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alezangona · 2 months

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Cross My Heart

pairing: kid varadha x kid deva

Summary:

Deva barely makes it a few feet out of the arena before he collapses from the pain. His family and Varadha have things to say when he wakes up.

breaking news: in a *shocking* twist of events, touching a live wire can in fact fuck you up

Deva walks out of the arena, feeling like his nerves are vibrating inside of him. He can taste thick, coppery blood through his teeth, there’s a ringing in his ears, and there’s a searing pain across his shoulders that he knows means there’ll probably be a scar later. He can barely see five feet in front of him, his vision is so blurry.

But he can’t show weakness now, not after everything he’s done.

He’s gotten Varadha his mukku pogu back, had won it for his prince. That bastard had dared to lay a hand on him, to take what rightfully belonged to Varadha, but with what he’s done today Deva knows Rudra won’t go after Varadha for a while.

However, that depends on Deva staying strong now. He’s in no position to fight, he’s aware that he probably fucked something up internally, but he had tried to project enough confidence and anger into his warning to Rudra that he hopes the act was convincing enough.

Keep going, he wills himself, begging the adrenaline coursing through him to not abandon him right now.

Deva can see Varadha’s proud smile out of the corner of his eye, the bounce in his step that was missing this morning when he sought Deva out, nose bare. He can’t let Varadha know how badly it hurts, knows his friend will blame himself for it when it wasn’t his fault at all.

They make it past the gates of the arena, thankfully not followed by Rudra or his lackeys. Varadha beams at Deva, and opens his mouth, probably to say something adorable as usual, when Deva feels the last of the hormones leave him. Varadha’s joyful face morphs quickly into horror as Deva lurches forward, catching Deva in his arms. He cries out as Varadha grabs at his sensitive shoulders, and feels Varadha tense at the sound.

Fuck, Deva thinks. His plan of not letting Varadha know was a bust. The world fades to black along with Varadha’s panicked cries of Deva’s name. Sorry raa, Deva thinks before he finally blacks out from the pain.

Deva wakes up feeling like he got hit by a bus, with a headache the size of Mars, but at least that infernal ringing noise is gone. His vision is still blurry, but not as bad as it was the last time he was awake. It’s enough to make out the figure of his father sitting on a chair beside the bed Deva’s laying on, looking worried somewhere above Deva’s head. There are voices from that direction, and Deva focuses to hear his mother and.. Varadha? arguing with another man.

“What do you mean you can’t fix him?” Amma demands.

The man, probably a doctor, sounds nervous in the face of Amma’s anger as he tries to placate her. “I’m sorry, but the shock he went through will have long term consequences. There’s nothing I can do about that.”

“You’re the doctor though, isn’t it your job to fix people?” Varadha asks, and with a pang of guilt, Deva notes that his voice is rough, like he’s been crying for a long time.

Deva tries to sit up, but realizes his muscles feel so heavy he doesn’t have the strength to move anything other than his head, and maybe if he tries hard, his hands. He tries to call Varadha’s name, but his throat closes up and he can only manage a truly pathetic cough. At the sound, everyone immediately crowds around him.

“Deva, how are you feeling now?” Amma asks, clutching his face, and he can see tears in her eyes.

“I’m okay, Amma,” Deva says, trying his best to project strength, and can see everyone visibly take a breath of relief.

The doctor examines Deva briefly. “I’ll let you all talk to the patient first,” he says, gathering up the medical supplies haphazardly placed on the table next to Deva’s bed. “I’ll be back to do more tests soon.”

As soon as the doctor leaves, Varadha throws himself on top of Deva, sobbing. Deva tries to comfort his friend, but he can barely lift his arm high enough to simply place his hand on top of Varadha’s soft curls. He looks up at his parents, trying to see what he should do, how he should comfort Varadha, but is met with two stony faces. Deva winces.

Amma immediately starts yelling. “What were you thinking? Are you crazy?”

Dhaara joins in, voice thick with worry. “Touching a live wire like that!”

“The next time you pull something like this I’ll kick you out!”

“Varadha told us what happened-”

“Then you’ll know, once you feel what I felt when-”

“-could’ve died, you’re lucky the current wasn’t high enough to kill-”

The voices start overlapping as Deva’s headache worsens, and he shuts his eyes against the sensory overload. He also doesn’t really know what to say that will get him out of this, so he stays quiet.

They pause for a few seconds, realizing Deva’s not listening.

“Deva,” Dhaara starts gently. “The doctor says you’re going to have complications for the rest of your life.”

Deva opens his eyes. “Like what?” Not like he really cares, but might as well know.

His parents look at each other, then back at him, like they’re unsure of how he’ll take the news.

“The doctor said you’ll have a lifetime of unpredictable muscle tremors and temporary paralysis. And that’s the bare minimum. You’ll still have to be tested for the next few weeks to make sure you don’t develop cataracts in your eyes, and see how badly the feathering marks across your shoulders scar.” Dhaara says, looking more and more devastated by the time he gets to the end. “You’ll also have to be monitored for any neurological damage.”

“Ok,” is all Deva replies.

His silence seems to enrage Amma even more. “Do you even care? Who’ll take care of you when you’re old and paralyzed? Who’s going to marry you with those scars on your back?”

Dhaara winces. “Ammadi, why are you bothered about all that? He’s barely ten.”

“I’m his mother, of course I’ll bother about it! It’ll be me tending to him decades later if his condition worsens!”

“Of course I’ll be there too, he’s our son, we’ll both take care of him-”

“That’s not the point-”

Deva tunes them out once again, realizing that he’s regained enough strength in his fingers that he’s able to stroke through Varadha’s hair. I’d love to braid the hair if it gets longer, Deva thinks absently. He only knows the traditional Shouryanga ones, but he resolves to find out if there are any special Mannarsi braids.

Dhaara is the first to quiet down, and gently mentions to Amma that they should calm down since Deva is still hurt.

Amma sniffles. “Ah, like he has that consideration for his poor parents. He doesn’t care if we live or die.” The tone makes Deva feel awful even though he knows she’s exaggerating. He refuses to feel regret, though. No matter how upset it makes his mother feel. He won’t ever regret defending Varadha, not even if he loses his life in the process.

Dhaara sends one last worried look towards his son before he leads Amma out of the room to let Deva rest.

By this time, Varadha’s sobs have quieted, and he turns his face to look up at Deva. His eyeliner is completely smudged, falling in black streams down his face, his cheeks are red and blotchy, and there’s snot in his nose from crying so hard. Deva thinks he’s still the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

“Arey Vara,” he starts.

Varadha sits up and quickly punches him in the chest again, making Deva recoil.

“Ow, what the hell?”

Deva regrets every single time he’s teased Varadha for not being aggressive enough towards anyone he’s angry at as Varadha tears into him.

“You absolute fucking buffoon! Look at the state of you, yedava [idiot]! What the hell were you even thinking?”

“Not you too,” Deva groans.

“I thought you were fine!” Varadha cries. “You got up fine, you threatened Rudra and you were fine, you walked out fine, I thought you were FINE! And then you collapse in my arms, what the hell was I supposed to think?”

“Sorry raa.”

“No, that’s not enough! I had to carry you all the way back to your house, asshole! I thought you were about to die in my arms!” He’s close to tears again. “All for what, a fucking nose ring? Let him have it, I would rather have you, alive and well rather than a stupid nose ring!”

Deva stubbornly looks through the window next to him. He’s fine apologizing for worrying Varadha, but if Varadha thinks he’ll get an apology for getting his nose ring back, he might as well give up now. Varadha’s too nice for his family, he needs someone like Deva who’s willing to get fucked up to make sure Varadha gets the respect he deserves. He may not see it that way, but that’s just Khansaar for the both of them. Only the strong survive in this place.

“What, are you gonna give me the silent treatment too?”

Deva avoids Varadha’s glare. He’s pretty much paralyzed right now, it’s not like he can do anything else. He can keep playing this game.

Finally, Varadha gives in, and softens his voice. “Fine. Please raa, just promise me.” He lifts his hand up, and Deva looks over. “Promise me you’ll never do anything as reckless as this again for me.” Deva hates how desperate he sounds. He so wants to promise Varadha anything he wants, anything he asks for, never wants Varadha to cry again in this life if Deva can help it, but he can’t promise this.

Varadha seems to notice his hesitation. “Ok. Don’t promise. Just.. just say you’ll try your best. At least give me that.”

Deva sighs. It’s the best he’ll get. He tries to lift his arm up to put his hand in Varadha’s awaiting hand, but it takes him a few seconds to get there. He pretends not to notice the way Varadha’s face falls as he sees how badly Deva’s hand is shaking.

“Fine. I’ll try my best to not be reckless again.”

Varadha frowns. “Try to keep your word Deva, please. Don’t make me go through this again.” His voice drops into a whisper, and another tear slowly makes its way down Varadha’s face. “I thought I lost you.”

Deva doesn’t know how to respond to Varadha being this honest with him, this vulnerable. He’s never been good with comforting words, so he attempts to shrug and tell a joke to cheer Varadha up, but fights back a groan at the searing pain in his shoulders as he attempts to lift them. Varadha’s eyes track the movement and the subsequent twitch of pain, and Deva internally winces at the resurgence of guilt he can see in them.

“Varadha… Rey. It wasn’t your fault. It was fully my decision to challenge the pailwan.”

Varadha visibly debates responding to that, but seems to realize Deva’s just as stubborn as him, and gives up. “Whatever.” He fidgets for a few seconds, then comes to a decision. He looks Deva in the eyes. “I’ll always be there for you, raa. You know that, right?”

“Of course I know that,” Deva says, confused.

Varadha shakes his head. “No, I mean, what your mom was saying earlier… she’s wrong. If this does fuck you up in the future, when you’re older, I’ll be there to take care of you. No matter what I’m doing, no matter where you are, I’ll find you, and I’ll be there for you.” There’s determination in his eyes, and Deva knows he meant what he said, every bit of it.

Deva gives him a small smile, floored by the depth of affection Varadha has for him.

Varadha frowns at his reaction. “Unbelievable. You actually thought I’d let you do something like this and then not take care of you afterwards. Yedava.” He settles back onto Deva’s chest. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, don’t worry.” Varadha moves so his ear is directly over Deva’s heart. Deva feels a warmth slowly expand inside him as he realizes Varadha’s trying to comfort himself by listening to Deva’s heartbeat.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Varadha asks softly, tracing the feathering marks on the back of Deva’s arm.

“Not at all,” Deva says, and Varadha scoffs, but is it even a lie? He gets to feel his Varadha’s cheek pressed into his chest, gets to hear him all but explicitly say that Deva is someone he genuinely loves and cares for. What more could he want?

They sit in silence like that for a while, enjoying each other’s company.

Before he slips back into unconsciousness, Deva can hear footsteps coming back into the room, then stopping abruptly. He knows Varadha is asleep by now, can feel the even pattern of his breaths, and he himself probably looks asleep as well. There’s silence, then a hushed “Dhaara, what are we going to do about this?”

Deva fights to stay awake, wants to hear the response to that, but is rapidly losing the battle.

The last thing he hears is an amused, “I suppose we’ll have to start being nicer to Raja Mannar, if he’s going to be part of our family in a few years.”

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alezangona · 2 months

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The Shadow of Khansar (Salaar Fic)

Part 9 - The Monster and His Master

Part 8 | Part 10

Notes: Definitely NSFW

The next few months pass by in a blur, albeit a productive one. Khansar’s funds are carefully allocated across various administrations with special emphasis placed on programs pertaining to education, public health, and infrastructure. The government’s focus on foreign policy allows them to settle contracts with various energy management companies across the world to provide solutions for the electrical and water shortages occurring in their external agricultural territories. The continuous expansion of global strategies provides opportunities for reallocation of employment through various industries including manufacturing and trade, though Khansar stays vigilant in maintaining a diplomatic image by hiding its more profitable ventures away from prying eyes.

Change doesn’t come as fast as Varadha initially hopes, the truth being that mistakes occur more frequently than not and it is enough to give him pounding headaches that won’t subside. Moments of high stress are all it takes for him to retreat into himself, gaze faraway as he analyzes every possible solution over and over, a heaviness settling into the line of his shoulders.

During breakfast one morning, when Varadha is toying more with his food than eating it, Baba finally cracks.

“The responsibility of this kingdom is not yours alone, Beta. There are entire organizations and administrations working alongside you to find solutions to the issues we are facing. Let them do their jobs, while you do yours. Not every burden is yours to bear.” Then he lets out a small smile. “Anyway, it’s important for you to learn the importance of a good stroll over a hasty run. What you’re doing now is establishing a strong foundation for Khansar’s growth and longevity. Take that for granted and you’ll give way for its fall.”

Varadha doesn’t finish his breakfast that morning and he doesn’t miraculously stop worrying either. Still, he begins to notice just how much people care. It isn’t just his face worn from sleepless nights and early mornings. It isn’t just his eyes that contain a spark of determination in the face of challenges.

The reassurance is enough to let him sleep a bit more peacefully at night. It also helps that he feels less alone than he has in years. Particularly in moments of leisure that are spent in the presence of his loved ones.

Morning garden strolls with Baba as he talks about his life and his Noor.

When she’d leave for her business meetings, I wouldn’t know how to handle myself. So anxious and restless till she came home. Time used to stand still without her, but in her presence, every day would pass by faster than a strike of lightning, and just as beautiful too. I’ve had years with her… it still doesn’t feel like it was enough time. She’d be proud of you, if she was here to see you now.

Afternoon chaturanga sessions with Baachi as he curses out Varadha for winning every round.

I still look over my shoulders sometimes, waiting for someone to fuck with us. We’ve endured years of humiliation and it feels like there’s more to withstand. I’m still not used to the way people look at us with respect when we leave the palace. I’m thankful for what we have Anna, and I’m scared to lose it too— Fuck! Again? What’s the point in playing with me when you keep winning anyway?

Evening movie nights with Deva as they curl up on the couch, shedding their responsibilities and falling into domesticity.

I don’t know how I did it, but I’ve managed to convince Amma to come back to Khansar. I think the only reason she’s even budging is because I’ve been begging her to come back with me and telling her it’ll be different under your rule. Even then, she’s hesitant about staying anywhere in the capital. I don’t know if I can convince her to stay in the palace, not without putting her ill at ease. After everything she’s done for me, I have to draw the line on her behalf at some point. I’m thinking of getting her a place at the outskirts of town. I’m going to hate not seeing you every night, though.

That doesn’t end up becoming a problem for too long. The first night that Deva stays away at his mother’s new house, Varadha tosses and turns for hours on end, restful sleep alluding him. His cranky mood the next morning has the entire palace walking on eggshells. That is, until Deva enters the council room later on in the day for one of their meetings. They stay on different ends of the room, but when their gazes meet, the exhaustion drains visibly from their bodies and the palace is able to breathe once more.

“Come home with me tonight?” Deva asks once they leave the room, walking shoulder to shoulder. Varadha’s step falters for a second before he goes back to matching Deva’s stride.

“What?” Varadha carefully observes their surroundings, staying alert until he’s sure there’s no one else around them.

“For dinner, you idiot.” Deva’s lips quirk. “Not some clandestine meeting of lovers.”

“Can’t fault me for checking, Bangaram. I never can tell what’s going on in that filthy mind of yours.” Varadha shrugs, biting the inside of his cheek to hide his smile.

“Yes, because I’m dying for a chance to ravish you in my mother’s home.” Deva rolls his eyes, but takes a step closer to him anyway, bending down so his gravelly voice can whisper. “Though… why bother with the wait when I can fuck you in that closet instead?”

~*~

The first dinner at Amma’s ends up being more awkward than Varadha thought possible. As inviting as she is, there’s a prying gleam in her eyes as she observes the two of them, trying to gauge what could’ve happened during the past few months for her son to willingly return to this godforsaken place. To move her here as well. He finds himself trying to impress her for some reason, telling her about all the changes he and his team are trying to bring about to the city. If he was being honest with himself, for a moment it felt like the words were being forcefully ejected from his mouth, anxiety refusing to let go of the trigger. However, when there is a lapse in conversation after dinner while they put away leftovers, Varadha catches a glimpse of Amma looking at him with a relieved expression. He doesn’t know what it means, but is able to breathe easier when she sends him off with a box of leftover chepala pulusu (fish curry) and tells him to come visit again soon.

The weekly dinners end up becoming a reprieve for Varadha when he starts to realize just how much he feels like a kid again under Amma’s roof. Gone are his responsibilities of being Karta when he steps into the threshold. She acts with him as she always had, feeding him exorbitant amounts of food, reprimanding him for not sleeping enough, and even going to the extent of massaging his scalp when he confesses to her of the pounding headache he’s suffered with for days.

His eyes close at the feeling of her fingers running through his scalp, the smell of medicinal oil oddly pleasant and soothing as she works the tension out from his muscles. Amma continues to talk to him, voice low and pleasant as she urges him to take better care of himself and something breaks inside him. A ball lodges in his throat and he can feel wetness forming behind closed lids. When they flicker open, Deva is standing in front of him, a glass of water in hand. Concern immediately clouds his features and he shifts his body forward, only to stop when Varadha discreetly shakes his head, a wobbly smile forming on his lips.

“Stay here with us tonight,” Amma commands, unaware of the plight he’s facing. “The second you go back to that palace you’ll spend the night overworking yourself and I refuse to let you run yourself into the ground. Deva, go set up the guest room and don’t let him leave till tomorrow morning.”

Later that night, once Amma is asleep, Deva sneaks into Varadha’s room, crawling into bed and holding him tight.

“Are you okay?” Deva sighs against his ears when Varadha doesn’t answer immediately. “Amma ki chadastham ekuvara, anthe (Amma is just stubborn, that’s all). I’m sorry if what she said hurt you at all.”

“No, she didn’t do anything wrong.” Varadha gulps, pressing back into Deva. “Amma gurthukuochindi, ra (I remembered my mom).”

Deva doesn’t reply, choosing to press a kiss into Varadha’s hair, wrapping his entire body around his lost king and trapping him within the confines of his limbs. Varadha sleeps more peacefully that night than he ever has during the past few months.

The next morning as Amma sends them out of the house, she stops Varadha in his place, a hand wrapped around his arm.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you two since you were children. Karta and Salaar aside, when it comes down to it, you’re just two kids who’ve been forced to grow up too soon. Don’t let those titles define you for the rest of your life, nana. Don’t make the same mistakes as…” The way her gaze digs into his is enough to make him understand, so he nods back, a promise in his own right.

She lets him go.

~*~

The peace doesn’t last long, it hardly ever does in a world like theirs.

They start hearing of various raids across India that begin to interfere with their black market trade. Before they can consider taking action, casinos, brokerages, and banks partnered with Khansar are stormed in an effort to prevent money laundering and other illegal activities. Trucks containing various goods such as weapons and drugs are stopped en route, all the material seized and confiscated by the government. A frenzy erupts in the capital as calls are made to various seeds and contacts planted in India, demanding answers for the sudden crack down. The answer, it turns out, is rather simple.

The government of India aims to fight back against crime… to fight back against Khansar.

It’s not an answer that sits well with anyone. Definitely not Varadha as everyone in his court looks to him for answers. Tensions rise every day in Kotagada as the Doralu debate with their Karta about the best course of action to take to preserve their economy. In the end, there is nothing but disdain as the court adjourns, no real solution to be found.

For the time being, the best course of action is to be more discreet and careful than usual. They run checks on their supply chain to prevent security breaches. Only certain businesses are given access to trade after a thorough inspection process. Different routes are established, intricate and ever changing, with smaller shipments being sent out at a time. Overall, it’s not a perfect system, but it’s enough to get them by.

~*~

Deva’s eyes stay firmly planted on the ground and he hopes that Baba will finally break the silence. He doesn’t. He holds his cap in his hands, leaning back against the chair as if his age has finally caught up to him. Bilal doesn’t seem to be of much help either as he paces back and forth, carefully avoiding Rhinda who scowls at the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

The creak of a door opening snaps them to attention. Varadha steps out, face void of any emotion as he jutts his chin.

“You can go see him now, if you’d like.” Baba doesn’t wait for him to finish the sentence before he disappears through the door.

“I didn’t even know he could move that fast.” Rhinda tries to joke, but no one laughs. He doesn’t look too amused either as he falls back into his chair.

Varadha makes his way to the large window, fists clenched at his sides. Within seconds, Deva is next to him.

“The name of Khansar was enough to stop them not too long ago. Now they’ve attacked us at the heart of it.” Varadha’s hand clasps ironclad around Deva’s tattoo. “I want them dead. Each and every person who dared to lay a hand on him.”

“As you command, Karta.”

“The thought of Khansar alone should terrify them. Touch what belongs to us–”

“You pave the path to your own destruction.”

The Karta’s fist drops back down to his side and his weapon is released.

~*~

Death for anyone who stops the seal.

That is what Deva declares. No one in court bothers to argue. Not when it was a law that would benefit their own economy. Even if they did object, they wouldn’t challenge the monster who just committed a massacre to please his master.

Rakshasudu.

That is what they begin to call him. Not to his face or the Karta’s. Not in scorn either, but in awe of the sheer power that he exudes. The new name becomes a declaration of acceptance.

A violent man for a violent city.

~*~

“A symbol. All that it brands, belongs to you.”

The simple phrase from Deva’s lips ignites a raging fire within him. Varadha’s eyes darken in the confines of the room, gaze honing in on the devil’s mark stamped against Deva’s bare chest.

“Come here.” Varadha commands. He watches as Deva saunters towards him, the glow from the lantern casting shadows onto his rugged physique. His fingers ghost against the seal, drinking in the intricate artwork that decorates tanned skin. The eyes of the devil leer into him, ferocious teeth barred in contempt. It was nothing more than a small circle of ink, able to fade away with the swipe of a finger. Yet, it possessed the ability to shake an entire nation to its core.

So much power in such a small symbol.

And the man who imbued it with that power stands before him, beautiful and pliant, his face sculpted to express unbounded devotion.

Varadha’s hand darts out, fingers wrapping around the underside of Deva’s jaw as he tugs him closer. Deva breathes sharply, surprised by the action, but doesn’t move. He waits patiently, unblinking as Varadha leisurely devours the length of him. In a sudden flash, Varadha turns him around so that Deva’s back is pinned to his front. Deva catches a glimpse of the image in the mirror planted across from him, a pathetic whimper leaving him at the sight.

Varadha’s eyes penetrate through the reflective surface, dark, calculating, and aroused. His fingers dig into Deva’s pulse point as his other hand travels down the expanse of his torso, nails scraping against sensitive skin, eliciting a feeling so strong that Deva’s eyes flutter shut and he arches back into Varadha, desperate for a taste. The furthest he can get is the brush of his lips against the side of Varadha’s jaw before he draws back with a tut.

“Salaar,” The warmth of his breath fans against Deva’s ears, the smoky tone exhilarating him further. “My Salaar. So beautiful when you give yourself to me like this.” His hand slips further down, stopping at the bulge between Deva’s thighs. His fingers dance against the sensitive flesh, featherlight touches that have Deva working to hold back keens of frustration. That is, until Varadha palms him through the fabric of his jeans, the firm touch causing Deva to release a low moan.

“Va–” The name catches in his throat when Varadha’s grip tightens around his neck significantly. Varadha’s lips begin to explore the curve of Deva’s nape, sharp bites that prick into his skin, only to be soothed by the gentle slip of his tongue. Varadha hums softly into him, slotting his hips against the curve of Deva’s ass and pressing into him just enough to let his arousal be felt. Slowly, the hand that is wrapped around Deva’s throat begins to descend. Within no time, Varadha works Deva out of his jeans, hands circling against the heavy length of him.

“Open your eyes and watch what I do to you.” He growls, teeth catching onto Deva’s ear. Deva’s eyes flicker open at the order and he digs his teeth into his lips at the debauched image of him in Varadha’s arms. Hair askew, pupils blown, skin marked by claiming bruises. He lowers his gaze to where Varadha’s hands are pumping him unceremoniously, his thumb circling against his slit, collecting precum and spreading it across the throbbing surface. It doesn’t take long for Varadha’s hands to become coated with the evidence of Deva’s arousal and the sight itself makes Deva tremble with need. “You look beautiful like this. Pliant in my hands, flushed beyond belief, desperate for release.”

Deva hisses as Varadha tugs against his balls, the mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelming him enough to close his eyes for a chance of reprieve.

“Open your eyes, Salaar. I won’t tell you again. Take your eyes off the image of what I’m doing to you and I won’t let you come for me tonight.” The warning incites panic and Deva’s lids snap open, catching the merciless grin on Varadha’s face. “Good boy.”

The motions of his hands speed up around Deva’s cock with varying pressure and Deva is forced to watch himself break, tremors spreading across his overstimulated body. His chest heaves with panting breaths, muscles clenching in an effort to hold back his inevitable release. As he watches from tear-filled eyes, Varadha’s reflection reshapes itself in the mirror, a smug curl of his lips as it dawns on him what Deva is doing.

“Such a good boy, holding yourself back for my sake. I didn’t even have to ask, did I? You’re just that desperate to please me.” The throaty chuckle causes Deva to flush deeper and dig his fingers into the soft material of Varadha’s clothes.

“Please.” Deva groans, on edge. A tear rolls down the corner of his eye and satisfaction paints itself across Varadha’s features.

“Come for me, my beautiful Salaar.” A gasp leaves Deva’s lips, his cock twitching as the sticky residue splatters against the skin of his stomach. His eyes close and he leans back against Varadha, spent as his orgasm flows through his system. He can feel Varadha’s arms wrapping around his waist, lips brushing against his ears as he whispers sweet nothings while pleasure settles into his bones.

By the time Deva is able to ground himself enough to open his eyes, he catches sight of Varadha’s gaze drilling into the seal stamped against his chest. A shudder of pleasure rocks through him when Varadha pushes him onto the bed, his hand curling around the dark mark, a wildness in the depth of his kohl rimmed eyes that has Deva hardening once more.

“Mine.” Varadha places a searing kiss against his lips, stealing his soul from within the confines of its cage. Deva gives back just as much as he gets, wanting nothing more than to have Varadha understand that his entire life belongs to him and only him. By the time Varadha pulls away, stripping out of his shirt, Deva’s kiss-slick lips whisper back words of reassurance.

“Yours, always yours.”

#salaar #varadeva #devaratha raisaar #varadha rajamannar #salaar fic #salaar fanfic #khansar

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