Chapter Text
the lifting of the ceasefire ends with bloodshed all over khansaar. no one was spared from the devil, the houses now were an echo of the evil that once resided within khansaar, now tinged with red.
the only ones left were varadha and his army— his salaar, and shouryanga's and their leader— devaratha.
he wouldn't have ever imagined that one day, he'd lead his salaar into the darbaar, call up a discussion with the remaining ministers he could appoint and negotiate with the shouryanga's, deva leading them as their voice.
for the first time, he'd seen deva as a leader of his people, one who wouldn't back down until each of their demands were met. their eyes were set on the throne and varadha's were on deva. he nodded once as a greeting when deva met him, hands joined and head lowered in respect.
he couldn't help but notice deva— the way he had dressed up in a traditional shouryanga attire, stretched deliciously around his bicep, curling around his stomach, giving way to his waist and loosening up. more often than not had varadha reminded himself to stop staring— it was improper.
bacchi didn't help his situation either, a shit eating grin on his face as he murmured, “stop staring anna, you're about to drool any minute now.”
that usually ended up with a pinch under the table or a slap on his arm— they were in a meeting! but surely that didn't stop deva's curious eyes either, feeling the latter's burning gaze trace his body when he thought varadha wasn't looking his way.
all it would take was one pleading look of deva and he would willingly burn down the throne, and all of khansaar, if that's what deva would've wanted. but deva was far more kinder than any man had ever been towards varadha. all he had wished for was an equal partnership and varadha had readily agreed.
after the meeting had been over, and devaratha had slipped back to being his deva, varadha tugged him away from the proceedings and into the corridors that led to his royal quarters.
his heart squeezed at the confused eyes deva made, letting himself be tugged away into the darkness, eyes shining bright with the unconditional trust he placed on varadha. one that he would cherish until he took his last breath.
“let it be known to your people deva, from now onwards, you'll stay with me, in my quarters. if they want an equal partnership, then i want your company.”
he couldn't control the possessive tone seeping into his voice, the slight tremble in his fingers as he tightly held onto the muscles covered beneath the linen deva always wore, underneath his attire. it was patchy and thinner now, due to its continous use.
deva blinked, as if contemplating. varadha knew better than to fall for his act, the excitement with the hint of challenge already speaking it's way to him.
it was abit stuffy in here, the sweat gathering in his forehead made its trail down his temple. varadha's eyes were dragged towards its movement, the slow exhale of deva, his familiar musk that wrapped itself around him, clinging and never wanting to let go.
“fine then. i will let them know.”
varadha nodded once, unable to contain the pleased smile that made its way to his face.
“good. i will make the arrangements, move in tonight.”
that drew a reaction out of deva, eyebrows pulled up as his eyes widened.
“tonight?” he asked again, a hint of hesitancy as if varadha would ever be unsure of his own decision.
“yes, tonight. bring beer with you too raa. the good stuff.” he winked, hands finally letting go of deva as he moved away, putting much needed space between them, the intoxicating presence of deva fading away and clearing the fog in his brain.
***
drinking hadn't ever been a good habit to latch onto. he had known, been warned against it by his amma. but he rarely listened to anyone, did he?
varadha rarely got drunk. the opportunity had been taken away from him when all of khansaar were down to hunt for his blood. in moments like those, one could rarely afford the vulnerability that came with intoxication.
not anymore, however.
now, as he sat, one of his legs draped over the other, regal in his own throne in his royal quarters, there was no one to stop him from drinking his wits away by the end of this night— the presence of a sober deva was all he needed to lose himself into the throes of alcohol, drinking until he couldn't anymore.
his vision faded into haze as he felt his glass be taken away from him, deva's voice— strict and reprimanding, cutting through the haze. it still felt as he was far away, way too far away from his liking.
“come here raa,” varadha called, hands beckoning him closer, until deva sat beside him. his warmth called varadha nearer, as if a siren luring a sailor into her traps.
helpless, varadha went— tilting until his head hit the give of deva's built thighs below, abit softer as he'd lessened on his practice lessons with the new trainees and let varadha spoil him with various cuts of meat, all delicious and pricey.
he remembers the days when they were kids, way too innocent to understand the bond they shared. he would always be fed by amma first which would lead to an angry and pouty deva chasing him around the house. he chuckled thinking of those days, well aware of the curiousity burning in the eyes that stared down at him.
“did you miss me, all these years we were apart?” it isn't as if he meant to ask the question. it simply tumbled out. he wanted to know, if he meant nearly as much to deva as the man was to varadha.
deva looks down on him, pretty eyelashes that fan down and frame his baggy eyes. even through the blur of his eyes, he can still see the clear adoration that he holds for varadha.
upon noticing varadha's intent gaze, he smiles, a small, shy thing. the upward quirk of his lips catch varadha's attention, eyes drawn towards it as his hands reach out on auto-pilot, landing on his cheek.
he caressses the plush of it, remembers the way amma would rub lotion into his soft, supple cheeks to prevent them from drying out. if he could focus alittle harder, he swears he could almost smell the familiar scent of the milky white moisturizer.
“alot. i missed you alot, vara.”
varadha thinks back to the time they were kids, merely at the age of ten, so devoted and attached at the hip. wherever one went, the other would follow. he was the happiest when he was with deva, despite the differences that surrounded them.
then came that unfortunate cursed night. the night where varadha had to ask deva to leave— his salaar to leave his side and never come back to him. for his and amma's safety. he remembers the promise that young deva had made to him, his curly locks falling and framing his pretty face.
he doesn't know how he survived the years without deva. his memories plagued varadha, from the moment he woke up till the moment he fell asleep. often, his dreams would also be of deva. there was no reprieve from it, and varadha didn't want one either. his fond memories were the only way to keep his need for revenge burning alive.
now, as he stares into the eyes of his deva, the warmth seeping into varadha's cold body, fingers finding their way to his, intertwining them until he's sure one couldn't pull away even if they wanted to— he wonders how would he ever survive without deva.
lifting their conjoined hands, he places a small, sincere kiss at the back of it. watches deva's cheeks burn red, eyes look away and breath stutter at such an unexpected move.
“dont you leave me, ever again.”
it's a plead and a threat all in one.
***
he falls asleep later that night, after convincing deva of playing a silly game of truth and dare, hours passing by as they find themselves losing and unraveling as the game goes on.
turns out, there's much of deva left undiscovered the past twenty five years they've spent apart. he says as much to deva and watches his honey skin tint red and wonders if deva is also as drunk as he is— not on alcohol, but this weird, giddy feeling he has been enveloped into.
he isn't because he's the one that carries varadha's body, making sure he listens to the half-sleepy, half-drunk babbling as he tucks varadha into bed.
when he's about to leave, a glass full of water and medicine left for tomorrow's hangover— varadha stops him, a hand on his wrist, burning through the skin at its contact.
“stay,” he sleepily mumbles. “in my quarters. you promised.” he completes.
there's a small fear that deva assumed his earlier demand to be childish and a joke but as he sees, through a barely concious mind— deva stripping down until only his undergarment is left, stretching around his taut muscles— his fears fall away, replaced with a hunger that simmers low in his stomach.
he squashes it down and instead focuses on the warmth that settles beside him, rolling over into deva's body, petulantly ignoring his huff of protest as he wraps his arms around the hunk of a man deva has grown into being.
he finds that his sleep is the most peaceful when he's wrapped in deva's arm, tucked into the space of his cavicle, breathing in his musky, earthy scent as he listens to their heartbeats sync up, slowly but surely.
***