near them.
“Thank you.” Cherry whispers. “There are so many.”
Kumar laughs. “My mother keeps everything.” He catches the stony look Jai sends his way and smiles tightly, taking his cue to leave.
“She will let me know if there is anything else.” Kumar finishes, and Cherry sways his head in gratitude.
The building is small. It takes only a few strides for Kumar to get back to the entrance and then another stride to collide with Lava on his way inside. Lava clutches a box of donations tightly, ensuring he doesn’t drop it. They dance for a moment, shifting and apologizing awkwardly. Kumar can feel burning gazes on his back when he hears Shatru and Kasi shushing their younger brothers.
“S-Sorry.” Lava stammers, keeping his gaze anywhere but on Kumar’s face. He tries to smile, tries to appear unaffected, but Kumar’s guilty expression ruins it.
“The campaign is doing well.” Kumar blurts, regretting his words immediately. He pushes at the bridge of his spectacles and reprimands himself.
“Oh, good.” Lava replies, too embarrassed to try and sound enthused. He moves to pass Kumar and recoils when they brush against each other again.
Kumar’s guilt compounds, and he decides to abandon the failed interaction, scratching his head awkwardly and leaving abruptly. Lava moves inside quickly, ignoring how Chitti’s eyes follow him. Ignoring the worried expressions on his brothers faces. He sets the box down and turns.
“Who is going to play Rammadu?”
Kusa barks out a laugh and points to Jai.
“No.”
The small group of unruly performers managed to hammer out a few good hours of rehearsal, despite their missing lead. Jai had refused to act out any of Lord Rama’s lines and instead kept himself busy with keeping everyone on track. Cherry had helped with organizing costume changes, and Kusa enthusiastically performed as Lord Rama’s devoted brother. His passion for the role was matched by Chitti’s honorable Hanuman.
Lava fed deadpan lines to everyone, refusing to take up the position of the prince of Ayodhya. It would feel wrong to him now. For Lava and Kusa to reprise their role as loving brothers, only to leave Jai to hide in the shadows again. He instead takes the parts of all the characters without actors, only until they can be filled by volunteer villagers.
Jai is just as uncomfortable with the part, remembering how desperately he begged to play Lord Ram as a child. The role is soured for him now. His reprisal in Lanka furthers his refusal. Brokenhearted and wild with grief, that mock performance with his brothers would make any future adaptation feel awkward and false.
Lava makes plans to hold auditions, and the men agree to be patient. They are rewarded with dinner. Lava invites everyone to his home for a meal to celebrate their first read-through. Shatru and his brothers decline, having their mother at home to tend to, but Chitti is more than happy to accept free food.
“It’s so good, Lav!” Kusa praises his brother’s mutton and shoves another handful of curry and paratha in his mouth. Kusa reaches for another flatbread with his free hand, and Chitti slaps at it.
“Not the left!” Chitti admonishes, and Kusa smirks, smearing curry on Chitti’s cheek with a quick kiss.
“Ew.” Cherry laughs, tossing the paratha with his right hand to Chitti’s hungry lover. He has yet to start his meal, too tickled by how fast Kusa can make food disappear.
“I miss Lanka.” Kusa sighs and tucks his left hand away politely. “No rules.”
Jai scoffs and starts on his own dish, chewing slowly. Kusa continues to be nostalgic for Lanka lately, perhaps a strange way of processing his own memories of the stage. Jai ignores his brother and points his chin at Cherry’s plate, encouraging him to eat. Cherry scoops his hand through rice and curry when Kusa starts to babble.
“Ah, you remember Jai!? Rowdies and kidnapped maidens! Do you miss it, Jai?” Kusa stuffs more food in his mouth, and Jai squints at him.
“Maidens?” Cherry asks softly, holding his first bite still in the air. Jai’s face falls, a dread washing over him, a sudden realization souring the family meal.
“Lava’s Priya and my Simran!” Kusa exclaims happily. Jai’s head snaps up, fear turning to panic.
“Oh, that woman you loved.” Chitti says, his face a little sour. Kusa knocks him with his shoulder, and Chitti warms, remembering that they’ve talked about it and it was long before Rangasthalam.
“Simran?” Cherry whispers, recognizing the name but unable to place it.
Jai’s face inflames. He grits his brother’s name through his teeth, refusing to look at Cherry’s confused expression. He glares at his younger brother. His stupid brother, trying to will Kusa’s words back into his mouth. Lava patiently measures the carnage before attempting to interject.
“We left them in Odisha. Remember Kusa?” Lava says firmly, then turns to reassure Cherry. “They didn’t approve of Jai.”
Kusa turns to Chitti and laughs. “Especially Simaran! She was so angry. It’s a good thing Jai didn’t marry her.”
A full plate of food goes flying. It knocks against Kusa’s shoulder, and Jai’s face flashes with rage.
“Fucking idiot.” Jai hisses.
“Marry!?” Cherry yells, his voice low and demanding. “What does he mean?!”
Jai’s stammer crawls up his throat, locking his jaw. Cherry stands, his hair static in the humid night, a trembling fury forming on his features. Jai stands with him, bracing for the outrage. Food scatters at their abrupt movements, and Chitti winces. Kusa wilts, understanding his mistake, feeling foolish for thinking his older brother had been honest with Cherry. Lava watches with a mouth full of food, his eyes wide, snapping back and forth between Cherry and Jai.
“Ch-Cherry, sh-she was—” Jai tries to explain, but Cherry screeches, pushing at Jai’s chest with angry hands. Jai tries to right himself when he stumbles, not wanting to topple over the platters on the floor. Cherry follows him, and the rest of the dinner guests stand to avoid Cherry’s wrath.
“Were you going to get married?!” Cherry’s voice is high and growing wild.
“He, he did it to mess with us!” Kusa tries to explain, his hand out in a plea. Cherry’s head whips towards Kusa, his eyes burning. Lava scrunches his shoulders.
“Me—Kusa! I loved her. She was trying to poison him!” Kusa explains, attempting to laugh it off, genuinely upset at his blunder.
“Well, Jai didn’t know that you loved her.” Lava corrects and then winces when Jai sends him a death glare. Kusa makes a wild sound and raises the back of his hand. Lava flinches at the threat, and Jai pulls his hands roughly over his face.
“You loved her?” Cherry whimpers, misunderstanding the explanation, lost in his worst fears come true.
“No!” Jai shouts. He turns to his brothers and points a finger. “No!”
Cherry pushes at Jai’s chest again, and the larger man sways back.
“Tell me!” Cherry screeches. His teeth snap, but his eyes are wet with betrayal. The situation comes to a boil, threatening to turn violent when Cherry smacks ’Jai’s shoulders with open hands.
“I-I—” Jai’s jaw cracks at his attempt to explain. He feels useless and thrown backwards, the months of trust he’s built with Cherry erased.
“Liar! Liar!” Cherry screams, prompting Chitti and Kusa to hesitantly step forward, considering if they should intervene. Jai manages to grab Cherry’s wrists to stop him.
“Don’t!” Jai turns his head, yelling the instruction at his brothers.
Cherry growls and pulls from Jai’s hold. He dodges Jai’s lunge to grab him and races up the staircase towards Jai’s bedroom, his feet stomping angrily, screeching with each step. Jai watches him run, his eyes wide and his mind trying to form a response. He turns, facing Chitti and his worried brothers.
“G-Go.” Jai pulls out a wad of rupees from his lungi and presses it into Kusa’s hand. “Just go. Eat. I’ll fix this, but you n-need to go.”
“Jai, we—” Lava starts, his concern interrupted by crashing sounds in Jai’s room. Jai sighs, his eyes slipping closed.
“He’s just upset. It’s fine. Go.” Jai swallows. “He’s like this sometimes.”
“Annaya, I’m sorry—” Kusa whimpers, but Jai sways his head. He knows this isn’t Kusa’s fault, and he won’t punish him for it.
The three onlookers are convinced at the sound of another crash. They scramble out of the house quickly, and Jai climbs the stairs, preparing himself for Cherry’s tantrum.
Jai shuts the door firmly behind him when he enters his room. He tries to grab Cherry, wild with heartache, grabbing at the potted vines that still line the ceiling. Jai’s potted flowers, now withered vines and forgotten. Shattered clay and wet soil cover the floor. Jai moves inside carefully, trying to avoid the destruction in his thin thongs. Cherry’s eyes find Jai’s, and he grabs another pot, slamming it to the ground defiantly. Jai’s face pinches in frustration, and he lunges towards Cherry. It’s a struggle at first, but Jai manages to stop him, holding his wiggling body tightly.
“Stop! Prema, p-please!” Jai begs, more concerned with the sharp shards near their feet.
“You lied! About everything!” Cherry snaps his teeth when he yells, his hair wild around his face, tears tumbling down his cheeks.
“You can’t do this to me! Not again!” Cherry’s voice breaks, turning thin.
“C-Cherry, I—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cherry warbles, and Jai swallows, trying to calm his stammer.
“I forgot.”
Cherry’s face freezes, not quite processing the answer. It eventually twists, his rage returning full force.
“You fucking liar! You told me! You told me you don’t fuck women! How could you forget?!”
Jai lets go of Cherry, exasperated, his concern turning to frustration.
“How could you forget, huh? Chee! Forget? Do you think I’m a fucking idiot? How—”
“You tore me apart!” Jai yells, dropping his arms to his side in defeat.
Cherry freezes at the strange confession, panting with clenched fists. It’s ridiculous, a stupid attempt to victimize himself and excuse his lies.
“You ripped everything out of me when you left.” Jai’s voice cracks. Cherry frowns, his mouth a tight line. He tells himself to not be naive, to stand his ground. This is Raavan returned, a master of manipulation and betrayal.
“I didn’t leave.” Cherry grits, his fists clenching at his sides.
“I know.” Jai steps closer. “I was empty. I didn’t care—”
Jai stops to swallow, rubbing at his forehead, terrible at trying to describe his feelings.
“I forgot. She meant so little to me. I forgot.” Jai sighs, and Cherry’s expression wilts.
“Who was she?” Cherry asks, unwilling to let it go. Jai sighs, recalling the memories of that terrible place.
“Tapan’s sister.”
Cherry’s eyes widen, and he sways. Tapan. The vivid memories of that night give his heart whiplash. Take care of my sister. Take care of Simran. Cherry isn’t foolish enough to believe Tapan’s last wish was the sole reason behind the engagement, but it makes room for doubt.
Jai steps forward cautiously, and Cherry flinches. He’s afraid, but the work they’ve done together urges him to reconsider his outburst. He contemplates the path behind them, comparing it to who they are now, and slowly previous revelations seep in. They push past the fog of his anger and reveal insistent truths. In this village, Jai is different. He wears soft clothing, and his curls grow out wild against a wilted stance. He’s not Raavan.
Raavan would have built a new empire. He would have gathered wealth and power. Instead he decided to live simply, in a small village, and wait for Cherry to find him. His excuse to lay low was just that, an excuse. Nobody is looking for them. Nobody is keeping them here. It’s just Jai.
“Did you fuck her?” Cherry asks, his voice soft.
“No.” Jai moves closer, answering in a stern voice that grounds them both.
“Did you kiss her?”
“No.” Jai repeats the response with even more conviction.
“Did you tell her you love her?” Cherry’s voice cracks, his expression wide and trembling, more tears tumbling down his cheeks.
“No.” Jai whispers.
A tender moment passes between them. They watch each other stand still, studying the energy that pulls them together. Jai moves again, close enough to feel Cherry’s breath on his lips. He touches Cherry’s cheek and brushes his thumb lovingly over stubble and skin. Something strong passes through Cherry’s body, and Jai flinches when it changes Cherry’s expression. It’s something different that Jai recognizes. Neither angry nor sad, but possessive. Cherry moves with intention, fast and unbridled. His hand shoots between Jai’s legs, grabbing firmly to squeeze his cock and balls.
“This is mine.” Cherry hisses, his eyes wild and threatening. Jai shudders, unable to resist the arousal that surges through him. It should surprise him, but it doesn’t. Jai is more than familiar with this plane of Cherry’s emotional landscape.
“Only for me.” Cherry commands, and Jai sways his head, keeping his gaze steady and confident.
“Yes.” Jai clips and swallows. He feels Cherry start to move his hand, petting and pushing slowly. Jai’s cock fills embarrassingly fast, unable to resist responding to Cherry’s touch. Jai’s hips push into Cherry’s palm, and the movement forces their bodies even closer.
“Show me.” Cherry’s voice is hoarse and his eyelids droop, the arousal in the air seeping through his skin. Jai’s eyes shine for a moment, and he lunges, latching his mouth to Cherry’s, pushing his tongue in.
Cherry moans and welcomes Jai with his soft lips, wet and pliant. The kiss is searing, another adamant argument. Another struggle with blistering heat to enjoy. The kiss moves and makes demands. Licking and nipping at each other’s mouths, fighting to push in. Jai growls with each pass and holds Cherry’s body in a tight grip.
They move together, each wet sound sending them closer to their bed. Cherry rips at Jai’s clothing, eventually getting to his cock. He squeezes the base possessively, and Jai groans.
“Brat.” Jai grits, pulling on Cherry’s clothing just as roughly.
Cherry makes an indignant sound, demanding and erotic. It pushes Jai to be aggressive, and they fall to the bed in a tangle of limbs. Jai tries to use his weight to take control, but Cherry’s movements are sharp and vigorous. He manages to get his hands between them and plays with their shared arousal. Cherry wiggles to pull on himself, swapping out his cock for Jai’s greedily.
Jai knocks his hands away to reposition his hips. He grabs roughly at Cherry’s thighs, his hands squeezing and lifting. Cherry’s response is a whimper before Jai flips him onto his belly, trembling with desire. Jai hovers close, prowling over Cherry’s vulnerability. The new position is revealing. Jai marvels at Cherry’s bare body, his skin warm and pliant over strong muscles. Cherry whines impatiently and yelps when Jai swats his bottom.
The strike catches when Jai’s hand brushes silicon. He pulls back to look down, stilled by what he finds. Nestled neatly in Cherry’s bottom is the flared end of a pink plug. Jai marvels at Cherry’s secret, his cock throbbing, long enough for Cherry to notice.
“You forgot!” Cherry shouts, trying to reach back and smack Jai.
Jai hadn’t. He remembers the day the little package came in the mail. How embarrassed and flushed Cherry had been picking it up at the post. They had opened it in their room, and Cherry had played with it in his hands, giggling at its pink color and shiny finish.
It was something new, something they had typed impulsively into Lava’s computer. Cherry had been disbelieving of its use at first, unsure of what it might imply about his desires, but Jai had explained it thoroughly. It was a blushing conversation, quiet and kind, one that eventually led to Jai promising that its first use would be a surprise. Giving Cherry a sense of control, allowing him to decide when it might come to play.
The details come together in Jai’s mind quickly. Cherry’s nightmare and the supportive connection they made after. Jai ignores the ache of how their fight may have threatened this trusting gift, grateful that they are both often able to prioritize their cocks over unending dramatics.
“You forgot this too!” Cherry snaps, his angry pout too thin to conceal his arousal.
Jai brushes away obsessive thoughts and puts his fingers to the flat end of the plug, ignoring Cherry’s frustration. Cherry moans, the pressure eliciting an electric sensation. Jai rotates the pads of his fingers, and the plug stretches, hitting sensitive points that make Cherry tremble.
“You like it?” Jai’s voice is heavy and slick, weighed down by blood that fills his cock. His fingers press again, wiggling the toy.
“Jai.” Cherry whines, his voice tinged with insecurity.
Jai remembers their argument, how Cherry’s anger towards Jai often masks abandonment. His hand softens and reaches for Cherry’s back, running down his spine to soothe him. Cherry whimpers and moves, spreading his thighs and canting his hips back.
Jai only hums his approval, taking the base of the toy and tugging gently. Cherry responds with a long sound, his stiff muscles softening into the sensation. His thighs draw forward, adding a pulling sensation, wanting to give the plug leverage and friction. Jai’s cock throbs between his legs, now hard as iron. He licks at his lips and continues to move the toy. As Cherry’s hole stretches around the fattest part of the plug, Jai stops, twisting it gently and pushing it back in.
Cherry lets out another long noise, his shoulders bunching from the overwhelming pleasure. Hot liquid washes through his body like a warm wave, jolting periodically at each new sensation. It finds its way to his nipples and cheeks, warming every part of him from within. His cock strains to thicken, heavy and sensitive against the bed.
Jai begins to fuck Cherry with the plug, trying to loosen the tight muscle further. Cherry mirrors Jai’s movements, pushing his hips up and down, back and forth, eager to participate. The silicone makes a slick sound as it slides in and out, competing to try and drown out Cherry’s voice. The toy is wet and smooth. Cherry knew to be generous with the lubricant, leaving him wet enough to coat Jai’s fingers. Regardless, Jai reaches for the tube in their dresser, wanting to be thorough.
Removing the plug causes Cherry to whimper, but once Jai applies their viscous calendula, it’s slid back in quickly. Jai continues his tortuous movements, his arm straining as he thrusts the toy in and out of Cherry’s body. Cherry’s movements become impatient, stuttering as he fucks himself on the toy.
Cherry’s passion makes Jai’s cock ache. His lover is pliant and submissive under him, begging Jai to fuck him himself. Jai wants to wait, to spend his time with the toy, to prove how insistently Jai loves him, but his cock disagrees and wins the argument easily.
Jai removes the plug for the last time, tossing it to the bed. He slicks his cock with lubricant and pushes in. Cherry wails at the new intrusion. It’s no longer an uncomfortable stretch but a burning push that sends pleasure from his toes to his ears, returning to concentrate behind his cock.
Cherry draws out Jai’s name, long and needy. It’s a crackling response, on the edge of an orgasm, wild with instinctual desire. Jai responds with a heavy hand on Cherry’s hips, trying to hold the willing body still. Jai starts to thrust. It isn’t fast and wild but strong and slow.
Cherry is loud, warbling, and rutting against the mattress. He convulses with each push, his knees trying to bend for more leverage, his feet catching on Jai’s thighs. Cherry’s body is a tight furnace, hot and slick. Jai trembles with each push, each envelopment of heat around his cock. The slide in and out is incredible, the muscle pliant but gripping. Jai’s own voice punches out of him, his balls tight and full.
“Jai!” Cherry’s voice cracks, small and thin. Jai thrusts faster, attuned to his lover’s body.
Cherry’s hand grabs at Jai’s arm, squeezing tightly as his orgasm crests. That familiar implosion finds him, and it’s overwhelming with each hard thrust of Jai’s cock. He convulses, present enough to reach between his thighs and pull, stroking himself through his orgasm. It’s wild and mindless, a flash flood jolting through Cherry’s body. Jai cums with him, electricity shooting through his veins like wayward darts.
Jai lets out a strange string of sounds, some coming from his chest and some half-formed words of adoration. He freezes on a heavy thrust, his balls drawing up and pulsating. He feels himself cum, the wet warmth inside of Cherry spreading. His body trembles as he feels Cherry’s walls contract around him, convulsing with Jai. When he pulls out, it’s slow, panting through emotions masked as exertion. He can feel a gush of fluid following his cock and squeezes at Cherry’s bottom to steady his trembling knees.
Cherry mumbles something strange into the bed, his face pressed comically flat. Jai laughs, short and quiet, before slumping back, eventually moving next to Cherry properly. It’s a mess of limbs and fluid, and for once Jai is too exhausted to clean them. They breathe quietly, shifting their bodies slowly, trying to return to earth. Cherry bends gently, allowing the ache in his muscles to rest and enjoying the bliss that still lingers inside of him. Jai does the same but pulls Cherry close, reminding them both of their connection.
“I would have died before I got the chance to marry her. I knew that.” Jai swallows, his voice returning to him. “Without you, I had nothing left to want. I would have married anyone.”
Cherry’s lip wobbles, his eyes wide and still shaken when reminded by Jai’s devotion. He wonders still if it’s absolute, if anyone could love him that deeply. His eyes find the mess on the floor, and his body recoils, suddenly ashamed that he behaved so badly in front of Jai’s family. In front of Chitti. Anyone else in the world would have left, fed up with Cherry’s wild emotions. But maybe Jai is different. Maybe he is the only one strong enough to endure this mess.
“But we don’t fight like that. We are dif-f-frent now. We don’t break things.” Jai resists the impulse to sound kind or forgiving. This is a boundary Harsheli taught him, and he knows they can’t be flippant with it.
Cherry sways his head sadly. He wants that too. He wants to make that promise, but his history with love argues against it. It reminds him of Raavan’s temperament and abandonment, of all the other people who have cast him aside. A quiet voice tells him he deserved it, that it’s an appropriate response to Cherry’s affection.
Your uncle, Sanjana, and now Jai. You are too hard to love.
“You can’t marry a woman.” Cherry breathes, exhausted by his own fears. Jai sighs, frustration threatening the edges of his strength.
“I won’t have anyone else to love me.” Cherry sobs, tears returning to fall again. “I’m too much.”
“Stop.” Jai demands and puts his hand to the back of Cherry’s head, cradling him close.
“I like too much.” Jai whispers. “I love too much.”
The soothing affirmation works, like it always does. Cherry shudders, his melancholy lifting through sniffles. Deep down he knows loving Jai is his only option. It’s a choice he has to keep making. To trust Jai, to trust himself. Jai clears his throat and settles his expression.
“Stop being dramatic. We need to clean this up.”
Cherry makes an indignant sound when Jai leaves the bed, stepping carefully around soil and clay. Cherry stays put, scrunching himself into the bedsheets with a mumble.
“You do it!”
Rangamma sighs, watching Kusa devour the last of her paneer. Chitti drinks the toddy they brought as a gift and tries to apologize to his neighbor with the story of Kusa’s mistake.
Rangamma laughs, familiar with the tales of Cherry’s anger in the village. It’s explosive but known to be justified. Convinced that is probably the case now, she hopes Jai’s foolishness is handled swiftly. Hopefully before Kusa and Chitti empty her pantry.
“Dharani wasn’t home!” Chitti interjects, answering Rangamma’s unsaid complaints.
“He’s with Vannela and her husband in the city.” Raggamma explains. “The triplets need vaccines.”
Rangaama clicks her tongue at the strange expressions they make, eyeing each other with suspicion.
“They call Dharani nanna.” Kusa quips. Rangamma slits her eyes and pinches her lips.
“And Suri too.” Chitti adds with a teasing expression.
“And?” Rangamma counters. “Children make little mistakes.”
“It doesn’t look that way.” Chitti shrugs. “It’s strange.”
Rangamma scoffs, tossing a pea at Chitti’s head. He tries to catch it with his mouth and fails, prompting a fit of laughter.
“You two are strange!” Rangamma points her finger at the men who snap their heads in defiance.
Lava looks at Rangamma innocently, trying to chew his food politely. He’s grateful for the meal, regardless of his companions behaviors. Kusa steals one of Lava’s roti to give to Chitti, and the two thieves dissolve into sweet laughter. Kusa kisses Chitti’s shoulder, prompting playful shoving. Lava reprimands the affection silently, pinching Kusa’s knee.
“You both need to be more careful.” Rangamma warns, rinsing her fingers in water and handing Lava a paratha. Kusa looks up innocently from his ravenous eating.
“The villagers are talking. You wear your rings on your hands now!” Rangamma’s concern bleeds through her frustration, but both men refuse the admonishment.
“Kusa is my husband.” Chitti whispers. Kusa slows his eating. They’ve been mostly unconcerned about the warnings they hear of their open affection. But it’s still strange to hear Chitti be so honest.
“I know, abbayi.” Ramgamma eyes the gold band on Chitti’s finger, her attention shifting to the watch on his wrist. She sighs at his stubbornness, and her eyes find her husband’s portrait above the doorway. Chitti recognizes how her mood shifts, sad and deflated.
“If they are talking, then they know. What is wrong with that?” Chitti argues, confidently shoving more food into his mouth. Kusa squirms, more and more uncomfortable with the conversation.
“Not everyone loves you like I do.” Ramgamma whispers. Chitti’s shoulders slump, drained by the unspoken dangers of his choices.
“We can protect ourselves.” Kusa offers weakly.
“And your families?” Rangamma looks to Lava, who blushes and stops chewing. Rangamma sighs, defeated by their guilty expressions.
“Please. Be careful.”
Kumar wanders the village alone. He wonders about his conversation with Padma. It was achingly difficult but necessary. He wants to be faithful, to ensure their marriage isn’t based on a lie. He is tired of lies.
Kumar has spent many nights concealing the parts of himself he doesn’t trust. In Dubai, Kumar told himself Padma would be married when he returned to Rangasthalam. So he indulged in his impulses, finding lonely men to love for a few hours. He was quite modest in his adventures, never falling into a bed or becoming too intimate. Fortunately, touching and kissing sated his curiosities enough.
Kumar was surprised to still find Padma waiting for him. He was surprised it relieved him. His next milestone was gifted to him wrapped in a simple package. He can marry Padma, and he can travel between Rangasthalam and Dubai for work. His parents will have a new daughter and grandchildren and allow Chitti to wander with Kusa. This marriage will make everything easy. It will fulfill his responsibility. Meeting Lava was an unexpected disruption, one that needs to be corrected.
Kumar needs to speak to Lava. The awkward meeting today at the theater can’t happen again. Kumar needs to explain himself and to apologize. If all goes well, perhaps he and Lava can be friends. Kumar ignores the way his chest burns at the idea of friendship, and he continues to persuade himself. He just needs to be honest. He just needs to explain things. Lava will understand.
Kumar’s swirling thoughts subconsciously direct his path in the village. He finds himself at Lava’s house quicker than he expected and pauses to admire the humble home. It shouldn’t intimidate him, but it does. He thinks about Chitti and Kusa. How badly they hide their affections. He thinks about Lava’s eldest brother and the wildfire he kindles with the stranger who lives with him, now revealed to be his missing cousin. He knows now the three brothers aren’t afraid to love openly, perhaps to their detriment. Kumar tries to bury a rush of shame at how his limitations compare to their honesty.
Kumar moves quickly to the entrance of the Nendumulo home, draped neatly with a thin curtain. He calls out softly but parts the hanging fabric when there’s no answer. The situation inside is disturbed and cluttered. Kumar moves further inside to investigate.
The main room is empty save for a forgotten meal on the ground. Kumar counts five seats and half-empty plates. A few of the platters are turned over, and the floor is smeared with chutney. Kumar feels a pang of worry. Lava seems to be the only one among the brothers who cooks, and he is exceptionally neat when he does. Kumar wonders if the bright red Achar could be confused for blood, and his worry escalates.
Kumar steps in further, repeating his greeting quietly, his breathing audible in the quiet room. He hears a sound, a muffled creak coming from upstairs. Kumar spots smears of vermilion on the staircase, and his heart pounds. His mind reminds him of his conflicts with the society, of Lava’s involvement. He moves quickly to the stairs that lead to two bedrooms, but he climbs them slowly, straining to hear and keep quiet. Another sound, low and strained. It comes from the room Kumar saw Lava retreat to the day Kumar helped with Lava’s altar. Lava’s room.
Kumar hurries forward, panicking. He hears a sad sound, long and reedy. Frightening images flash before Kumar. Lava bleeding, dying on the floor of his room, stabbed by one of President’s men. It’s a nightmare, a horrific premonition that rattles Kumar. Lava’s throat is slashed, and he clutches his neck, trying to stay alive. Kumar forgets himself. His surroundings disappear in his panic. All he can see is Lava suffering, Lava dying. Kumar hears another whimper and a shuffle, like someone struggling, and it sends him into a panic.
Kumar shoves himself past the closed door of Lava’s room and freezes. Lava isn’t inside. The heavy wood of the door no longer muffles the loud sounds that come from inside. The whimpers and moans aren’t soft. They are wild and punched out, high with urgency. Kumar stands frozen at the threshold, realizing this is not Lava’s room. This is Jai’s.
The evidence lies out on the bed in the center of the room. Jai kneels over Cherry, his hips thrusting down, his body slick and flushed. They are both pointed towards the doorway, Jai gripping the wood frame at the end of the bed and Cherry squeezing the bedsheets. The two men are naked with nothing to cover them. Cherry is belly down, thighs spread, and hips pushing back as Jai fucks him. They don’t see Kumar immediately, lost in their intimacy, chasing their arousal. Cherry’s eyes are closed in bliss, his mouth fallen open, and Jai is focused on Cherry’s bottom, watching himself slip in and out.
Kumar’s brain takes an embarrassingly long time to realize this is sex and not Lava dying. He wonders absently where Lava actually is, suddenly worried again. His contemplation feels long and stretched out, invisible to the preoccupied couple. But, in reality, it’s only a few seconds before his presence is noticed. Jai hears Kumar make a strange noise, albeit delayed, and shouts. Cherry looks up, frightened by Jai’s sudden anger. Kumar stumbles, his back hits the doorframe, and it hurts, making him wince.
Jai shouts again, angry and loud. Kumar doesn’t move, too terrified and confused and deeply embarrassed to react properly. Jai stands from the bed, wild and irate. Kumar flushes with mortification as he watches Jai’s cock slip from Cherry’s bottom. Cherry protests the harsh movement, but Jai grabs at him, shoving him into a smaller shape, and then haphazardly covering him with blankets to protect his nudity. Cherry shouts from under the fabric, muffled and confused.
Jai moves like an animal towards Kumar, his expression dark and his cock still hard and slick between his legs. Kumar’s nervous system restarts. He trembles and stumbles again. Jai grabs at his shirt, shoving him into the hallway and cursing. It’s comical in a way, given Kumar’s height. Jia holds his own, pushing him again to bounce against the banister. Kumar apologizes and stumbles over incoherent words, racing down the stairs and tripping over soiled pans of cold food.
Jai watches him leave the home and slams the door to his room loudly. He turns back to the bed to watch his lover fight his way through blankets and surface for air. Cherry’s neck and cheeks are flushed red, confused, and a little embarrassed. He takes in deep breaths with wide eyes and grips the thin blanket around his shoulders tightly.
“Will he tell? Is that bad?” Cherry whispers, his hair static and sticking up from being covered.
“No.” Jai scoffs and shoves his heavy dresser in front of the door. He walks back to the bed and grabs at Cherry, yanking the blanket away. Jai pulls and repositions Cherry roughly, who yelps, getting pushed flat on the bed again.
“He tried to fuck Lava.” Jai grunts and angles Cherry’s hips.
“He what!?” Cherry turns back to look at Jai. Jai gives Cherry’s bottom a smack and lines his cock up before pushing back in. Cherry forgets the shocking gossip and refills the space with moans.
Kumar paces the office he campaigns out of restlessly. His hands pull at his hair, trying to will away shame and humiliation. The images still linger in his mind. Sex, hot and unfiltered. Sex between two men. Sex between his cousin and Lava’s brother. Kumar’s body moves under the weight of a strange melancholy, an unforgiving jealousy that deeply embarrasses him. He slaps at his cheeks aggressively and whines, telling this feeling to be quiet, begging it to obey him.
It’s overwhelming, and after a few laps, Kumar surrenders to fatigue. He stops with a whimpering sound and slumps into his office chair. The makeshift office is too compact for a panic attack. He came here to hide, to be alone in the small shed. The place he and Lava once shared. Kumar reprimands Lava’s insertion into his spiraling thoughts. He tries to breathe, tries to negotiate with his mind.
It was just sex. It was just a mistake. They don’t care as much about this as you do.
The attempt is a failure. The images linger, wild and demanding. Kumar’s mind betrays him. It sees Cherry’s lax expression, wanton bliss, and coital submission painting his features. Kumar still sees their slick skin, the way Jai’s muscles shifted with each hard thrust. It’s a torture, a conniving platter of his impulses, sent to remind him of what he can’t have.
Kumar whines again, covering his hot face in his hands. He remembers Cherry is his lost cousin, and his stomach turns, recoiling in disgust. It’s a harsh juxtaposition to his cock, sensitive and fat in his trousers, indifferent to their identities. Their bodies were strong and tight, inviting and shameless. It’s more than desire for Kumar. Jai’s face left an unexpected impression. It isn’t that he looks like Lava. In truth, Kumar thinks the identical siblings look nothing alike. Where Jai’s face has hard curves and straight deep lines, Lava has soft shapes and a malleable build. It’s the reminder of how they contrast that intensifies Kumar’s struggle. Kumr’s mind reminds him of them, of Lava’s features. Lotus eyes, plush lips, and milky skin. It’s his face, his body, until Cherry’s fucked-out expression inserts itself into the musing, worn like a mask.
Kumar’s cock throbs, constructing a new indecent vision. Lava lying in his bed, no longer bleeding, no longer whimpering in fear. His body tinged pink and stretched out, slick and naked. Kumar groans. The fantasy is a torture, one he rarely allows himself to indulge in. His palm finds his cock under his trousers and pushes. The fantasy shifts quickly. Lava on his belly, Lava looking back at Kumar, sweet and needy. Kumar searches for the impulse to reprimand himself, but his shame has been replaced with arousal, a flooding of warmth and relief. He swallows, getting lost in his desires, his hand pressed firmly against himself.
The erotic episode continues to play out in Kumar’s desperate mind. It’s filthy at first, skin slick and tight. Kumar’s hand moves up and down the rigid shape against his clothing. It feels good, liquid, and full. His cock pulses against his palm, imagining Lava’s mouth. They are together, pressed flush, Lava’s imaginary whimper echoing in his ears. Kumar licks his lips, moving to pull out his cock when the lighting around Lava dims. Their bodies press tenderly, and Lava’s sweet eyes are watching him, asking for his heart. The heat and titillation from Jai and Cherry’s coupling fade away to something different, something terrifying.
Lava says sweet things, whispered endearments Kumar can’t make out. He tilts up, wanting a kiss, molding the soft lines of his mouth to Kumar’s. They drink from each other, having their fill. It’s passionate and meaningful, and Kumar’s chest aches. He sees Lava’s eyes again, the insistence in them, the earnest trust. They are wet and inviting, lovely and dark.
Kumar rips his hand from himself and crumbles in the creaking office chair. His hands find his face again, and he sobs. It triggers an implosion, a release of a different kind of pressure. His tears are miserable and wet, flat against his trembling palms.
Kumar lets go of his dream, crushed under the weight of his reality. He fills the office with sobs and whimpers, defeated by the radiating love of a man he can’t have.
“Will she be here tonight?” Jai shouts above the clamor of drunk men.
The canteen is full this month, full of eager men and backdoor toddy. The smell in the air is spicy, weighted with musk and laughter. Jai aggressively taps the new barrel and shoves it up into the raised bed of the bar. The villagers are impatient, their enthusiasm illuminated by the firelight that hangs from the ceiling.
“She’s here! Getting dressed.” Kusa yells over the bedlam of drumbeats. Jai rotates the toothpick he chews in his mouth and grunts.
“It’s a party!” Kusa exclaims, and the men around him cheer.
Cherry appears behind the bar, his cheetah-print jacket slumped past his shoulders. The thin straps of his vest are drawn tight, pulled sensuously around his body. Jai’s hard expression softens, and he grabs a small glass. Kusa scoffs, shoving a small baggie of toddy into the corner of his mouth to tear it. Jai ignores his brother’s intoxication and prepares a drink for Cherry.
“Tell her not to change money here!” Jai warns. Kusa’s face scrunches, then laughs at the implication.
“We’re already paying her.“ Jai grumbles. “If she wants to fuck a rich Br-Br-Brahmin, that’s nothing to do with us.”
“She doesn’t do that.” Kusa scoffs. “It’s just a song!”
The men around Kusa laugh, waiting for their drinks. Jai rolls his eyes before handing Cherry his drink and correcting his pinched face. Jai shows Kasi how to tap and pour, unwilling to play barkeep all night.
“Are we going to dance?” Cherry asks sweetly, sipping his toddy and fluttering his lashes. Jai huffs, wiping his hands on a rag.
“We danced three times today.” Jai whispers and leans in close to nip at Cherry’s ear. Cherry laughs, letting the sound end on a screech. Jai composes himself, pulling back. The men are drunk and won’t notice them, but he’s still wary, protective of their intimacy.
Kusa lets out a long, annoyed sound, and the men around him mimic his disgust, unaware of the trigger. Chitti bounces up behind them to participate.
“She’s ready! She’s ready!” Chitti exclaims and drags Kusa to the dance floor.
Cherry and Jai watch the dazzle queen from the makeshift bar, cheering Kusa and Chitti’s impressive dance moves. Jai manages a laugh or two at their wild movements, enjoying the ease of the event. Lava eventually joins Jai and Cherry, sipping on his lime soda.
“This is fun!” Lava smiles, his cheeks tinged pink from the humidity. Cherry tries to smile in his direction, but Lava only blushes awkwardly, still hesitant to understand Cherry’s place in Jai’s life.
“Do you like the work, Jai?” Lava points his eyes at the tapped barrels of toddy, trying to sound supportive. Jai hums.
“It’s easy. Something to do for now.” Jai feels Cherry’s hand squeeze his upper arm. He understands the signal. He knows they are both trying to be supportive, but it still makes him uncomfortable.
Jai’s assistance with how the canteen functions is just that, assistance. Connecting the men who managed events with better distributors in Odisha was easy. He had promised Lava it was legal, and it was. It reminds him of his administrative work in Lanka, minus the aggression and danger. Every two weeks he ensures delivery is accurate and prompt while overlooking the events. Sometimes serving drinks.
There’s an additional unsaid responsibility. A demand for pseudo security. Weight to swing around and ensure the men behave when they are drunk. Jai signals that responsibility to Kasi and Shatru and tries not to dwell on this novice network of criminals. Jai doesn’t lead them. They work together, and he contributes. Jai isn’t exceptionally tall or broad, but compared to the skinny men in the village, he’s shaped like Bhima, Viya’s formidable son. Jai knows his body has thickened slightly since coming to Rangasthalam, but Cherry calls it happy weight. That, alongside the twins height, is enough to appear intimidating.
“Well, the drinks are popular.” Lava counters, watching his younger brother dance at the center of the throng of men.
Jai snorts, knowing Kusa’s already had two baggies. Chitti often competes with Kusa’s inebriation, making them an insufferable chore. Jai sighs, anticipating how he will get them both home.
Jai’s worries are interrupted by a sudden halt in the crowd’s movement. A few men shout. Jai hears Kusa’s voice among them and starts his way towards them. He finds a tight circle formed around Kusa and Chitti, with men from the society on the barrier. When Jai reaches close, he hears insults and Kusa’s anxious babbling. Chitti’s friend appears next to Jai, blurting out the details of the conflict.
“They were touching too much.” Mahesh breathes, and anxiety rattles in Jai’s chest.
“You shouldn’t be here!” Sheshu yells, shoving Chitti into Kusa. “Both of you!”
Kusa’s chest visibly swells in anger, and he pushes forward. Chitti holds him, not wanting to escalate things with the current tensions in the village.
“What can you do dancing with our queen?” Sheshu hisses, disgust coloring his expression.
“I know what you are, meetha.” Sheshu whispers the slur through clenched teeth, and Kusa lunges. This time Chitti yanks him back, pushing forward to punch Sheshu himself.
It’s a wild shuffle of violence. Kusa gets lost behind Sheshus’ men as they rush Chitti. He calls out and reaches for his lover, anger warring with concern. Chitti manages a kick and one more hit to Sheshu’s ear before being pulled down. Kusa finds a way to jump in, wild with fury and fear. Jai’s strong hand stops him before he can do any damage.
“Don’t be fucking crazy!” Jai hisses, and Cherry pushes himself between Kusa and the fight, defensive and rigid. There’s movement again, and Cherry is shoved by aggressive hands.
“Rey!” Jai bellows, tugging Kusa behind him to push in. His deep voice halts the men in their excitement, quieting the entire canteen to sudden silence. Jai pulls at his brother and Cherry gently, standing protectively between them and the society. Chitti barks, yanking himself from someone’s grip and stumbling to the ground.
“You’ll pay for that, rat.” Sheshu yells, clutching his bloody nose.
Chitti rushes to stand, scooped up by Kusa. Sheshu’s men reassure their leader with grumbling insults. They take a moment to eye the men, measuring their advantage. With a strong stare from Jai, they count their losses and limp away. Jai stays fixed in his stance, his rigid muscles locked in a protective pose. Cherry’s hands eventually pet him into moving, wanting to go home.
Chitti, bruised and upset, pulls from Kusa, leaving the canteen in a huff.
The night ends at the Chelluboina home. The warm glow of porch lamps welcomes a wild smattering of emotions. On the dirt path, Jai tries to quiet Kusa and Chitti, who continue to go back and forth, enraged with the society and then each other. They bicker about the fight, not entirely angry but not entirely above blaming each other. Chitti’s parents hear the commotion regardless and come out to fuel their dramatics.
Jai and Cherry keep a respectable distance outside of the fence while Chitti and Kusa clamber into the yard. Kanthamma cups Chitti’s face and weeps, babying his wounds with dramatic exclamations. His father reprimands him with a wag of his finger, patriarchal and effective. Chitti’s parents treat Kusa equally. As much as they worry about his involvement with Chitti, they still see him as someone close to the family, someone young and sweet, like their son. Kusa gets his ear pinched for fighting and a stern word from Koteswar about drunken behavior.
Cherry tugs on Jai’s elbow, not feeling comfortable enough to interject in their family dynamic. It’s only been a few days since their reunion, and while Cherry is happy to know them, he still feels alien to how families function. Jai understands, and they turn to leave, nearly colliding with an exasperated Lava.
“Is Kusa hurt!?” Lava asks. “Kasi said they—”
Lava stops when he turns to see the theatrics dying down. His brother looks safe if annoyed, and Chitti looks cared for. Lava sighs, the anxiety draining from him.
“They can’t do that.” Lava says to himself, already informed of their behavior. Jai hums, agreeing.
“You p-pushed for this election.” Jai counters, knowing the society is emboldened against Chitti’s family because of Kumar. Lava’s face wilts, and Jai immediately regrets the accusation.
Cherry pulls on Jai’s arm again, trying his best to hide behind his lover’s wide body. Jai sways his head, agreeing.
“We will figure it out.” Jai sighs, trying to apologize for his harsh words. Lava smiles tightly, exhausted with worry. Jai and Cherry turn from the gate, heading down the path that leads them to their home. Lava turns again to his younger brother and motions for him.
“Let’s go home, Kush.” Lava calls out. Kusa turns with a flushed face and bright eyes, his cheeks squished between Kanthamma’s soft hands.
“There’s dinner here!” Kusa exclaims, and Lava huffs.
“We already had din—” Lava stops. He clamps his mouth shut as Chitti’s older brother rushes from the house, Chinni in tow. Lava’s hands clench the brittle wood of the fence, frozen with embarrassment.
Kumar calls to his brother but is interrupted by a torrent of complaints. Chitti explains the fight to his family, and Kusa interjects periodically to correct him. Kumar seems to sigh in relief, laughing at their elated explanations, imagining far worse. Kumar moves to follow his family as they push their way into the house, but his smile fades, spotting Lava beyond the yard.
They can both see each other, two anxious shapes trying to hide under moonlight. Kumar’s eyes adjust, straining to make out Lava’s despondent expression. Firelight reflects milky skin and deep eyes. It hurts Kumar to see him, handsome and gentle. Lava’s face heats, recognizing Kumar’s adoring gaze. He looks away, shy and upset, before moving to leave.
“L-Lava.” Kumar calls, his voice soft. “Wait.”
Lava takes in a shaky breath and stops, still clutching the fence. Kumar meets him with the sweet murmurs of his worried mother behind him. The Chelluboina family acts like a lantern, a glowing lighthouse, ready to welcome their secret conflict with disgust and intolerance.
Kumar’s back shields them, insistent to speak to Lava regardless. His hand finds the fence and rests next to Lava’s, challenging his apprehension. The wood is old, withered by heat and humidity, generations of palms and rain. When it’s squeezed, Kumar hears tiny cracks, reminding him of his strength. It grounds him and gives him the resolve to speak.
“I wanted to apologize.” Kumar watches Lava wince and rushes to explain.
“I didn’t know that Padma—she surprised me that night. She wanted to be there for me. We’ve known each other for a long—”
“Kumar—” Lava interrupts, his voice thin and exhausted.
“I’m sorry.” Kumar finishes weakly. “Perhaps we could—I want us to be friends.”
Lava watches their hands on the fence, how close they are to touching. Kumar breathes, his heart treading a thin line, pulled taut like steel wire. Lava’s face shifts, and an expression curtains his emotions, something cold and guarded. Kumar’s heart burns with regret and the returning rush of guilt. This is broken. I broke it. I was naive to think I could fix it. Kumar prepares to turn away, to surrender to Lava’s sorrow, when Lava’s face changes again.
Kumar’s difficult emotions ease when Lava looks up, his eyes softer, a warm smile pushing at his cheeks. Relief washes over Kumar’s body. This can work. This will be enough. Kumar can marry Padma, and Lava’s friendship will sustain him, keeping him whole. He will love his wife and be faithful, and he will put Lava’s bridled devotion into a box. A pocket he will keep closed and close, something to marvel at periodically when it aches.
Lava’s eyes turn wet as they scan Kumar’s relief. Tears tumble down patiently, glistening like glass in the moonlight.
“No.” Lava whispers.
Kumar’s heart shatters. The shards are enveloped in tar, sinking to the depths of his deficiency. He moves when Lava does, desperate to change his mind.
“W-Why? Why not? Lava—” Kumar’s voice cracks. He wants to reach out, to pull Lava to his chest, to rip away this fence between them. It’s a wild and hopeless dream, contradictory to his actions and words. Stay with me. Stay.
“Because I love you.” Lava whispers, his lips trembling. The inky fragments of Kumar’s heart turn to thorns, piercing the inside of his lungs, making it hard to breathe.
Lava watches Kumar for a moment. Not out of patience, but to give his declaration space to sting. When he’s satisfied, he pulls his hand from the fence and walks away.
Leaving Kumar alone with his moonlight.
Chapter 24: Antah Asti Prarambh
Summary:
Families come in all different shapes and sizes.
Chapter Text
Dharani hears the soft rustle of fabric and the silence of an early morning. He shifts gently around limbs and downy hair. It’s Vennela, sleeping soundly next to him, and the disturbance around them is Suri, getting up for the day. Dharani makes a sound, a protest. Suri laughs at his childish objection, amused at how quickly sunlight can irritate Dharani.
“Sleep, Naa Praanam. I need to get started.” Suri whispers and puts a warm hand to Dharani’s curls. “Don’t wake our girls.”
Dharani sniffs, opening his eyes to check the three small bundles next to Vennela. They sleep like little frogs, their limbs stretched out and tangled in thin fabric. Dharani hums, a confirmation of his family’s safety. He curls around the four of them, brushing back errant hair when Suri kisses their crowns. The two men offer each other silent goodbyes, farewells to the pitch night, and farewells to dreaming. Dharani knows it will be his turn soon. He will need to stretch and sit. To leave the warm embrace of his family. It will be his sacrifice to the sun’s new light, thin and pious to his demanding responsibilities.
Dharani sleeps only a little while longer. Vennela’s hand finds his hair and pushes gently.
“Come, Kuchi.” Vennela’s voice is a soft rasp in the morning, beautiful and endearing. Dharani fakes a complaint, pinching his face and stretching.
“Your hungry little girls are waiting.” Vennela teases, and Dharani opens his eyes to three squirming children. They climb and paw at their parents, giggling with a vitality Dharani remembers from his childhood, replaced long ago by the obligation of survival and an ache in his back. His children have only been alive for five years but are fast and sure with their demands.
“Amma, Amma!” The youngest whines, her face already pinched in frustration. Her sisters laugh and pull at their parents’ remaining lethargy. Vennela clicks her tongue and pulls her body from insisting hands, a teasing affront to their impatience.
“Hmm. Let your mother wake up.” Dharani’s voice is deep in the morning. The three girls still, their eyes wide at their father’s instruction. Dharani reaches for the youngest child, holding her delicate cheek in his palm.
“Help Baba with the eggs.”
Little bodies expand in excitement, with wide eyes and unconstrained laughter. The girls detangle themselves from the family bedding and rush quickly to find their father and their chickens. Dharani watches their urgency and bolts up before they disappear.
“Shoes!” Dharani’s voice is encouraging but amused.
Three bodies turn back, wiggling and competitive. Three pairs of little feet find their thongs and then scramble out in a wild cloud of giggles and plaits.
“Thank you.” Vennela laughs. They smile at each other, understanding the burden they’ve just sent Suri’s way.
Vennela is beautiful under early morning light. It makes Dharani blush, and that makes his wife laugh harder. Vennela holds Dharani’s cheek in her hand when she kisses him. Her fingers find his ear like they always do. She tugs on it gently, and her lips press against his in a pattern. One, two, three small kisses and a playful rub of her nose. Dharani grunts when she ends her affection with a playful smack.
“Up, Pedda, help me cook.”
Suri emerges into the home with his biceps flexed. He holds them out like anchors, and three giggling girls hang from him like porch charms. They dangle and laugh, using their father like a tree. He growls and swings, prompting Vennela to reprimand him with a swat of her ladle.
“Be careful!” Venella fails to hide her smile, and Dharani laughs next to her. He crowds his daughters as they tumble off of Suri and mimics a tiger’s growl when he embraces them. Suri catches his breath and hands his wife the egg basket off his arm.
The home is filled with high-pitched giggling and the aroma of idli, sour and warm. Suri kisses his wife, and she snaps her teeth playfully. The house swells with affection in the morning. Suri turns back to Dharani and the children to dote.
“Janvi pulled three.” Suri wraps his arms around Vennela and teasingly dips a finger into idli batter. Dharani’s expression warms at the news, and he turns to their eldest.
“I did.” Janvi says shyly, clasping her hands together.
“I got one!” Their youngest squeals, never shy in exclaiming her accomplishments. Dharani smiles at both Janvi and Jeeva, prompting his third child to look guilty.
“None.” Jyoty sighs, her voice tiny through the gaps in her teeth. Suri looks over and clicks his tongue at her disappointment. Dharani soothes her with his hands.
“The last ones are fussed up.” Suri explains. “—Angry at your sisters for taking their eggs. Next time, Chinnu.”
Jyoty sways her small head at her father’s encouragement and dissolves into giggles when Dharani crowds her with kisses. They banter for a while with the children while Vennela cooks. They talk about chickens and chores, and the girls do their best impressions of farm animals. Eventually they eat, and eventually it’s time for everyone to get started with their day.
Vennela occupies herself with getting her daughters dressed. She unties the wild plaits of each girl to re-braid them, sitting each one in her lap for a brushing. Suri details his responsibilities with the coming harvest and managing their cattle. He tenses for a moment at the thought of getting started but steels himself and smiles. Dharani matches the expression, mentally preparing his cart and cashbox. They both kiss Vennela, and when they try to say goodbye to their daughters, the little girls whine.
“No! No! No!” Jyoty yells, wiggling with her hair in her mother’s hands. She reaches out for Dharani as he tries to inch his way out the door. Their fathers sway their heads disapprovingly at the sudden tantrums. Vennela yanks gently on Jyoty’s plait, fastening the last grip with a snap.
“Alphabet today!” She reminds them. “—and then Rangamma.”
The girls whine again, unhappy with the threat of schoolwork. Vennela huffs and smiles at her husbands, who are still trying to leave. The brush in Vennela’s hand pauses, hovering in anticipation. She eyes her girls playfully, hinting at a secret.
“Rangamma’s neighbor found puppies.” She whispers between the girls, and they gasp in excitement.
Both men take the loud celebration as permission to sneak out. They part ways at the entrance, focused on their work. Dharani loads his cart with the milk Suri drew that morning and readies the ass to pull. He watches as Suri lifts the yoke over their ox, prepping for the mid-year plough. Half of their farmland is dry, while the other half is wet for paddies. The rice is nearly ready, fat and clean, but the dry soil has been stubborn. The corn came up skinny, but Suri says it might be happier with mustard and fenugreek in the winter.
Dharani watches Suri, his strong body, and how easily he lifts and carries out farm work. He has always been a little envious of his childhood friend, handsome and capable in everything he does. There was a time when it broke his heart. When his affections for Vennela were a threat to their friendship. Not to mention the confusing feelings Dharani felt for Suri.
That feels so long ago now, a distant life that he struggles to reconcile with the one he lives now. Dharani shakes himself of dark memories. Things are different now. They don’t live in that village anymore, suffocating on coal dust and unsaid truths. They are together now. They are a family.
Vennela and the children step outside, coming to give Dharani a proper send-off. He smiles again, bright and wide, as they wave their small hands in his direction. He waves and steps up to his cart. He watches as Suri joins them, wiping his hands on a rag. Suri smiles at Dharani and then kisses Vennela on her cheek playfully.
Dharani can’t help the pang of jealousy that pierces his heart. He knows Suri will be too busy to spend time with Vennela and the girls, but he will hear their small voices singing from the home, and Vennela will bring him a drink and a kiss. Dharani will be alone in the market. He sometimes brings the girls with him, but it would be selfish to take them today. They need to stay with their mother and learn, to grow up educated and strong, and to do better things with their lives than he could. He reminds himself again of the love he has, of how good this life has been to him. It settles old sorrows, and Dharani cracks his whip. The ass jolts forward, and Dharani waves again, saying goodbye to happy smiles.
It’s early when Dharani gets his first customer. Cherry. The young man comes with a smile and a number of orders for various neighbors. Dharani is still unsure what Cherry’s job is in the village. Some days he runs errands, and some days he’s locked away with his family in the new theater center. He seems to come and go as he pleases, taking random tasks and making a day of them. The only consistent thing seems to be he often carries a snack with him, chewing and searching for his next stop. Today he is buying milk.
“Four for Chelluboina, three for me, one for Rangamma, and two for—” Cherry flips the small note he clutches in his hands, having to stretch to rest his arms on Dharani’s high stall. Cherry’s face pinches for a minute, hesitant to finish the order.
“Two for Drithi.” Cherry says sheepishly.
Dharani understands Cherry’s hesitation. He breathes through his nose and pauses. Dharani keeps tabs. Often Cherry will deliver to older people in the village, those that can’t visit the market every day. Most of them prepay for a daily supply, fresh and cheaper than the dairy offered by The Society. The villagers pay a flat fee upfront, and Dharani will settle anything over or under at the end of the week, taking new payments for the next.
Drithi and her family haven’t settled in two weeks. Dharani knows why. The Society took their land, and her husband is a drunk. But the baby needs milk, and Dharani has milk to give them. It serves as a frustrating compass. Dharani EVENTUALLY sways his head in defeat, and Cherry’s shoulders sag in relief. He smiles widely as Dharani preps the order, filling bags and sealing them with a hot clamp he ordered from the city.
Cherry tries to fill the empty space with nervous laughter and strange comments. It’s a bit uncomfortable for Dharani. He doesn’t dislike the conversation. It’s just always a bit unfamiliar to him. Cherry behaves like a teenager sometimes, shy and unsure. He makes mistakes when speaking, using words that don’t follow how others in the village speak. His accent is softer, and he misunderstands slang. Vennela told Dharani that Cherry had lived in a children’s prison for nearly his entire life. It makes Dharani feel guilty for finding the younger man so odd.
Cherry also sends signals. Dharani isn’t sure if Cherry knows he’s doing it, but the messages are obvious. Dharani and Cherry share interests. They indulge in a leaning toward connections that most people would disapprove of. Cherry’s behavior is different from most men. Most men look down and uninterested. Cherry smiles, his eyes linger, and color under his cheeks paints his intentions. These parts of Cherry are familiar, reminders to Dharani of past affections, of Suri and careful flirtations. It’s uncomfortable. It’s public and foolish. Dharani feels narrow-minded for it, overprotective of his devotions, regardless of Cherry’s own commitments.
Dharani knows Cherry and Jai are fucking, despite how often they call each other platonic endearments. But what’s stranger is, they live with other men just like them. The village whispers about Chitti and Kusa, how they are always together, always touching. Lava is scrutinized just as often for his personality and his softness. It all makes Dharani’s concern expand and turn into a weight to carry. His family came to this village to blend in and stay safe, to raise their children unnoticed. But with so much queerness around, with so many unconventional households serving particulars, will they too be found out?
Cherry clicks his tongue, interrupting Dharani’s thoughts. He packs the bags of milk gently, and Dharani catches pale scars on umber knuckles. He remembers the tale of a children’s prison, the rumors about Jai’s past, and the whispered stories of violence. Cherry doesn’t look nervous to be himself, to protect what he loves. He walks through the village with misplaced confidence. He’s strong and endlessly kind to his neighbors. Dharani’s perception shifts, and kindness makes room for faith. He smiles at Cherry, attempting an unspoken apology for his racing thoughts. He wants to believe he is capable of strength too. Cherry can fight. Suri and I can fight. We will be okay.
“—They are with me until you are finished.” Cherry’s voice rings through Dharani’s contemplation. Cherry looks up, repeating himself in response to Dharani’s confusion.
“Your girls.” Cherry laughs. “Vennela dropped them with me earlier, and Lava is watching them while I run milk. You can stop by?”
Dharani sways his head with a tight smile. He trusts Cherry with the girls. They love him, but he’s never met Lava. He does his best to trust Vennela’s judgement but muses on it anxiously.
“I’m going home now.” Cherry offers, squinting his eyes at the sun in front of him. He sways a bag of treats at Dharani, implying they are for the children, and smiles a goodbye.
“How many Chinni?” Kusa whispers, his hands gripping the edge of Dharani’s cart. Chitti thinks, his brows turned down in deep thought.
“Cherry came by earlier for your mother.” Dharani offers softly, flattening new bags and weighting them against the wind with a rock.
The two of them look up at Dharani with round eyes, wonderous and silly like children. This also makes Dharani uncomfortable. They always seem lost with each other, unaware of how loud their personalities are and how terrible they are at maintaining modesty. He knows they are good men, but quite often they are better described as boys.
The two can’t seem to decide what to buy. As Chitti thinks, his eyes scan the rest of the market. Dharani can feel their interest waning, eyeing other food carts to spend their few coins on. Dharani sighs. He lifts the lid on his small freezer. Suri had helped him attach the battery, but it will only last for a few more hours. He supposes these two are the best to reveal his new product to. Dharani reaches in and pulls out a steel mold. Chitti’s face lights up, recognizing the treats immediately.
“Kulfi!” Kusa exclaims, his hands reaching for his small purse on instinct. Chitti smiles wide, his hair bouncing with his excited movements. They pay for two sticks and lap at them like puppies. Dharani’s daughters had approved of his recipe beforehand, but he looks to his customers for the final verdict. They hum together and crunch on pistachio bits before swaying their heads happily, pleased with their decision. Dharani smiles and arranges their payment in his cashbox, hoping he can afford to pick up new bangles for tiny ankles.
As usual, Chitti and Kusa linger with their food, poking at Dharani for gossip or free milk. He humors them for a while, helping other customers as the two men loiter next to him. They are harmless, really, only earning a little anger when they get too rowdy with his daughters.
“You missed our dazzle queen again!” Kusa blurts, cream brushed on his mustache. Chitti wipes at Kusa’s face with a napkin, and the messy fool huffs at the attention.
Dharani tries to occupy himself with the other customers, ignoring Kusa’s continual prodding. The canteen isn’t somewhere Dharani wants to visit. He has a wife and small children at home. He is a husband and a father, not a man who drinks and dances with strange women. The canteen is a temptation, an unnecessary indulgence that could ruin all the hard work he’s done since Veerlapalli.
“My girls are too small.” Dharani argues, but Kusa laughs.
“They stay home! You and Suri next time! Come with us!” Kusa bumps against the cart playfully and sways as people push past him. Kusa doesn’t understand. He sees married men at the canteen every week, there to complain about their wives and steal a touch from the hired performer. It’s sweet in a way, an innocence that manifests itself from his pure intentions. Kusa visits to have fun and dance with Chitti, not to objectify or to drown sorrows in swill. Kusa wants to persist, confused as to why Dharani can’t join. Chitti, however, isn’t foolish enough to ignore Dharani’s souring expression. He tugs on Kusa, convincing him to follow. They leave together, Kusa shouting about a different food stand he wants to spend his money at.
Dharani deflates with relief. He’s been avoiding the canteen since they’ve moved to Rangasthalam. It’s been difficult, but he’s been diligent. Dharani remembers the terrible months in Veerlapalli. When he feared for his family’s safety. Alcohol had often comforted him, but sobriety on the night of Suri’s wedding had saved his life. He can’t think of where the three of them would be if he had chosen to sink under, slow and blind to the dangers around them. The universe had spared Dharani and his family that night, and he chose to heed its warnings. His small family left Chinna Nambi & his silk bar for a better future, to find a place where nobody knew them or asked questions. To find a new home.
The three of them traveled from town to town, taking odd jobs to feed each other. They thought they had found a place to settle, and something would fall apart—a job, a home, a disgruntled neighbor suspicious of their relationship. They would find a new village, and it would fall apart again. A few times it was Dharani’s fault, slipping on his weakness and drinking himself out of employment. Suri would get angry, Vennela would cry, and Dharani would try again. The cycle changed when Vennela became sick, when her flat stomach started to round.
Vennela’s pregnancy solidified a change in Dharani. He will have children to feed. Not just one but three. Triplets. Three little mouths and three little hearts that will have nothing if Dharani fails them. Not a cent can go towards alcohol. Not a cent derailed from milk and rice. Vennela’s pregnancy was a hard-earned boon, an auspicious gift that Dharani promised not to waste. He needed to work and to keep working. Suri’s strength rose alongside Dharani’s, and he joined in that promise. They were going to become a real family and find a real home. They saved and continued to bounce between villages, this time with higher standards, looking for a place for their children. Dharani still feels guilty for the instability, raising their daughters in a cart half of the time. But Rangasthalam came like a dream, affordable and bright with happy people to welcome them into the community.
Surprisingly, the villagers weren’t nosy. They seemed wrapped up in their own political dramatics. It had worried the three of them at first, remembering the tension in their own village, but this didn’t concern them. Dharani and Suri kept to themselves, and Vennela made careful friendships with women in the village. There seems to be hope for a life here, for peace and comfort, if they are careful enough. Dharani only worries about how long that can last. Tensions are rising, and the men at Cherry’s home are testing their allowances.
Dharani wants to believe this village is safe. He wants the farm to do well, but no village is worth the risk. If they have to pack up in the night and leave again, they will.
Suri sighs. The pathetic corn stalk droops and whimpers at having its fruit plucked. Suri tosses the thin cob and reminds himself they can use it for feed. He has already accepted the failed harvest, but the leftover reminders frustrate him. Their livelihood sits with the rice now. All that’s left to do is re-till the earth and hope winter crops will catch.
Still, Suri worries. His children need to eat, and Dharani and Vennela rely on him to provide. He knows they both bring in money, but they shouldn’t have to. This new home, this farm, is so they can have more, so his children can go to school and not have to worry. It’s what Suri always wanted for himself. It’s what he promised he’d give his family.
Suri takes in a deep breath, smelling the soil and the sting of the animals. His family is worth making mistakes for, worth the worry and exhaustion. Vennela watches their daughters meticulously, and Dharani spends every day in the market. Their love demands this of him. He can’t do anything less than everything for them.
Suri smiles when he remembers when that love was young. When Vennela was only a girl and he and Dharani were foolish. He remembers how their love intertwined, whether he realized it then or not. He remembers their wedding night, fire and flowers and blood. Those memories give him strength now. Vennela’s conviction and endurance, Dharani’s sobriety and earnest effort. Their love is more powerful than a stubborn harvest.
Suri tosses the withered stalk in his hand and stands, surveying the grounds under a bright sun. He catches a figure in the distance and straightens.
“Hey!” The figure waves, its shape round and struggling. Suri’s hackles rise as he recognizes the man walking towards him. He sighs again, but this time from annoyance.
“It’s a sunny day! Good for farming.” Sheshu laughs, his tone less kind than Suri is comfortable with.
Sheshu eyes Suri’s pile of thin corn and grunts. The ox lows alongside him, and Suri can’t help his amusement at the comparison.
“No improvement, I see.” Sheshu’s sigh lacks empathy, and Suri squints at the sun behind him. Sheshu has to look up at Suri when he speaks and does so awkwardly. Suri is used to that kind of apprehension—small men who value power and control but always seem to lack it.
“The Society is still here if—” Sheshu starts, but Suri stops him.
“We are fine with what we have.” Suri rebuts the offer and wipes at his brow. “—But thank you.”
Sheshu’s face pinches, his true intentions peaking through. He steps forward, nudging the failed crop with his foot.
“The ground here won’t grow.” Sheshu’s tone changes, sounding low and mean. “Why do you think the land was so cheap? Our loans can give you what you need. We can negotiate with other farmers, get you rich soil, and—”
“No.” Suri’s voice is stern, his eyes hard. “Thank you.”
Sheshu’s lips twist. He lets out a warning before he leaves, one Suri decides to ignore, inviting the melody of his memories to deafen superficial threats.
The sun is gentle in the afternoon. Dharani’s stall did well today. All of the kulfi sold, and most of the milk is gone. He packs up his cart quickly, eager to get to his daughters and take them home. Eager to see Suri and Vennela and hold them before sleep.
When Dharani arrives at the Nidumolu home, most of the men who live with Cherry are in the yard. Dharani rides his cart close and does his best to park it out of anyone’s way. The girls are running around the garden, chasing insects and pulling at flowers. He watches them explore, a wild little disturbance that brings light wherever they smile. Chitti and Kusa call to them and laugh, encouraging their excitement and curiosity.
Dharani notices Jai watching the children strangely, apprehensive and a little sad. The implications stack in Dharani’s mind. His children are triplets, and so are the three Nidumolu brothers. It’s strange that it makes the eldest sad. It makes Dharani protective, wanting to get his daughters away from Jai, away from confusing emotions. Dharani calls out, walking to the gate and adjusting the band tied around his head.
“Chinni’s!” Dharani’s voice is light and raspy from little use, but his girls hear it clearly and jump in excitement. They run to their father in a rush of giggles and plaits. Dharani can’t help the wide smile and warmth that rushes through him. Seeing their happiness never gets old. He groans when they collide into him, hugging and squealing.
He is grateful they don’t refer to him with endearments. He, Vennela, and Suri don’t reprimand them for it. That would feel wrong, but they need to keep their love for each other isolated, protected within their little family. The children are still too young to understand, but as they get older it may become harder to hide. Dharani remembers when they were born, how concerned both of their fathers were for their safety, and the whispers of strangers. There doesn’t seem to be danger here, but Dharani keeps himself alert, untrusting enough to be cautious.
After saying hello and hugging, Dharani moves to thank Cherry for watching them. The younger man stops him and starts to wave his hand.
“Vennela says go home.” Cherry chirps. “To grab Suri and come for dinner! They can stay and get washed at Rangamma’s.”
The little girls take the information in quickly and squeal, running back to Kusa and Chitti for more attention. Dharani feels the emptiness of his arms in annoyance. He stretches his neck toward Rangamma’s home and scratches at his head. The girls are already occupied with something new, so he sways his head reluctantly and returns to his cart.
Dharani feels silly when his heart aches at having to part from his daughters, their laughter ringing behind him.
The three women in Rangamma’s home put down the food they’ve been prepping and wait patiently on the floor. Their laps are filled with onion skins and various husks, fluttering around like feathers, tickling their feet. The women watch as one of Vennela’s small daughters stands, mustering her courage amidst the vegetation, timid to express herself.
“Show them. Show them, beautiful girl.” Vennela pushes Jeeva’s back gently.
The small girl stands shyly, holding her hands clasped close. The smiles from Rangamma and Ramalakshmi encourage her to position her hands near her hips. She remembers the mudra her mother showed her and points her feet outward. The first gentle stomp of her foot elicits happy noises from the women around her. Jeeva smiles and laughs in a huff. Her sisters watch with delighted giggles as their sibling goes through the few moves their mother taught them. Jeeva is shy but seems to be the best at taking instruction. The women around the girls clap and dote on Jeeva when she finishes, pleased to see the traditional dance passed down.
“Beautiful, Chinna!” Ramalakshmi touches Jeeva’s cheek as she burrows into her mother’s lap, shy from the praise. Ramalakshmi scrunches her face at Jeeva’s sisters. “All of you! Beautiful girls!”
The triplets laugh and release themselves from their mother’s saree, finding the various toys Rangamma laid out for them. There’s a gentle separation, and the women resume their food prep.
“Triplets must be such a handful, and they’re your first.” Rangamma asks with a softness she reserves for women only, especially mothers.
“It’s easier when Suri and Dharani are home.” Vennela pinches her lips, reprimanding herself for speaking too freely. “But our family is small. It’s a blessing to have you both.”
Both women respond with smiles, their eyes bright and suspicions reserved.
“Suri is wonderful with them.” Ramalakshmi offers gently.
“I chose him.” Vanella boasts, “I had to practically twist my mother to agree. But it was something I wanted, so now I have it.”
The women laugh with Vennela at her confidence. It’s a warm moment, something easier and safer than the timid frequency of how they are expected to behave around men. Rangamma’s home is a good place to be. This village is a good place to be.
The joy eases into lighter conversations, gossip, and food. Lentils are soaked, and greens are shucked, harmonizing to the slow happenings of a small community. Eventually Rangamma’s soft voice pushes through, surprising her guests by being forward.
“Did you choose Dharani?” Rangamma wipes her hands on her saree, grabbing for more onions.
Vennela’s expression rises and opens, flushed with color in the warmth of Rangamma’s home. Small strands of hair rise from her scalp, eager to drink from the humidity, perhaps trying to escape the questions. Ramalakshmi keeps her smile comfortable and disarming. Vennela swallows, weighing how far this measure of safety can stretch.
“Suri’s love was a bursting. Like water.” Vennela blushes, turning her eyes to her children. “Dharani is a flower. Shy and hidden. You have to be patient.”
The women smile at each other, a tenuous moment cooled to temperate. It invokes soft memories. Dharani’s stilted confession, brave and wild. The last thing either she or Suri expected to hear on their wedding night. Even more shocking, it was for both of them. Dharani had trembled through it, tears streaming down his round cheeks. It had frightened Vennela at first, perhaps even disgusted her, but Suri had remained composed and curious.
Suri took Dharani away. He told Vennela to wait, to try to understand. That night was terrible, a collision of possible paths. That night carried karma and dharma intertwined, indistinguishable from each other. Magically, Dharani and Suri had returned Vennela whole, safe, and covered in blood. Dharani had saved Suri, a panting swing of a weapon and love beating in his heart. They had returned to her.
Their reunion rushed through them, strange and unmeasurable. It was earnest and filled with recognition. They could feel its pulse between them, strong and vibrant. So, Vennela kissed Dharani. She knew him. She’s known him since she was a child, and she loved him. It was an embarrassing realization—why so sudden and so different from what she understood about herself? So, Vennela kissed Suri. She knew him. She’s known him since she was a child, and she loved him. She loved them both.
Vennela and the men she loved left that night. They ran together, seeking sanctuary, points of light under darkness. It hurt all of them to leave their families behind, but staying would be unsafe. Men died that night, and men were still out there, waiting to find them. When they found a place to sleep, under starlight, Suri built a small fire, and Dharani took Vennela’s hand to walk a circle.
“I can’t wait to fall in love.” Ramalakshmi whispers, and Rangamma hums with annoyance.
“Look for a flower. The rest of them are weeds.” Vennela laughs and tosses dal at the women. Vennela’s daughters laugh at the play but stay with their toys.
“And your husband? A thick root?” Vennela teases, but her smile fades at Rangamma’s changing expression. The older woman’s eyes find her husband’s portrait, and a sorrow fills them. She tries to smile to hide her distress, but her whispered response gives her away.
“My Ramprasad? Malli puvvu.”
Dharani’s home is on the edge of the village. The farmland isn’t substantial, but it has proved to be enough to feed them, with enough left to sell to their neighbors. They do have neighbors, older couples who keep to themselves, quiet at the end of their lives. Suri’s cattle give milk for the market, and Vannela teaches when she’s needed at the small school in the village.
Dharani arrives, and the ass brays, signalling to Suri somewhere in the pasture. Dharani ties up the cart, unloading leftover milk for the animals. He can already see Suri coming in from the field. He raises his hand and squints his eyes against the low sun. Dharani smiles, used to simple hellos from his childhood friend. They walk to each other, meeting at the small water basin in the yard.
“Where are the girls?” Suri asks, splashing water on his face, panting from the heat.
Dharani explains Vennela’s dinner plans, and Suri hums, turning to look at their outdoor shower. He turns back to study Dharani and then himself, calling to the dirt and sweat they’re both covered in. Suri smiles when Dharani shrugs. He notches his head toward the shower, the implication clear. Dharani turns to look around, scanning his surroundings for neighbors. When Dharani decides that it’s safe, he reluctantly follows Suri for a wash.
The outside shower was built by Suri, a simple hose and showerhead. The pressure is aggressive but a cool reprieve from the afternoon heat. The children love it, dancing under its spray like ducklings. Suri glances around their open yard casually before stripping off his clothing. Dharani huffs at his lack of modesty. He knows their neighbors are a mile off, but Suri’s confidence still makes him anxious. Dharani knows his anxiety can be unnecessary, and he secretly thanks Suri for pushing him into action.
Suri yanks at the wicker door to the shower and playfully tilts his hips to step in. His expression is smug and expectant. He looks to Dharani and motions for him to join. Dharani huffs, amused by the boyish behavior. Dharani parrots Suri’s surveillance of the yard before peeling his own clothing off. They step into the small space together. A shy smile meets a smug grin. Dharani admires Suri’s body as it dips under the spray of water. His arms are strong and wide, large now from the heavy farmwork. Dharani feels a pang of envy, looking down to his softer form, comfortable with easy market work. Suri clicks his tongue, attuned to Dharani’s sour thoughts. He notches his head and rubs at his arms to rinse off the heat of the day.
Dharani steps under the shower carefully. For a moment he entertains respecting the space between them, taking the shower as a wash. Suri dashes that assumption quickly and closes the space between them. He grabs playfully at Dharani and turns him. Dharani stumbles with nervous footing, but Suri’s arms come out to hold him, wrapping around his waist to pet his middle.
“Suri—” Dharani laughs to himself, the blush spreading to his shoulders. Water wets his curls flat, and he relishes in how cool it is, soothing his tired muscles. Suri’s hands continue to pet, curious of Dharani’s body.
Dharani can’t help but flush at the contact. Suri’s hands are rough and warm. They squeeze gently at the soft skin covering Dharani’s hips. Suri’s wide grip is possessive, stronger than he’s aware of. Dharani huffs when Suri’s mouth finds his neck and laves at salty skin before the water can wash away the taste. Suri’s hands are slick as they wander, gliding over Dharani’s skin, encouraged by the pounding water. Dharani’s body heats when he feels Suri push closer, his cock hard and thick against his bottom.
“Priyatama—” Dharani’s voice pinches into a whine. Suri laughs, his breath hot against his husband’s shoulder.
“You’ve had a difficult day too?” Suri’s voice vibrates against Dharani’s ear, water joining the heat of his tongue. “It was so hot today.”
Suri sucks a kiss to Dharani’s earlobe. It’s the same ear Vennela pinches when she kisses him. The attention makes Dharani whimper, frustrated that they both know him so well. Suri’s hand pets Dharani’s belly again and this time reaches down. It encircles Dharani’s cock and strokes, eliciting another moan. Dharan is already filled, his cock tight and fat. The touch is a sudden sensation, a throb at his hips.
Dharani groans, pumping his hips forward. Suri tightens his grip, sliding up and down Dharani’s length slowly, torturing the softer man in his arms. Dharani can feel every touch, every pass of Suri’s strong fingers, his palms rough from work.
“It’s been so long since we’ve been alone.” Suri’s voice strains when he speaks, losing patience. His free hand grips Dharani’s waist tightly, tilting his bottom up for a better angle to thrust against.
“—So long since I’ve fucked you.” Suri’s whispers are molten hot, and Dharani’s cock pulses between his thighs. He groans at the filthy words, his mouth agape, lost in the intoxication of being wanted.
Suri’s beard brushes Dharani’s shoulder, and the coarse sensation is eruptive. A washing heat, flat and insistent. Dharani feels it bloom over his nipples and pool to his belly, determined to find his cock and fill it further.
Suri thrusts softly against Dharani, trying to temper the demands of their desire. Dharani counters with an allowance of space, his body going lax. He pumps his hips forward and back, allowing Suri pliancy to work with. Suri growls, turned on by the submission Dharani gives so easily. His movements become more insistent, charged by his lover’s indulgence. Dharani reaches back for Suri, his fingers flexing lazily. He pulls Suri’s head forward and twists back for a kiss. Suri’s tongue is eager and full, lapping at Dharani’s mouth with a grunt.
Dharani feels wild with Suri, foolish and unabashed. He spreads his stance, giving Suri space to fuck between his thighs. It feels immodest, allowing his body to be used like this, something he’d fantasized about with Suri since they were teenagers. Something he ached for then, desperate for any touch thrown his way. Dharani tempers his heart, reminding himself that the period of longing is over. Suri and Vennela love him now.
Suri matches the passion that boils under the surface of Dharani, often the bridled lover, quiet and concealed. Suri takes his hand from Dharani’s cock and grips both of his hips instead. Suri’s own cock becomes selfish, thick, and impatient as it slides along Dharani’s bottom. The sound of rushing water and slapping skin fills Dharani’s cock further. With Suri’s hand gone, Dharani takes himself and strokes slowly. He wants this frenzy to last, to be drawn out and milked. Suri’s movements stutter, but it’s out of frustration rather than impatience.
“I don’t think we have enough—” Suri huffs, caught between two decisions. He stops his movement with a strong hand on Dharani’s shoulder. He seems to argue inside of himself, pausing, frustrating Dharani into a confused sound.
“Okay.” Suri breathes and moves. Dharani’s arousal dampens, anxious at Suri’s impulsivity.
Suri gets on his knees behind Dharani and handles his body roughly. Dharani wants to resist the sudden change in position, but the anticipation stops him. Suri’s hands pull at his bottom, and Dharani feels a wet, warm tongue. He groans, grabbing the edge of the shower in a tight grip. Suri’s tongue is long and thick, hot against furled skin. Hidden skin, sensitive and rarely touched. It used to embarrass Dharani when he realized how much he enjoyed this, how much he enjoyed Suri’s attention. But now it’s a part of who they are, of how they love each other.
Suri’s tongue is relentless, licking in thick, demanding strokes. Dharani starts to tremble, the swell of arousal stretching as it reaches his pelvis. Suri’s hand finds Dharani’s cock again, and the combined sensations make Dharani stumble. Suri makes a muffled growl and tightens his grip. He knows Dharani is close and tries to hold the base of Dharani’s cock in a vise. Dharani looks down. His cock dribbles thin fluid, flushed and angry at being restricted. Suri makes an amused sound, his mouth still moving despite his still hand. Dharani groans, and his hips begin to thrust back on Suri’s tongue. One of Suri’s palms presses up on Dharani’s balls. The pressure makes his body feel light, almost numb. He can feel himself swaying into each sensation until it bursts. Dharani makes strange sounds, and Suri pulls from behind him in a jerk.
“No!” Suri clicks his tongue in frustration and stands. Against his protests, Suri’s hand starts to move, stroking Dharani quickly. It’s another lovely hypocrisy. A lost and won argument. Don’t cum. Suri laughs, his hand ignoring his internal commands to still, surrendering to his lover’s passion.
“I wanted to fuck you.” The words are muffled into Dharani’s shoulder at the first burst of his orgasm. Dharani moans and trembles, his toes curling under the spray of water.
“Oh no. S-sorry.” Dharani warbles. Suri laughs at the unexpected apology.
Dharani’s orgasm is a strong one. He doesn’t like to compare them, but they feel different with Suri. When it’s just them. It isn’t superior or preferred, just different. Suri is a man. His touch is rough and kindred. It’s friction and masculinity, a lust Dharani knows from instinct. And Suri is right. It’s been so long.
Relief rushes through Dharani, and his cock throbs. Each push of Suri’s hips, each pull of his hand, draws out a new wave of pleasure. From Dharani’s toes to his cheeks, the sensations are overwhelming. He can hear himself making wild sounds. He can feel Suri kiss him. His mouth turns lax against Suri’s tongue, his nipples peaked and pulled at. Each touch draws out more, and they both watch as long, heavy ropes find the stone platform under their feet. Suri’s hand continues to move, eventually slowing down to a loving massage. Suri sucks a kiss on Dharani’s neck and laves his tongue there. His cock still pressed close, hard and heavy. They stand still and pant, Suri ignoring his needs to give Dharani room to deflate. Touch feels different now, slow and gentle. Dharani can feel every ridge and imprint on Suri’s skin. They feel closer, radiating unspoken love between their bodies.
“Hey!” Vennela’s voice startles them both, sweet and light with amusement.
Suri moves slowly to rest his arms on the wall of the shower and greet her. He hides his cock playfully, knowing she will sense his arousal regardless. Vennela walks up to them from afar and puts her hands on Suri’s playfully, reprimanding them with a pinch of her nose. Suri’s hand finds the shower and twists it off, dripping from his lips and mustache, attractive when wet. Dharani only sways and smiles, too lost in his afterglow to be concerned. Venella huffs at their brashness, resting her cheeks on her hands in a pout.
“Without me?”
Suri laughs brightly, flashing his white teeth in a wide smile. Vennela remembers suddenly how much she loves him and grabs him gently for a kiss. It’s a slow press of lips, tantalizing, exploring Suri’s mouth for some of his desire. Dharani lazily licks at his lips, still in a warm afterglow, waiting his turn. Vennela pulls from Suri and stretches her short body to kiss Dharani with the wall still between them. Dharani’s kiss is slow and wet, sensual after sex. Vennela makes a small sound, flooded with Dharani’s passion, so different from Suri’s.
Suri makes an impatient noise at them, and they part. Dharani sways, his eyes glassy and fond against a sweet smile. Vennela laughs, calling him a puppy. She pinches Suri again and turns abruptly to walk into the house, her plait swaying behind her. Suri calls to her, smiling at how she likes to tease them.
Suri opens the swinging door to the shower and almost steps out naked. He laughs at his mistake and grabs a lungi draped over the shower wall. When he wraps it around himself, Dharani watches with a lazy admiration. Suri’s muscles pull tightly, and the lean definition at his hips makes Dharani’s blood warm in his veins. Their bodies are different. Where Suri is strong and shaped tightly, Dharani is soft and pliant. It used to make Dharani feel a little strange, inferior to Vennela’s other husband. But both Suri and his wife overindulged him with compliments. They seem to like how he is shaped.
Suri laughs at Dharani’s faraway smile and grabs him. With Vennela entering the home, things are even more playful, a new layer of arousal to reach for. Suri wraps Dharani in fabric and pushes him towards the house. When they step inside, they find their wife, waiting patiently, playing with the ends of her plait to untie it. Suri walks tall and confident, his cock tenting his lungi. Dharani shuffles in behind, eyeing Venella as she sits sweetly on their bed, a reminder of the feminine dynamic that they’ve invited into their lives.
“Can’t you control yourself!” Vennela wags her finger at them and laughs. She curls into the bed as they both move closer to her. Dharani is still pliant, but his interest resurges. Especially when Suri’s eyes turn bright, a playful heat behind them. He tugs at Dharani’s lungi and pushes his arm to get him on their bed.
Dharani’s body is still warm and open from his orgasm. He flops onto the bed and lets his thighs splay. Vennela starts to blush, still shy of nudity, even with her husbands. Dharani puts his hands on her to soothe away any apprehension. It works. Vennela movies and lets herself be kissed. Dharani’s kisses are a comfort, timid and liquid. Suri joins them, discarding his lungi, abashed in his own nudity.
Vennela gasps when Suri touches her. She is reminded that his hands are heavy and textured from hard work. She pushes into them. Suri pulls at the light fabric that covers his modest wife. She kisses him too, leaving Dharani to pepper kisses on her shoulder, untying her top from the back, pulling and touching to get her naked. Dharani finds Vennela’s soft skin, unblemished by her age and motherhood. His hands move further and find the flesh at her hips, different from Suri’s hard lines. Dharani groans when Suri pulls at more fabric, and Vennela’s breasts meet the warm room. Vennela’s apprehension dissolves, her expression open and full of lust. It makes Suri eager, hungry for her taste. His mouth finds her nipple and latches, mindful of his mustache, gentle against her sensitive skin.
Vennela makes a noise, her hips twisting and her hands searching for the strong men who touch her. Suri’s mouth and tongue are velvet against her body. She squirms and tries to grab at Suri’s length, unable to reach comfortably. Suri laughs, and Vennela bares her neck, twisting again as Dharani kisses her there, pinching and sucking. Suri continues to yank at Vennela’s stubborn saree, huffing when he spots Dharani’s cock growing rigid, pointing towards their wife. Vennela sighs when Suri yanks the last bit of fabric, exposing her hips and thighs. Dharani’s hand fits between them, finding slick folds and coarse hair. She tries to make herself small, bending her legs and twisting. It’s another unnecessary shyness at how exposed her body is. One that she gives up on when she’s unable to turn away from either of them. Suri’s hand joins Dharani’s, laughing at his wife’s trembling response. His mouth finds Vanella’s lips, reprimanding her coitish attitude and thrusting his tongue in.
Dharani and Suri’s touch is gentle, building the tension as they brush the parts of Vennela that swell. She whimpers, trying to spread herself open, trying to give them both room to fit. Both men lift and press closer, securing her on each side, protecting her. It reminds Dharani of how they sleep, their children protected by them. His heart aches at the rush of love he feels for them both, his cock throbbing in sympathy.
Vennela kisses Dharani and passes her hand over his cock, hard and eager again. She turns to Suri for another kiss, grabbing his cock too. Suri growls, an impulsive hand coming out to smack at Dharani’s thigh, reaching across Vennela to get to him. The three of them laugh in response to their arousal, playful gain as it surges. Eventually their desires outweigh Vennela’s shyness, and she pushes away from her husbands, sitting up to change positions. Dharani’s hands follow her, dewy-eyed and in love. Vennela straddles Suri in a swift movement, her thin limbs wrapping around his waist and lifting up. Suri moans, his cock ready and thick, angry at having been ignored and forgotten.
Dharani licks his lips when he stands, moving behind Vennela to hold her. He straddles Suri in a similar way but doesn’t let his weight rest. He instead holds himself up, only concerned with touching them, kissing Vennela as she sinks down on Suri’s cock. Suri makes a long noise. The tight heat of Vennela is a torture, wet, velvet, and unrelenting in pressure. Dharani finds Vennela’s ear and sucks, ignoring Suri’s stuttered moans. His hands cup her breasts from behind, squeezing gently, tugging on her nipples. Vennela moans, pushing herself up and down, feeling Suri’s thick cock slide into her. She feels Dharani’s cock too, near her back. It makes her feel a pulse of guilt, promising herself to make it up to him.
Dharani focuses on Vennela, ignoring himself for a moment. He watches as she starts to bounce, Suri’s hands on her hips guiding her movement. It’s beautiful, intoxicating to watch his wife like this, honest and earnest in her needs, demanding from her husband what he has to offer her. Dharani’s eyes find Suri, his face a lax expression of bliss, his eyes lidded. He feels a sudden rush of selfish desire. Dharani wants to grab for Suri, to kiss him, and to pull his cock out of Vennela to put in his own mouth. To taste both of them there and keep it. Dharani laughs to himself, amused by his sudden possessive behavior.
Dharani taps Vennela’s arm and tries to move her. She looks reluctant at first but then understands what Dharani wants and relents. She moves eagerly, twisting her body around to face Dharani. He smiles, kissing her before kneeling. Her body is arched away from Dharani, giving him room to fit. Suri grabs at Vennela’s hips, angling her slightly to put his cock back in. Dharani stretches his neck, his mouth finding Vennela’s sex, and flattens his tongue to it.
Vennela cries out, holding herself up with her arms but filled with pulsating desire. Suri’s cock pushes into her from behind, and Dharani’s tongue laps at her in the front. He finds her clit, round and thick. His tongue continues, gentle but consistent, and Vennala’s hips tremble. It’s something they’ve done before, a favorite of Vennela’s when she has the space to be indulgent. Both men know this, and both men draw on her desire, lapping and thrusting to angle themselves correctly. Suri reaches deep, and Dharani finds the perfect pressure. His tongue slips a few times, moving lower to lick at Suri as he pushes in. Suri moans, and Vennela’s voice stretches thin, begging the men on either side of her for something more.
Suri slows down, ignoring Vennela’s confused protests. He slips out and grunts towards Dharani. Dharani understands the signal and moves into a higher squat. He takes his cock and angles himself to push into Vennela, who gasps and clutches his shoulders. The position is delicate and a bit strange, with Vennela essentially leaning her weight on Suri’s hips. Dharani groans when he slides in, thrusting his hips in a wide rotation to take it slow. Vennela kisses Dharani, sloppy with her tongue and lips. Their love passes through them, finding the contact points of each body and creating a current, vibrating forward and back. Dharani’s cock is shaped differently, and it reaches a different depth. The comparison makes Vennela cry out, her breasts bouncing with each movement. Her eyes are wide when they find Dharanis, still shaken by the sensations he can pull from her. She suddenly wants to see Suri again, feeling foolish for missing him. As if able to read her thoughts, Dharani pulls out. Suri smiles, fitting himself back in for his turn.
It’s elating for Vennela, her body being passed back and forth to be loved, her mouth finding both Dharani and Suri in the throes of passion. Her face is painted with heat, her plait unraveling in the humidity. Vennela feels someone pull out and the other push in. It’s lazy and indulgent, each cock taking its turn, torturous in how slow and languid it is. Vennela reaches a boiling point, done with drawing her needs out.
“Suri.” Vennela rasps, knowing Dharani will understand, knowing their choices here are understood and safe. Dharani pulls from her gently, kissing her one last time.
Vennela lies next to Suri, reaching for him to move. He does, turning to climb over her and slot between her legs. He pushes her thighs apart, sliding into her in an easy glide. Suri groans at the new position, more in control of his movements and closer, able to watch the pleasure rush through his wife’s features.
Dharani flops next to them, his cock demanding but his mind a happy mush. His mouth finds Vennela, sucking at her nipples, his fingers fitting in her mouth, something to suck on. Suri groans at the visual, and Vennela continues to moan as he moves. Suri speeds up his thrusts, looking down to watch himself disappear inside of Vennela, feeling a rush of slick as his orgasm builds. He pulls out one last time, trying to delay his climax, trying to catch his breath.
“I’m close,” Suri whines with a pinched expression, stroking himself slowly as Dharani moves to kiss him. It’s a slow and happy kiss, one where their beards brush against each other, one Vennela loves to watch. Dharani moves again, lower, close enough to mouth at Suri’s cock. Suri shouts at the sensation, and Vennela recognizes the alert.
“In me. In me.” Vennela whispers, and Dharani moves back to her. Vennela pushes Suri’s cock into her and moves forward, possessive of his orgasm, her eyes bright and insistent.
The implication isn’t lost on Suri. They’ve spoken of it in passing. Another baby. The shape of their daughters’ noses motivates Vennela’s sudden urgency for Suri. Dharani moves too, an approval of their unspoken decision, lying down to watch patiently. Suri tries to meet Vennela’s enthusiasm, thrusting his hips into her velvet vice, wet and greedy. Suri’s strong and wild thrusts finish him. He groans, and his body convulses. Dharani’s hands find Suri taking his mouth for a kiss when he cums, his tongue lapping at the pleasure that rushes through him. Vennela isn’t ignored. Dharani returns to her, and Suri continues to push.
His orgasm is wild in its delay, with the rushing features he’s familiar with. His blood pushes and swells and comes to him in waves. He feels it in his cock, from his balls to the thick base and back again to spread through his body. Each pulse inside of her is more erotic than the last. Her walls clench around him, soft pillows and silk tightening to milk him. Suri can hear Dharani laugh, delighted by his unraveling. He can feel Vennela kiss him, but she falls back to the bed as he sways over her, trying to catch his breath.
Vennela touches herself, feeling Suri’s cock where it breaches her body. She pulls off gently and twists to get closer to Dharani. He cradles her, helping her move as she pinches her legs together. Suri whines and falls to the other side of his wife, knowing absently that there are still two orgasms left. Vennela pulls at Dharani, and they reposition themselves without direction. Dharani is quick to push inside, pressing Vennela’s thighs forward, giving her a tight space to touch herself. It’s some strange instinct to keep Suri’s seed inside, and they both want it to work. Suri pets at Vennela slowly, warmth and happiness covering his features. His hand comes to Dharani’s chest when his husband starts to thrust.
“Vennela first.” Suri drawls, pulling at one of Dharani’s nipples. Dharani moans, suddenly anxious about his capabilities. Suris’ hand finds Vennela’s sex and helps her. She lets out a vibrating moan, concentrating with each of Dharani’s thrusts. Suri’s touch is skilled, coaxing Vennela’s orgasm from within her. Dharani’s face is pure and eager. It makes Vennela’s heart ache. She tries to touch them both, but it’s difficult with their movements. It doesn’t matter. The combined sensations are enough. Vennela convulses, heat radiating in her veins, pressure and release working together at her pelvis. Dharani can feel her muscles contract from within, her walls squeezing and trembling. It’s another familiar sensation, one he has yet to get used to.
Vennela is suddenly grateful for her husbands. Her orgasms with them are powerful and full. They start at her core, where life catches, and spread to every muscle and bone in her body. They come in punches, press after press from Suri’s fingers on the underside of her clit. Every pull feels like a new orgasm, shocking and demanding of her body’s devotion. The energy comes from her, exploding and then rushing. She continues to shake, pulse after pulse of her orgasm affecting them all. Dharani thrusts through it, fast and hard, attuned to Vennela’s needs. His face pinches, trying desperately to keep his orgasm at bay.
It happens when Vennela sags, wild and furious for relief. Dharani’s body rushes with pleasure, electric and loud under his skin. He huffs out strange high noises, his balls drawn up tight and thick. Dharani thrusts until he shouldn’t. He has the instinct to stay inside, to blend with what Suri left behind, but he knows what this is for, what this means.
Dharani pulls out, stroking himself frantically, his cum landing on Vennela’s belly instead. Suri’s hand strokes Dharani’s arm, then he moves, reaching up to kiss Dharani, thanking him for the consideration. Dharani kisses back with a silly laugh, once again a puddle in his afterglow. They both turn back to their wife and shower her in affection, finding a nipple, a neck, an elbow, anything to lavish with love. She hums, locking her thighs together to keep Suri inside her. They touch her knees when she lifts them, gripping them to her chest in the hopes a new soul will find them.
Suri and Dharani wrap their arms around Vennela, letting their love flow through, bouncing back and forth to swell Vennela, to keep her full and satisfied. They mull on the path that brought them here, to this moment, to this small home, to their life together. It’s a good life—exciting, dull, exhausting, and deeply fulfilling. The good sex, the bad sex, the tantrums, and the laughter. It’s a good life.
“I told Rangamma we would join her for dinner.” Dharani smiles, and Suri groans.
Rangamma’s home glows under the sunset, a beacon of warmth in the village. Inside, Dharani’s family and the Nidumolu family meet to eat together under their matriarch’s hospitality. Rangamma teases Vennela’s children with stories of Chitti’s childhood, and Cherry helps pass them food and water dishes for their small hands. Kusa is too occupied with his own food, and Chitti is too occupied with Kusa. Ramalakshmi is there to tease Chitti and enjoy the company of her female friends. Jai and Lava talk to everyone softly. Both men seem to be shy, but Lava at least socializes, perhaps enough for the both of them.
Dharani’s daughters sit with their mother. It’s their preference. Vennela plates their food how they like it and is gentle with her instructions on how to eat. They like to parrot her, watching how her hand moves expertly around rice and curry. She tears their roti for them, and they watch perplexed how she can tear it with only one hand. She flicks her wrist, and her bangles jingle. It’s a sound both Suri and Dharani have memorized, a deeper rattle to the tiny tinkling their daughters’ ankles make. Vennela has the girls on either side of her, trying to keep wiggling limbs still and reprimanding when left-handed fingers forget to stay hidden. Everyone else bounces around conversations, happy and sociable with their hunger sated.
“We are struggling with our leads.” Lava quips in the middle of discussing the upcoming performance. Dharani remembers hearing about a casting call for a little play in the village and strains his ears to listen. Rangamma takes the conflict seriously with a hum.
"Ramalakshmi is—“ Rangamma is interrupted by a tiny screech.
Jyoty lets out another sound, distressed and whimpering. Vennela reaches for her on instinct, tutting at the little girl’s mistake. Jyoty starts to cry as her mother pulls her small body into her lap.
“We don’t touch, Bangaram.” Vennnela reprimands her daughter for using her chutney-stained finger to rub at her eyes. “We wash first.”
Jyoty’s sisters look at their own small hands, anxious when their sibling is upset. Vannela takes a water dish and cloth and dabs it gently at her daughter’s small eyelid. Rangamma reaches to hand over milk, and Vennela sways her head, dipping the cloth. The remedy helps, but Jyoty fusses and tries to wiggle away, reaching her arms out toward her father.
“Nanna!” Jyoty whines, sucking on lungfuls of hair as her crying turns to sobs. Dharani hesitates and tilts his gaze, trying to get the attention of Vannela’s other husband. Suri perks up, realizing that with the narrative they’ve told the villagers that ‘Nanna’ should be him. He reaches for his daughter, and Vannela tries to hand her over, but the child resists, reaching over for Dharani and repeating the endearment.
It isn’t entirely strange. Jyoty is very young, and the endearment could bounce around to different men in the family, but Dharani and his two partners blush regardless. When the other two girls, sensing the tension in the room, start to sniff, their anxieties turn on each other. Janvi reaches towards Jyoty, and the movement causes agitation. Their hands push at each other, and Vennela has to scold them for trying to fight. Dharani moves closer, taking Jyoty amidst the chaos, but the attention strains the girl’s tantrums further, spiking big emotions in little bodies. Rangamma intervenes. She motions towards the little girls, smiles, and gets them to focus on her.
“Have your parents told you Bhima’s story yet?” The girls sway their heads shyly at their mother’s hip, curling in close to hide and suck on sobs.
“He was a warrior.” Rangamma starts, her voice wondrous and playful. “The son of a king. Big and strong. As big as a tree.” Rangamma lifts her arms up to recount his height. The girls gasp and stretch their mouths in shy smiles. Jyoty is reduced to sniffles, feeling better in Dharani’s arms. She hides her flushed face in her father’s strong arm but listens closely.
“—But above all, Bhima was deeply in love.” The triplets’ eyes widen, and the adults smile warmly at their attention. “Draupadi. Bhima’s beloved, his beautiful wife. He fought for her, drew blood in her name, and vowed to destroy anyone who would insult her.” The children laugh, scrunching their noses at the strangeness of romance.
“However, Bhima wasn’t alone.” Rangamma continues, the children listening closely. “He had brothers. Strong men who loved Bhima dearly. Who loved Draupadi too.”
“Did they fight for her!?” Janvi gasps, remembering the stories they’ve heard of jealous men battling for the woman they want to marry.
“No!” Rangamma laughs, exciting the girls further. “Because she loved them, the same way she loved Bhima.”
The girls’ faces brighten. They turn their small heads to their parents, and Janvi crawls into her mother’s lap. The adults exchange glances, understanding washing between them. It’s a kind moment, still and mature.
“Their devotion to each other was strong and sacred.” Rangamma adds. “And so, Draupadi married them all.”
“All of them.” Janvi whispers, clutching her mother’s saree.
“Sometimes love looks different.” Rangamma explains. “Between adults, or between siblings. You have to be good to each other. Like how your parents are good to each other. Like how Bhima and his brothers were good to their wife.”
“Vennela!” Kusa yells. Everyone startles and turns to watch his excitement.
“Maa Sita.” Kusa whispers, and Chitti sways his head in agreement. “For our devotional. For Dasara!”
Lava’s eyes brighten, and he clasps his hands together. He agrees and motions to Jai to agree with them. Voices call over each other trying to convince Vennela to accept the role. It’s sudden and silly, but appealing. Vennela remembers how she loved to dance and perform as a child. She tries to reject the offer, adjusting the child in her arms. Suri and Dharani catch each other’s expressions. They smile and turn to their wife. Vennela has a bright and kind personality. She is a loving mother and very beautiful. The role would fit perfectly.
It takes encouragement and kind looks, but Vennela eventually accepts their offer, swaying her head with a laugh.
“Alright.”
The walk home is slow. Vennela and her husbands each carry a sleeping child in their arms. The cool wind in the evening is just enough to endure the heat that blankets them.
Putting the babies to sleep is a quiet ritual. Amid the passing of small bodies and the shifting of clean bedding, an aroma fills the home. Dharani clicks on metal fans, and it carries a scent. The sweet smell of new skin, of young smiles, and of the milk that feeds all of them. Their sapped bodies curl around their children. The soft cotton soothes their bare feet, tired and worn down from responsibilities. Dharani and Suri protect their girls on each side, forming a shield around the vulnerable souls that love them.
“Draupadi.” Vennela whispers to herself and smiles. “Maa Sita?”
Suri hums, and Dharani smiles, his eyes bright.
“It was kind of them.” Suri offers. His hand finds Jyoty’s crown and plays with dark, downy hair, liberated earlier from its plait. “But we have to be careful. There are still people in the village who won’t understand.”
Dharani sighs. He recognizes the weight that Suri carries on his shoulders. To this community he is Vennela’s husband and a father. If Dharani makes a mistake, it is only Suri’s younger unmarried brother. But Suri has to be steadfast. He has to protect his family. It’s his job to worry for the three of them.
Dharani’s hands find his children. They clearly have Vennela’s eyes, but their noses are shaped like his, long and curved downward. He’s still surprised that this tenuous truth invokes not jealousy but pure light. They are Suri’s daughters. They are Dharani’s daughters. Vennela is their mother. They were born to love. So much love it couldn’t be held by two parents alone. Whatever dangers may find them, those truths will never change.
Dharani’s hand finds Suri’s in the blanket. Vennela’s fingers play with their loose grasp, memorizing the skin of the men she loves. Her eyes shine under the low light of sunset. They fill with unshed tears, and Dharani reaches over to kiss her. It’s a chaste press, marital and soft, one that Suri parrots and then repeats again with Dharani. Vennela whispers between them.
“We will be okay.”