I hope you enjoy this free, original short.
~*~
Ashraf watched Kamal unhook the last rope of tiny twinkle lights, his long-fingered and capable hands sifting through the tangles and knots with ease. Diwali had long since come and gone, but they’d kept the haveli lit up for Rocky, who was flying back and forth to Mumbai for a film shoot. Because, as his brother Taj was constantly pointing out, she brightened every room.
“She should be welcomed home every time with the same
light.”
“Bhai, when
did you turn into a chocolate hero? Are you sure you are feeling okay?”
“Shut up, Ashu. Better hero than zero, na?”
They were a Muslim household with atheist sensibilities, but
for Ashu’s soon-to-be sister-in-law they’d all learned a little bit of
faith…and so much joy. How could they not give her Diwali, Christmas and all
the stars in the sky? And only after Rocky had scolded Taj about wasting
electricity had he decided the decorations could come down.
Kamal volunteered for the task, spending hours each day
working on a particular corner of the house. Quiet. Efficient. He gave himself
to this like he did everything else. His rounds at the hospital. His care of
Taj. Reading the Quran with Naani since
her two grandsons were too lapsed and too lazy to touch the holy book. There
was nothing Kamal didn’t do with his entire concentration.
“You don’t have to do this,” Ashraf reminded now, leaning
against a pillar on the back veranda. He’d been watching today’s progress for
twenty minutes, unashamedly enjoying the stretch of Kamal’s blue kurta across his shoulders. “You don’t work for us.”
“Don’t I, Chote?”
Kamal’s smile was beatific, a different kind of glow than a haveli wreathed in lights. The tiny bulbs he wound into
coils were artificial, but his smile held true warmth.
Ashraf was becoming accustomed to that heat. He wanted to
put his palms out and soak it in. More than that, he wanted Kamal to kiss his
fingertips. He wanted the friction of beard against his skin. He wanted the
soft huff of breath and the painfully gentle touch of a mouth on his.
He wanted what he was being denied.
“You’re not ready,” he’d been told, from a respectable
distance of three feet. “You are still healing.”
“You heal me,” he’d
insisted, to no avail.
Kamal had simply shaken his head and picked up the medicine
bottle on his nightstand. As if the antidepressants were all evidence to the
contrary. Ashu took them daily, and the darkness that had consumed him months
ago had shrunk to shadows. He no longer woke with nightmares. He could almost
go a week without remembering how Nina had twisted and tormented him, taking
something as beautiful as sex and making it commerce.
What Kamal did for him, for their family…was not a
transaction. It didn’t come with strings. And it didn’t hurt. “If you worked
for me, you’d listen to me,” Ashraf murmured, with a touch of the petulant,
spoiled film star he’d never quite managed to become. “You’d hold me when I ask
you. Touch me when I ask you. Hain na?” Isn’t
that so?
At last those perfect hands faltered. The strings of lights
fell to the close-clipped grass. Kamal looked up, the expression in his
fathomless dark eyes mirroring Ashu’s hunger and need. Not so strong now, was
he? Not so immune. Not so efficient or quiet. “Ashraf.” The single word was heavy. Gorgeous. Not the
age-old tease of “Little Sir.”
His name had never sounded so right. It belonged in the
wrappings of this man’s low voice. Just as he belonged in his arms.
Ashu stepped off the veranda, closing the space between them
in two strides. “You don’t have to be careful with me. I’m not going to break.”
“I may.” The barely
audible Hindi was precise, formal and flawless…and devastating, honest, and
naked. “I may shatter, Ashraf. And then where will we be?”
He shrugged. “Then I’ll pick up your pieces. Every single
one. And I’ll put you back together.” Kamal made a choked noise. His fists
clenched and unclenched. Ashu reached for one, slowly uncurling the tight roll
of fingers. “Please,” he said, softly, stroking his thumb across whitened
knuckles. “Please. I miss you.”
“Where have I gone?” The hollow rebuttal was punctuated by a
shiver, a bowed head and a laugh that was just shy of lunatic. “I am right here
before you.”
“It’s still too far away.” He placed Kamal’s open palm
against his jaw, crowded him until scant inches and thin cotton were all that
separated their skin. Ashraf could breathe him like this. He could taste him
like this. The swell of his lower lip. The slender bow of the top one beneath
his neatly trimmed mustache. It was a mouth that begged to be taken. So he took
it. “Kiss me,” he coaxed, as he leaned in, as he barely touched him. A caress.
A tease. A plea. “Love me.”
Kamal’s reserve crumbled with a harsh groan, his free hand
coming up to grip the base of Ashu’s neck as he kissed him back. Their first of
such contact, too long in the making, and it was everything he’d ever wanted.
Cloves, spice, and that wonderful heat…kindling a fire that spread out of
control from Ashraf’s tongue to his groin.
“I’ve never done anything else.” Kamal spoke fiercely into
the tiny gap between their seeking mouths. “I’ve always loved you. Always.”
If kisses were fire, words were the sweet burn. Ashu
shuddered, sliding one leg between Kamal’s knees, aligning their bodies as if
they were one flesh and one heart. “Then let me love you back. Always.”
They stood there for hours, tangled like ropes of Diwali
lights, and welcomed each other home.
~*~
Seva is Sanskrit for selfless service, which describes Kamal's core ethic to a tee.
For the beginning of Kamal and Ashraf’s story, pick up Bollywood
and the Beast.
Available at all major e-tailers.
What a delightful return to the Bollywood Confidential universe! The vivid imagery of Diwali lights lingering for Rocky is a charming touch. The banter between Ashraf and Kamal adds a perfect blend of humor and warmth. The characters feel alive, and your writing effortlessly draws readers back into the enchanting world you've created. Looking forward to more! Registro Central Violencia Doméstica Nueva Jersey
ReplyDeleteOrden Protección Nueva Jersey
Truck accident lawyer plays a crucial role in helping victims of truck accidents obtain the compensation and justice they deserve, allowing them to rebuild their lives and move forward after a traumatic event. Truck accident lawyer
ReplyDelete