They could not even make it past the drawing room.
Junak blindly fumbled with the lock as Dikhou pushed him against the door, kissing him with a desperation that paralleled Junak's own - hungry and rough and earnest, like the world was falling apart around them and this was the only chance they had. In a way, it was probably true. Come tomorrow, they would be back in the village, with all the homophobes, Dikhou's family, Niribili's ominous warnings and away from each other...
And they both knew it.
Junak buried his hands in Dikhou's hair as he deepened the kiss, their tongues tangled in each other. Dikhou had his arms around Junak's waist, pulling him closer though they were already pressed together.
It was wild and feverish. And everything was on fire. Junak hadn't done this in a long time and even then, it was never like this. There was so much raw desire in Dikhou's kiss, in his touch, that Junak did not know what to do with it.
He pulled out of the kiss, smiling as Dikhou involuntarily leaned forward like there was some invisible force connecting him to Junak. "Wait," Junak panted.
The house was mostly dark, lit dimly by the recessed lights in the ceiling. Most of Dikhou's face was bathed in shadows but Junak did not miss the way his lips were glistening wet.
Junak ran a tongue over his own wet lips. He caught Dikhou's hands and guided them under his shirt, over his bare skin. "Touch me."
Dikhou's eyes widened, very briefly, but then he was kissing Junak again. He slid his hands up Junak's flanks before letting his warm fingers roam over his chest and stomach. His hands were rough but his touch was hesitant, gentle and so fucking electric Junak was sure he was going to lose his mind.
Dikhou let go of Junak's lips only to kiss him along his jaw and neck. Junak moaned as Dikhou's teeth grazed his throat and those hands - those fucking hands - were trailing along his spine. His stomach was an absolute mess of knots and jitters and...
He could not believe this was actually happening.
As if feeling the same, Dikhou pulled away, very slightly, to look at Junak. He did not say anything. He was not wearing any of his usual mischievous smiles as his eyes searched Junak's face.
It was absolutely ridiculous, after all they had already done, that Junak blushed under his scrutiny. "W-What?"
"You look..." Dikhou trailed off, panting.
Junak smiled a catlike grin revealing his teeth. His lips felt a little sore. "What?"
Dikhou closed his eyes and shook his head. He then hid his face on Junak's shoulder, and said, "I don't... I don't know what I'm doing."
Junak fisted his fingers in Dikhou's hair and pulled, forcing him to look up at him. Dikhou seemed so genuinely shy and conflicted, it made Junak a little weak in his knees. "It's okay. F-Follow my lead?"
Though it was dark, Junak could have sworn Dikhou blushed at that. He averted his eyes and nodded, the slightest dip of his head.
"I mean," it was difficult to speak words with the other man so close to him but he knew he had to say it, "no pressure, okay? W-We don't have to... do anything that you don't want to-"
"No," Dikhou interrupted with a growl. He pressed his hand to Junak's chest, skin on skin, over his hammering heart. "I want to," he whispered. "You. I want you."
Junak felt dizzy with the way his blood rushed down his stomach. "Fuck," was all he managed to say before he grabbed Dikhou by the collar and led him towards the couch. It suddenly felt dangerous for reasons Junak did not have the right mind to think about or understand, but he was too far gone to care anyway.
He pushed Dikhou down on the couch, then stepped back to take off his jacket and then the t-shirt. He watched the way Dikhou's eyes swept over his body, revelling in the knowledge that he wanted him.
He wanted him.
Junak climbed up on Dikhou's lap and sat straddling him. Dikhou's hands reached up to hold him by the small of his back.
"You have no idea how often I imagined your hands on me," Junak whispered, enjoying the way Dikhou's hold tightened and he kissed Junak to shut him up. "Off, please," Junak muttered over his lips, his fingers fruitlessly fiddling with the buttons of Dikhou's shirt. Dikhou pulled back and took off the fabric with expert ease.
Junak took a moment to eye the man in front of him and reached out to touch him like he had wanted to for so many days now. "Remember that day you taught me fishing? You were so hot with all that water clinging onto you."
Dikhou kissed him, roughly, in a clear effort to shut him up. Between his legs, Junak felt how hard Dikhou was under him. Smiling to himself, he jerked his hips to grind against the other man.
Dikhou gasped. "Jun," he said, though in want or warning Junak could not tell.
He stopped to look at Dikhou. "Tell me to stop if and when you're not comfortable, okay?"
Dikhou pressed his lips between Junak's collarbones. "Don't stop," he breathed, before parting his lips and sucking on the skin. He then continued to leave a trail of wet kisses down his chest.
Goosebumps erupted all over Junak's body. He held Dikhou's head to his chest as he arched his back and rolled his hips.
Both of them were too preoccupied to hear the click of the lock or the opening of the door.
And then, bright light poured into the room, jarring and invasive.
Reflexes kicked in and Junak jumped off of Dikhou.
Standing near the door, with his face white and eyes wide, was Junak's elder brother. He was wearing heavy winter clothes and clutching a trolley bag in one hand. A backpack was hanging off one of his shoulders.
Junak hugged himself, very aware of the super obvious bulge he was sporting in his pants. "What are you doing here?" His voice came out a lot shriller than he would've liked.
Puhor blinked. "I could ask you the same, but I don't... I'm not sure if I want to know." He nodded to himself and turned his face away. "I'll be... I'm going to my room now." He stiffly marched into the house. Over his shoulder, he added, "And please get a room so I'm not traumatised again." He paused, then turned back to frown at Junak. "I don't mean it... homophobically. I mean it... generally. Though now that I think of it, I think I'd be more traumatised to see your girlfriend's tits." He quizzically turned to the ceiling. "I prolly shouldn't have said that." He cursed in Hindi, then shrugged and walked away towards his room.
Junak stared after him, his heart beating a mile a minute.
Holy fucking shit!
His hands shook as he put on his shirt and went after his brother.
Puhor's room was still that of a teenager's, frozen in time - with posters from decades ago, dumbbells and a treadmill covered in layers of dust, shelves full of trophies from back when he was in the school football team. That was also the Puhor who Junak was familiar with, not this strange hunky guy with a man-bun of all things.
"What are you doing here?" Junak asked, slamming the door shut behind him.
Puhor's brows shot up, like he was the one being wronged. "It's my house."
"You haven't been here in years!" Junak gestured at a Prince of Persia poster from 2010.
Puhor cringed at that. "Yeah, I need to get the room fixed. But still." He sat down on the bed with his ankles crossed in front of him. He was wearing a really nice pair of Air Jordans that really pissed Junak off. "It's my house. You, on the other hand, shouldn't be doing that in the living room."
Puhor did not look spooked or mad - not that he had any right to. He just looked embarrassed. Waves of relief flooded into Junak when he realised how it could've been way worse: it could've been one of his parents walking in.
"In my head, you're still the diaper-wearing younger brother so it's a little weird," Puhor added, very unnecessarily.
"No one was supposed to be home!"
"Well, same. I thought you were in Nonrong." Puhor smirked. "Who is the guy?"
Junak was already hot but his cheeks still flared. "That's none of your business."
Apparently, Puhor disagreed. "Is he... he's not from the village, is he?"
Junak did not answer.
Puhor swore very colourfully in Hindi. "Damn, dude, how!" He was grinning now, like they were friends or something. "I thought people in the villages were..." He waved a hand.
Junak gritted his teeth. "Being queer is not an urban thing."
"I know, but," Puhor looked absolutely delighted now, "how did you even find him? Do you guys have a secret gay code or something?"
Junak huffed and stomped his feet. "I'm not having this conversation with you."
"Come on! Look how cool I'm being with this. Ma or Papa would've freaked." He chuckled, then noticed Junak's scowl so he sobered and added, "Don't worry, I won't tell them."
"You told Ma I was in Nonrong," Junak accused.
"She asked. And it's not like it was a big secret. It was on your Insta."
Junak was wringing the edge of his shirt. He felt cold now, without his jacket. Without Dikhou. Ugh, stupid Puhor. No matter how many years passed, he never ceased to be annoying. "Why are you here, really? Last I heard you were in... Haryana?"
"Noida," he corrected, which honestly explained a lot. "And I'm here for a break." He beamed and raised both his arms. "I finished Uni, baby brother."
"Don't call me that!"
Puhor rolled his eyes. "Someone hasn't changed, I see."
Junak was so fucking angry at the way Puhor was smiling, like nothing was wrong, like this was something they always did. Baby brother, his ass!
Junak opened the door with an aggressive pull. "Don't tell anyone anything and stay away from me."
Puhor rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something but Junak had already stepped out of the room, shutting the door after him with a loud bang.
Ugh. Stupid. Sibling.
Stupid, annoying, sibling that he never asked for!
Junak's heart was racing as he returned to the drawing room. It was deserted.
He walked into his own room to find Dikhou sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed. He was hunched over his knees with his head downcast.
All the memories returned like a wave of a tsunami; the fire, the desire as well as all the nervousness. "Hey." Junak let out a awkward chuckle. Under the bright lights, he seemed to have lost all his confidence. "P-Puhor won't... uh, he won't tell anyone."
Dikhou did not move.
Panic flared at the pits of Junak's stomach. He took a tentative step forward. "Dikhou?"
Dikhou sucked in a sharp breath and looked up. His eyes were hard and his jaw was uncomfortably tense.
Junak's heart dropped, a lump forming in his throat. As he watched, Dikhou sniffed and rose to his feet.
His bag was packed next to him.
Fuck. No. "Dikhou, w-wait. I - I swear Puhor isn't gonna tell anyone. He's - he's not homophobic either. It's fine. We - we're fine."
Dikhou was avoiding Junak's eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "I have to go."
It felt like a knife to his chest, those words. Junak's breath hitched and a shiver ran up his spine. "N-No, wait."
Dikhou picked up his bag and the dhool and walked out of the room, brushing past Junak without a single glance.
"Wait!" Junak followed, feeling the sharp sting of tears in his eyes. "You can't leave like this. T-Tell me w-what's wrong. I swear Puhor w-won't-"
"It's not that." Dikhou halted at the middle of the drawing room but kept his back to Junak. "It's..." He inhaled sharply and when he let it out, his shoulders dropped. When he finally turned to Junak, the goodbye was clear in his eyes. He was leaving and his mind was made up.
"T-Tell me what's wrong," Junak asked. Or begged, perhaps. Wasn't it just moments before that Dikhou had held him, saying things like I want you? Wasn't it just moments before that everything was fine and amazing and goddamned perfect?
"What are we doing?" Dikhou whispered.
Anger flared then, so sharp it nearly surprised Junak. Why did - why did everyone keep asking him that question? He did not know, he did not know, he did not know and he did not care. "I d-don't know."
Dikhou nodded like he was expecting it. "This was... it was nice. Really. But..." He seemed to be having trouble finding words.
"Nice?" Junak echoed, uncaring of the scorn seeping into his voice. "It w-was nice?"
Dikhou closed his eyes and shook his head. "That's not what I mean."
"Then what do you mean!?"
Dikhou turned away, again, leaving Junak to stare at his back. "I'm not like you, Jun. I don't - this is not a game for me. I'm not playing."
Junak was breathing through his mouth. The anger faded away, leaving him empty. "Neither am I-"
"No? Then why is your brother barely even surprised? Why were you flirting with-?" He broke off abruptly and sighed. He sounded exhausted. "I heard you, you know? I was sitting right next to you. You laughed and said stay there and do what? Farm?"
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "N-No, Dikhou, that is not - none of that is true-"
"You're leaving," Dikhou's voice shook as he hissed out the words. "You will leave in... what, two weeks? You will leave and... you will move on. And I'll be here, left with..." his hand was trembling as he gestured at the space between them, "this."
The world around Junak blurred as tears pooled in his eyes. He opened his mouth to deny, to say no, it's not like that, I like you, I really like you and I care about you, I haven't felt this way for anyone in a long time, maybe ever. Please. Please believe me.
But he did not say anything. Because at the end of the day, he was leaving.
Dikhou walked away towards the door.
Junak watched him go, the distance between them increasing, increasing, increasing...
Dikhou stopped in front of the front door - the exact same place where he had kissed Junak breathless mere moments ago - and said, "Good luck on your film, Junak."
And then he walked out.
Junak stayed frozen, perhaps not even breathing anymore. Tears finally spilled out of his eyes and trickled down his cheeks.