Archive of Our Own ^beta

Deva lounges in the spare chair in Varadha’s room, waiting for his lover to come back from his shower. It’s the last night both of them will spend in Pathraan, most of Varadha’s important belongings already packed up and sent off to Kotagadi, where Varadha will officially start reigning as Khansaar’s kartha. Varadha had only needed, when he heard the news that he should move into Raja Mannar’s old quarters in the palace, to give Deva that hopeful-shy look for Deva to immediately agree to move in with Varadha there as well. There had been muffled giggles throughout the room, as Deva sleeping in the same bed as Varadha at Pathraan could be explained as Deva protecting Varadha, but with the entire Khansaar military at Varadha’s command now? With Rudra and Ranga dead? It was as good as publicly declaring their relationship. 

Deva didn’t care, he belonged to Varadha in every way and wasn’t worried about what others might think of them. Varadha had smiled, a radiant blush on his face, and Deva knew Varadha felt the same way. 

He idly fiddles with his father’s necklace as he hears the sound of the water turning off, then smiles as he hears the lotion bottle hit the floor and Varadha’s consequent curses. His Varadha, such an enigma. He could be as graceful as an angel one second, then clumsy enough to walk into walls the next. It’s a few more minutes later when he hears the bathroom door open, and Varadha walks out. 

Deva spins around in the chair, about to give Varadha the updates on the small mining colony Varadha had sent Rinda to pacify, but his breath catches in his throat as he looks at a very undressed Varadha. 

Varadha had come out in a simple white towel covering his lower half, vigorously drying his wet hair with a smaller one. The arm muscles, flexing as they were lifted up to his hair, nipples hard from the cold, defined abs, and a small, dark trail of hair leading down into the towel were on display for Deva, who subconsciously licks his lips. Varadha turns and leans down on his desk, frowning at a message on his phone, and Deva gets an uninterrupted view of his back. All of a sudden, images run through Deva’s mind: his hands surrounding those hips, holding on as he fucks into Varadha, a palm splayed between Varadha’s shoulder blades, his own nails digging into the soft skin, leaving marks as Varadha pounds into him. He imagines, and he aches . Deva hadn’t even known he could feel hunger like this, but of course it would be Varadha, it would always be Varadha. 

Varadha turns to him, and Deva belatedly realizes he’s been talking to him all this time. Varadha gets a good look at him, realizing he hasn’t been paying attention to a single thing Varadha was saying, and frowns. 

“Are you okay, Deva?” He tilts his head, waiting for an answer, but the combination of Varadha saying Deva’s name like that, like he was someone dear to Varadha, and the state of undress that Varadha’s in is scrambling Deva’s brain. 

“I’m fine, raa. What were you saying?” He tries to cover up for himself, pretending it was a momentary lapse in focus, but Varadha’s eyes are sharp. 

Varadha slowly advances on him, paying close attention to Deva’s face, and fuck Deva’s only human. Without his permission, Deva’s eyes drop down to the bare, golden chest in front of him. Varadha comes to a stop mere inches away from Deva, who holds his breath. 

“Were you ogling me?” He sounds more amused than annoyed, but Deva’s face burns anyway. He looks to his side, not wanting to look at Varadha’s body, but not wanting to look in his eyes either. Quickly, Varadha clamps one hand on the headrest of the chair, and uses the other to cup Deva’s jaw, forcing him to look at Varadha’s face, stray water droplets dripping down from his wet hair. This close, Deva can smell the scent of freshly washed skin, soap with a hint of jasmine, and his mouth waters. It takes everything in him to not draw Varadha closer, to run his lips over every inch of exposed skin, to not worship Varadha as he wants, as Varadha deserves. 

He finally lifts his gaze to Varadha’s eyes, sparkling with mischief and joy. Varadha grins down at him. “Ah, I was wondering when this side of you would show, or if it would be chaste kisses and nightly cuddles for the rest of my life.” 

Deva pauses, realizing this was what Varadha wanted. “Well that side of me is here. What do you want him to do?” Varadha observes him for a moment, then climbs into Deva’s lap . Deva’s brain short circuits for a few seconds, realizing the only barrier between him and Varadha’s bare skin is the thin towel between them. Varadha trails his fingers up Deva’s face, settling in his hair, smoothing it and tugging on it in alternating motions. 

“What do you want to do, raa?” Everything, Deva wants to answer, but his tongue won’t work. “Do you want to..look?” Keeping eye contact, Varadha slowly removes the towel, tossing it onto the bed, and straightens up, clear permission for Deva to do exactly that. 

Deva looks down, following the trail of hair down his abdomen, finding Varadha’s cock resting on the zip of his own pants with how they’re pressed against each other, not yet hard but not entirely soft either, surrounded by curly black hair. Fuck. Deva wants it. In his hands, in his mouth, in his ass. He’d guess it’s not as long as his own, but thicker, and he knows the stretch would be exquisite. He looks down further, taking in the sight of the golden, hairy thighs wrapped around his stomach. 

“Do you want to..touch?” Varadha asks, and Deva nods, swallowing. He hesitantly lifts up a hand, slowly inching towards the gorgeous skin. He doesn’t even know where he wants to touch first, settles on Varadha’s sternum as it’s directly in front of his face. Varadha, seemingly impatient, grabs Deva’s hand and presses it to his chest, both gasping slightly at the contact. “Rey, why are you hesitating? All of mine is yours, and all of yours is mine.” 

Emboldened, Deva takes his time exploring all of Varadha, noticing how Varadha’s cock is getting harder at the touches. He trails up, at first, tracing the planes of Varadha’s neck, the marks that his daily silver necklaces leave behind. Maps out Varadha’s face, his jaw, his strong nose, stroking his mukku pogu from a flash of childhood memory. Runs his fingers over the long lashes, strong brows. He comes back down, tugging at the softened nipples until they’re hard again, flicking his finger against the buds until Varadha’s squirming with every movement. Trails a hand down Varadha’s chest, fingers splayed over his stomach possessively, until finally he takes Varadha’s cock in his hands. Varadha does jolt at that, moaning at the touch. Deva looks up, trying to decipher what Varadha wants, and the other man pulls him into a kiss. It’s unlike any of their previous kisses, Varadha kissing with a fierceness that excites Deva. Varadha pulls back an inch, breaths intermingling as he whispers another order, “Fuck me.”

Deva makes a desperate sound at that, at the thought of getting to be inside Varadha. “How? Any way you want, bangaram.”

“Just like this. I’ve been dreaming of sitting on the Khansaar throne for years, but I’ve also been dreaming of sitting in your lap, of fucking myself on my own personal throne.” Varadha tugs Deva’s head back by the hair, grinning when Deva moans at the pain. “You’ll do anything I say, won’t you, raa? You’ll be still and let me use you as I see fit.” Deva frantically nods, his own dick rock hard at the fantasy of Varadha using him like a sex toy, using Deva to chase his pleasure. 

“I’ll do anything you say,” Deva repeats, and it comes out like a prayer, an offering of worship, “Kartha Varadharaja Mannar.” Varadha’s eyes darken at the title, dragging Deva up for another kiss. When they break apart once more, Deva sighs. “You do have to get off for me to find some lube, though.”

One side of Varadha’s mouth curls up, smug, and there’s a glint in his eyes that Deva finds very sexy. “It’s on the desk right next to you, which you would’ve known if you had been paying attention to anything I was doing other than the way my back muscles looked.” Deva chuckles at that as he reaches over for the bottle, but he doesn’t regret anything. It was an amazing view. “And besides,” Varadha can’t hold back the grin, and it seeps into his voice, “you don’t need to do much, anyway. I’ve come prepared.” He winks at Deva, and the realization nearly sends Deva directly to heaven. 

“..Is that why you spent so long in the shower?”

There’s a tiny blush on Varadha’s cheeks now, and Deva stares at the red spots, transfixed at his lover’s ability to be both adorable and sexy at the same time. “It’s also why I had a bottle of lube tucked into my towel coming out, but of course you didn’t notice.”

“Varadha..” It comes out breathy and desperate, but well, Deva is desperate at this point. Varadha notices, and takes the bottle from Deva’s hands, telling Deva to unzip and pull his pants down. Once Deva’s lower half is bare, he drizzles a bit of the lube onto Deva’s dick, spreading it around, and fuck if this is what only his hands are doing to Deva then he’s really going to die- throws the lube somewhere to the corner. It’s not as methodical as what he did to the towel, Deva notices, and thrills in the feeling of knowing Varadha is just as desperate for this. 

Varadha lifts himself up, aligning Deva’s cock with his hole, and sinks down a little bit, splaying his hands on Deva’s chest to hold himself up. They both groan in unison at the feeling of Deva’s tip breaching Varadha’s hole, and Varadha slowly pushes down until Deva’s bottomed out. He leans onto Deva’s shoulder to get used to the feeling of being so full, closing his eyes, and Deva presses a kiss to his temple. 

Once he adjusts, Varadha experimentally rolls his hips, moaning at the sensation. Deva holds onto Varadha’s hips as he starts lifting himself up and sinking back down, fucking himself on Deva’s dick, increasing in speed as the minutes pass by. 

“Rey,” Deva gasps out. “I’m not going to last if you keep going like that.”

“That’s- ah- that’s the goal,” Varadha says, chuckling. There’s a thin layer of sweat covering Varadha’s body, making the dark hair glisten. He still smells of jasmine, and is making the most beautiful sounds Deva has ever heard. 

Deva wraps a hand around Varadha’s cock bouncing between them, tugging it in time with Varadha’s thrusts, and Varadha’s moans grow in intensity. It doesn’t take long before Varadha’s spilling between them, covering Deva’s chest, and the sight of that as well as the knowledge that he had made Varadha cum pushes Deva over the brink as well, spilling deep inside of Varadha. 

Varadha slumps onto Deva, pressing his forehead against the other man’s as he kisses Deva deeply, pulling back after a few beats with a contented sigh. Deva cups Varadha’s face in his hands, smiling at his minx of a lover, and Varadha turns his head slightly to press a kiss to Deva’s thumb. Eyes sparkling, Varadha teases, “Are you going to just stare at me all day or join me under the water? Especially when it’s your fault I’ll have to take a second shower.”

Deva scoffs in mock offense. “My fault? How is it my fault when this was all the carefully orchestrated plan of the kartha? I just followed orders.”

Varadha rolls his eyes, lifting himself up to slip out of Deva and getting back on his feet, dragging Deva up with him. “Come on, my Salaar,” he says, amused. “You are duty-bound to care for your Sulthan and now it means washing him up.” 

Deva grins. “Your wish is my command, kartha.”