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alezangona · 7 months

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Second Chances (Salaar AU)

Part 1: A Surprise Encounter

Summary: Amidst a crazy wedding season, the Mannar siblings face chance encounters that change the trajectory of their lives.

“Mam,” Bilal’s exasperated tone snaps Radha Rama out of her thoughts and she places the folder she’s holding on the desk, devoting her attention to him.

“What’s the matter, Bilal? Did the Arodha’s want to make another change to their destination wedding because I swear to god, I’ve told them in a million different ways that I cannot get those parrots flown into the island this late in the game without proper permits.”

“No, they’re actually being reasonable this time– if you can believe it.” He lets out a huff of air as he plops down in the chair across from her. “They’ve just decided that veganism is the new trend they want to hop on. Which means they want to drag their family and friends in on it too.”

“No! No, no, no.” Radha Rama squeezes the bridge of her nose, bangles clanging as they move down her arm. “Don’t tell me… the wedding is in three days Bilal!”

“I don’t think they seem to realize that, but anyway, they want new caterers. Baachi was able to reach out to some of his contacts and draw up a contract with one of the best vegan restaurants on the island.” She lets out a small sigh and sinks back into her seat.

“If that situation is handled, then what’s the issue?”

“I was supposed to meet with the Krishnakanths today to discuss their daughter’s wedding, but I just got a call that my son is sick. I need to pick him up from school and take him to the doctor.”

“Oh.” Radha Rama turns to her computer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she observes the screen. “That’s okay Bilal, you handle that. I’ll just send… ah, yes! Varadha is free around then. He can handle it.”

“Thank you, mam! I’m so sorry, I know how important their contract is, especially with how much power Krishnakanth holds. I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t–”

“Bilal,” Radha Rama looks up at him, dark eyes filled with understanding. “I know. I know you wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t urgent. Don’t apologize, not to me, okay? Just make sure your son is okay and we’ll handle your projects till then.”

“You’re the best, boss.” Bilal stands, a relieved smile tugging at his lips.

“Don’t I know it.” She winks, face alight with mischief as she sends him out on his way.

~*~

Varadha’s teeth grit together when he checks his watch, a curse leaving his lips. If there was anything he was proud of, it was his ability to be punctual regardless of any hurdles in his way. He didn't know what his sister was thinking, giving him a new assignment an hour before the meeting time, when she knew he had to make his way through Khansar traffic.

Varadha was nothing if not determined though. So his eyes scan the route on the GPS, mind rapidly putting together the different pieces of the puzzle till a picture flashes in his mind– the exit he could take, followed by the route that could get him to the meeting location as soon as possible. Ten minutes later, he’s sitting at the cafe, his laptop and documents arranged neatly on the table in front of him.

Two minutes later, his foot taps a staccato against the brick patio, still waiting for the family to arrive. After five more minutes of sitting around hoping to catch sight of these rich bastards who don’t seem to give a fuck about other people’s time, Varadha decides it’s best to kill time by being as productive as he possibly can. He pulls out the file Radha Rama handed to him as he was running out the door and flips it open to the page that describes the bride.

Aadhya Krishnakanth. Born and brought up in the States. A doctor initially based out of New York before deciding to move to India. Opened a free clinic for patients in marginalized regions of the country. Lives in Hyderabad with her mother–

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” There’s a sudden pink blur that races through the cafe before crashing down in the seat across from him. “I’m so sorry! I always try so hard not to be late, but you have to understand it’s so difficult with my schedule. There was a surgery today that ended up getting more complicated than we expected and oh god! I’m so sorry!”

“Hey, no it’s okay!” The sudden noise after an excruciating phase of silence is enough to give him whiplash, but seeing how frazzled the poor girl is softens him up like butter. “We’ve all been there. I was late too, to be honest. Stuck in traffic actually but that’s nothing compared to saving lives now that I think about it.” She smiles at him, relieved and thankful, sinking into her seat.

“Aadhya,” she holds out a hand, grinning brightly in the way Americans tend to do. “So nice to meet you…?”

“Varadha. Is anyone else going to be joining us today?”

“Yeah! My parents weren’t able to make it, but my fiancé and f–”

“Ey, Tingari (crazy girl). Wait for me next time, will you?” A towering figure appears behind Aadhya, his arms wrapping around to pull her into a hug that is powerful enough to lift her off her chair for half a second.

“Rey! Let me down!” She swats at him playfully, bringing out a deep and melodic laugh from the man. He does as she requests and takes a seat next to her, an arm draped casually over the back of her chair.

“Hi sir! I’m De-” The sound dies on his lips when he makes out who exactly it is sitting in front of him. “Varadha?”

“Deva?”

“You two know each other?” Aadhya looks between the two of them, confused as to why they look like they’ve seen a ghost. They don’t say anything for a second, too stunned to speak. She might’ve left it well alone if it wasn’t for the fact that she was a nosey little fucker who wanted all the details. So she digs her fingers into the side of Deva’s waist, smirking when he jumps and his attention diverts to her.

“Yeah, we were roommates in college.” Deva mumbles, rubbing his hand over his side and glaring at Aadhya. Something about that answer doesn’t seem to be what Varadha expects because his face darkens for a moment, lips pursing when he takes a second to recompose himself.

“Yeah, roommates. Anyway, today’s meeting isn’t about that. Your father wanted to hire us because of our commitment to excellence in every event that we plan. However, as a company, we prioritize creating unique experiences that are a reflection of our clients and their journey. So I usually like to start by getting an idea of what you’re looking for going forward. It seems that according to the file, you’re hoping for a big wedding?” Deva immediately scoffs at that.

“Deva–” Aadhya starts, a slight blush coating her cheeks.

“What? It’s true.” Deva looks at Varadha then. “She’d prefer a smaller wedding. As small as we can get considering her dad is stuffing the list to the brim with his entire network.”

Varadha can’t find it in him to say anything, so he looks down at the file, making note of the fact. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s digging the pen into the paper though, till the free flowing movement stops and he realizes the pen is stuck in a tiny hole. Swallowing, he pulls it out and looks back up at the couple.

“Well considering we got most of our information from your father, I’m assuming more things in this file are wrong than right?” Varadha hands over the file to the other side of the table. Deva reaches over to grab it, placing it between him and Aadhya as they lean over to read it together. Varadha’s attention catches on how their expressions almost move in synch, going from light frowns to wide-eyed looks of incredulity. “So?”

“Well, they’re not entirely wrong…” Aadhya shrugs at the piece of paper, her hunched posture a direct contradiction to her tone.

“Pichi Pilla (crazy girl),” Deva crosses his arms over his chest and looks directly at Varadha, who can feel the world closing in on him, slowly but surely. “Look, half of this is bull. She wants a smaller wedding, something in India and not a destination abroad. She hates beaches, would probably rather burn herself alive than be caught dead dragging a trail of sand behind her. She loves food, so none of those small plates of Hors D’oeuvres that leave you feeling more hungry after taking a nibble than you were before that. Probably a big giant buffet where people can go back for fourths, that’d be ideal right?”

At that, Aadhya places her hand gently on his arm in an effort to stop him perhaps. Still, she gazes up at Deva with so much warmth, her eyes glassing over just slightly enough to let Varadha know that what Deva said mattered to her. Why he said it, mattered to her. He has to look away from the image in front of him, simply because he knows what it’s like.

Varadha knows what it’s like to be in Aadhya’s place because that’s where he was for the longest time. If anyone knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of Deva’s love and affection, it’s him. It’s no surprise that the memories of that man are etched into every fiber of his being, even after all these years.

The coal-dark eyes that would come to life when Varadha would enter a room. The warm body that would press into his from behind during movie nights on that dingy-ass college couch. The smell of burning food left abandoned on the stove as wine coated lips explored each other against thin walls.

The man who dropped to his knees, begging Varadha to forgive him when–

“I’ll give you two a moment.” Varadha says, pushing out of his chair and walking himself out the door to the cafe. The second he gets to the parking lot, he pulls out the remaining half of a cigarette he bummed from a friend the night before at a party. Smoking wasn’t something he necessarily enjoyed doing. It was an occasional habit he’d picked up after college.

Whenever Deva would feel anxious about something, he’d make his way onto their roof, taking a drag beneath the night sky. Every once in a while, Varadha would join him. More often when he knew times were tough. They’d lie there together in silence for a moment before Deva would point to different constellations and tell him the myths he heard as a child. Deva wasn’t much of a talker with other people, but when he loved people enough to let them into his small circle, conversation was something that dripped from his lips like sweet honey. Once he’d calm down, he’d turn towards Varadha, a look of pure gratitude in his eyes as his chapped lips would brush against his own. The taste of nicotine in those moments used to be so irresistible, because it became the taste of Deva.

That was all it was, to be honest. It wasn’t often that Varadha found himself in distress, but in those rare moments of weakness, the warmth of the cigarette against his lips would remind him of Deva. For some time, it would be as if they were still together, the mistakes of the past erased.

Yet, when the cigarette touches his lips today, it leaves behind a bitter taste. He scoffs as he lets out a puff, scraping his shoes against the ground. Why wouldn’t it? The man he’s in love with, even after all these years, is about to get married to a beautiful, kind, caring woman. His stomach churns uneasily and he gives up, too tired to try and process the day beyond the fact that the man he loves isn’t his anymore. Hasn’t been for a while now.

“Let me have a drag?” Varadha freezes, finger that was about to drop the cigarette tightening around it and passing it along to Deva’s waiting hand without further thought. “Thanks, ra.”

“Should you be smoking at this age? It kills you know?” Deva leans against the car, lips quirking up and he doesn’t bother to hide his amusement at Varadha’s hypocrisy. “I smoke occasionally, I don’t count. You probably do it on a daily basis.”

“Careful, Varadha. You don’t want me thinking you actually care do you?”

“Of course I care!” Varadha pauses, looking to his feet. “You’ve got a nice girl in there. Least you can do is make it to your wedding alive.” Deva’s eyes dig into Varadha’s profile and he can feel his skin rising uncomfortably. “What’s with all the staring?”

“I haven’t seen you in years, B- Varadha. I’m soaking up as much as I can before you go.” He flicks the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out before speaking again. “As for the girl, we’re not together. She’s just a friend.”

Varadha should be embarrassed by the immediate relief he feels at the statement. The churning pit in his stomach disappears in seconds as he takes a moment to really observe the man standing across from him. If it was possible, he was more handsome now than all those years ago. His lanky frame that used to be hidden behind drowning fabrics has now filled out deliciously, the protruding muscles emphasized by the various textured clothing that wrap snugly around him. His wild mane that would stick out in every direction, frizzing out during the humid months, is now styled to perfection with every curl staying in place. His once clean shaven face is now painted with a dark beard that makes him look less like the boy next door and more like a rugged stranger that Varadha wouldn’t mind running into during a night out. The tattoo wrapping around Deva’s arm further emphasizes that particular fantasy of his.

Was it pathetic how in love with him he still was? If Radha Rama was here with him, she wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.

“What about her fiancé?”

“He’s running late. His flight’s coming in from L.A. today. I just wanted to hop along because I knew if she was alone she’d say yes to all the shit her dad had laid out for her.” Deva lights another cigarette he pulls out of his pocket, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke settle in his lungs before he lets out a puff of air that fades into the afternoon breeze.

“Is that why you’re so stressed?” Varadha leans against the car as well, a couple of inches away from Deva. The hairs on his body stay on edge, aware of the electrical pulse that beats between them. He tries not to let that distract him.

“Please, I can handle Krishnakanth.” Deva passes the cigarette back to Varadha, who forces himself not to think about the fact that Deva’s lips were wrapped against the paper just seconds ago. He fails miserably. “He doesn’t mean any harm really. He’s a good man who just wants to see his daughter taken care of and she hasn’t met anyone she’s fallen for yet. So, why not say yes to marriage to make her family happy?”

“What about her? Will she be happy?” The look Deva gives him is enough for Varadha to understand and he keeps quiet, not knowing what else to say.

“Meeting you today was a surprise.” Deva offers and Varadha takes greedily.

“For me as well.” He admits, fingers coming up to play with his watch.

“You look good Varadha. You look happy.”

“Well… that’s open to interpretation.”

“You’re not happy?” Deva crushes the cigarette against the ground, rigidity taking over his body once more.

“I’m doing well, Deva. That should be enough right?”

“Not for me. It shouldn’t be for you either. What’s wrong Varadha? What’s missing?” Deva steps closer to him, the scent of his cologne surrounding Varadha in an intoxicating cloud. Maybe that’s what allows for him to let his guard down.

“You,” the word passes uninterrupted from his lips. “You’re missing from my life and I’ve wanted you back every day since–”

Deva takes a step back, snapping Varadha out of his daze. The broken expression on his face makes Varadha feel like an absolute asshole.

“Shit, Deva. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–”

“I left that day because you asked me to. Not because I wanted to.” Varadha sucks in a sharp breath at the admission, mouth falling shut.

“I know. I shouldn’t have said anything, especially after all this time. Just because I haven’t moved on doesn’t mean the same applies to you.” Varadha looks away, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t owe me anything, Deva. Not after everything, but I need you to know that I regret what I did back then. Not a day goes by where I don’t wish that it played out differently because then maybe…” He swallows, stopping the words in his throat. The images play in his mind though, of an intimate wedding, a beautiful house on the edge of the river, a small child’s laugh echoing through the property.

“Yeah, well… I wish it played out differently too.” Deva takes in a deep breath, his gaze resting on the horizon. “I haven’t gotten over you either.”

“Oh?”

“So, where does that leave us? Are we just going to get that off our chests and never see each other again? Because I’m getting old, Varadha. I don’t think I have energy to wait anymore.” Deva hangs his head, hands tucked into his pockets.

Varadha can’t help but to think of how his life passed by in a blink of an eye over the past two decades. A lifetime of memories that felt as if they hadn't been experienced, not in the way they were meant to. All the moments of joy and pride, sadness and pain, nothing more than fleeting emotions that refused to ground themselves into the core of his very being. When he’d lie in bed at night, desperately trying to find a reason for this ache, Deva’s name would echo through his mind and he’d wonder how he could’ve ever been blind to it before.

Why did he ever let that man go?

“I won’t make you wait, not this time.” Varadha’s hand intertwines with Deva’s, touch as gentle as a feather brushing against glass. “Let’s start over?”

~*~

6 Months Later

Varadha makes deliberate cuts into the meat in front of him, trying hard to clear out any remaining bones so the previous week’s episode doesn’t unfold a second time. Sure he and his sister had their fair share of fights, but nothing drastic enough where we wanted to murder her through way of choking on a bone.

“Bujji?” The call comes simultaneously with the thud of the front door closing.

“In the kitchen.” Varadha replies, refusing to break his concentration.

“Here’s the sauce you asked for. They didn’t have the brand you usually get, but this seemed like it’d be good too.” Deva sets the glass container next to Varadha, leaning in to place a quick peck against his cheek. Varadha hears a sound of disgust from behind him and he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“You make a fuss now, but the second I put down the food, you’re the first to gobble it up.”

“You see how gross uncooked meat is right? Your chopping skills don't help the image either.”

“Rey–”Varadha turns, holding the knife threateningly towards Deva.

“Calm down, Kick Buttowski. Get back to work and look out for any bones. I’m not about to lose my favorite Mannar sibling to something smaller than a lima bean again.”

“Don’t let Baachi hear you say that. It’ll break his heart.”

“I’m sure it will. After all, we’re attached at the hip, the two of us.” Deva chuckles as he opens up a bottle of wine for them. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do to impress that kid. He’ll just hate me for the rest of his life.”

“He doesn’t hate you!” Varadha defends instantly, putting down his knife now that he was finished with his thorough inspection.

“The bruise from when he chucked a volleyball at my head last week begs to differ.” Varadha washes his hands meticulously before heading over to Deva and pulling him down to place a lingering kiss on his left temple, where the remnants of a pretty terrible bruise were finally starting to fade.

“You have a point, but he does it out of love. I swear.” Deva shakes his head at the comment before handing Varadha a glass of wine.

“No, me putting up with his murderous tendencies is what’s done out of love.” Deva whips out his phone and taps against the screen. A soft Hindi melody plays from the speakers and Varadha smiles at his boyfriend at the gesture. “But I can put up with that till death as long as you keep kissing all the wounds better.”

“God, you’re such a sap.” Varadha complains, but there’s no malice behind it. Just the light hearted tone that comes from being in love with an unbelievably sweet idiot. So he grabs at Deva’s shirt and tugs him in closer for a deep kiss. A small moan escapes his throat when he tastes his favorite wine lingering on Deva’s lips. The various notes of fruit, spices, and coco dust intermingle seamlessly into the unique flavor that belongs to Deva, and Varadha can’t possibly get enough. His fingers tangle into the taller man’s hair, pushing off the ground to wrap his legs around Deva’s waist. A grunt of surprise leaves Deva’s lips, but he’s quick to catch on to Varadha and move towards the counter. Placing Varadha down gives him more leeway than before, so he digs his ankles into the small of Deva’s back, pulling him closer to gain more access to his mouth.

“Rey,” Deva groans as he forces himself to pull away. “God stop teasing me. We have guests coming over soon.”

“They can wait.” Varadha’s teeth catch against the bottom of his earlobe, nipping playfully. “They’ll understand that a chef deserves his kiss.”

“I don’t know that chef is the right word when all that’s sitting out right now is a lump of meat.”

“Whyyyyy!” Varadha whines as he pulls away from his hot boyfriend. “Why do you do this to me? What’s the point of having a sexy boyfriend if I can’t make out with him whenever I want.”

“You can still ogle me.” Deva winks at him. “Now, stop pouting and get to cooking. We have the rest of the night once they leave.”

“It would take a S.W.A.T. team to evacuate them out of this apartment post dinner. The second Aadhya whips out the cards, everyone’s going to settle in for a round of poker and before we know it, she’ll have us drowning in debt.”

“Drowning you in debt. The rest of us actually win every once in a while.” Deva comments, making his way into Varadha’s room to change.

Varadha spends the next hour quickly shuffling through the kitchen and preparing the feast, while Deva tidies up around the apartment and sets up the dining table. They idly exchange stories from their day, where Deva speaks of his cute Kindergarteners who gifted him a paper crown that was more glue than paper at this point, while Varadha complains about how billionaires shouldn’t be allowed to get married because it is quite frankly impossible (potentially unethical) to bring in a whole herd of elephants just so the celebrity guests could make a grad entrance to the reception. Which would pale in comparison when the newlyweds would enter on the backs of lions. That idea was vetoed pretty quickly by him and his sister, thank god.

“Ey, Macha!” Aadhya bustles in just as they finish getting ready, a tray of brownies in hand. “This is about to be the best dessert of your lives! Crumb coffee cake brownies, made by yours truly.”

“There were supposed to be two trays, but I downed one on the way here!” Radha Rama shouts from near the entryway. A wide smile settles on Aadhya’s face.

“Seal of approval from the best Mannar sibling!” Aadhya declares happily as she grabs herself a hard cider from their fridge.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Varadha frowns in his sister’s direction. “What’s so special about you besides an undiagnosed sugar addiction?”

“I’m the one who’s kept this circus afloat for years, kid. Show some respect!” Radha Rama smirks as she pushes past her brother, making her way over to Aadhya and wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Don’t take it too seriously, Bujji.” Deva laughs leaning against the counter. “Our Tingari Pilla is just too in love with her girlfriend to see things objectively.”

“It’s not just her.” Baachi comes stomping into the apartment, carrying a heaving box of decorations that he plops unceremoniously to the ground. “Considering they’ve been using me as a pack mule for this wedding, the least you can do is declare me the best Mannar sibling instead of tucking tail and following my brother around like a lost puppy.”

In the blink of an eye, the siblings start bickering, bringing up every moment from the past in an effort to one up each other. Deva and Aadhya choose to sit back silently, watching the event play out in front of them.

“We’ll get to dinner soon, right?” Aadhya asks, anxiously gazing at the clock.

“Yeah… as soon as your girlfriend stops trying to rip my boyfriend to shreds with that pillow?” Deva’s brow furrows as he tries to determine when exactly the physical fight broke out.

“I’m going to be honest Deva. I think tonight’s the night we confess to them.”

“Confess what?”

“You know? That there’s no superior Mannar sibling because all of them are certifiably insane?”

“And that we’re the angels for putting up with them?”

“Mhm. Exactly!” Aadhya places down her cider and makes her way into the sibling’s circle to drag Radha Rama out by the arm. “Food first, fighting later. I refuse to eat cold lasagna again, Babe.”

They spend the rest of the night eating, drinking, and playing poker. Varadha loses every round and at some point, he gives up and leans against Deva’s side instead, inadvertently becoming a part of his team. It’s something he realizes he should do more often because he likes the feeling of winning every once in a while, even if it was his boyfriend doing most of the work.

By the time everyone leaves, Varadha can barely keep his eyes open. He leans his forehead against the door, eyes closed as he allows the silence to envelop him.

“Rey, come to bed.” Deva places a hand on his shoulder to peel him off the door.

“The door is so soft though.” Varadha slurs through wine drunk lips.

“The bamboo pillows you brought are softer, I promise. Come on now.”

Soon, the two of them are tangled up under Varadha’s sheets, holding each other close as they let the day finally slow down around them.

“This is getting annoying.” Varadha murmurs into Deva’s chest.

“What, family dinners? I love you Bujji, but you have to stop picking fights with your sister. We could get to eating faster for one thing.”

“No!” Varadha shoves Deva away before pulling him back when he realizes how cold it is. “No, you asshole. I meant having to work around our schedules to see each other recently.”

“Oh, that.” Deva hums and settles closer to Varadha. “I’ve been trying to find apartments closer to this side of the city. I think that could fix the scheduling conflict a little.”

“Rent in Pathran is abhorrent, Bangarm.”

“So? What’s your solution?”

“Move in with me?”

“Okay, yeah, sure.” Deva places a peck on Varadha’s head, chuckling a little.

“I’m being serious. Move in with me.” Varadha insists.

“I know, but let’s talk about this tomorrow when you’re less tipsy.”

Varadha groans, asking the gods silently why they fated him to fall in love with an oblivious, asshole of a man. He reaches over to switch on the lights and because he was just a little annoyed with Deva, he revels when the man shields his eyes from the sudden onslaught.

“Now you can look at me and see how serious I am when I ask this. Move in with me, Deva.” Varadha intertwines their hands together when their gazes meet. “It’s as simple as this: I’m happiest when I’m with you and I hate not being around you. I love it when you walk into the apartment, I love it when you help me cook, I love it when you help me clean. I love it when you curl up with me to watch a movie, I love it when you read next to me before bed, I love it when I see your teaching plans scattered across my desk. I even love it when you’re grading your students’ art projects and all the glitter falls onto the carpet. Nothing I do gets rid of it and I keep finding it everywhere, even in my coffee! I just love you so can we go back to being roommates? Please?”

The way Deva flips him over onto his back and devours him is answer enough.

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