[Dedicated to Al, my Guru ji, who prompted: During the Diwali with Aarav, Arnav triggers a fight with Khushi about the money issue and a power struggle ensues - IN BED. #angrysex #blatantrequest]

Warning: Mature, frequent use of expletives, ~4k words.

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SEE RED

To fall into a state of extreme anger, excitement, or competitive arousal, such as might cloud one's judgement or senses.

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The white kurta was her favourite. 

It was the most expressive display of indulgence from Arnav to his wife. And if they weren't discussing his problematic parenting ideals, Khushi might have been ripping the kurta off his body, instead of his head.

"Arnav ji, don't you realise you rewarded Aarav for his misbehavior? He needs to learn that money is not an infinite resource - one needs to work hard for it." Khushi chided him.

"Khushi, hard work and behavior are two very separate things." Arnav dismissed her, "And what are you trying to say? You're confused and you're confusing me."

Khushi took a deep breath and collected her thoughts. It was difficult to argue with a man who's beauty increased with his arrogance, and Arnav Singh Raizada always managed to look his handsome best in the most inappropriate situations.

Like in the hut. He stood by the window, bathed in moonlight. His sweaty, taut muscles visible in a thin vest that left little to imagination. But they were also surrounded by goons, hence he came up with a hairbrained scheme to save themselves.

Like now, in a deep v necked kurta that revealed just enough of his chiseled pectoral, his stubble a day old (the way she liked) and his voluminous hair gelled back to perfection - he was an arresting figure. But of course, it's Diwali and nothing right ever happens to them on this festival. Example, Arnav's idea of teaching 'manners' to Aarav by buying him every expensive gift on this planet.

That thought alone had the power to bring Khushi right out of her head and back into the argument.

"Arnav ji, I'm just saying that-" Arnav groaned at her tirade.

"Don't. I can take care of any decision related to money."

Khushi blinked twice at her husband. Arnav believed he had known that look very well. On any other day it would be the code name for undisguised wonder, apprehension, misunderstanding, or a very basic and his favourite - let's fuck now.

"What do you mean?" You think, because I don't earn, that I cannot say anything about this?" She snapped.

Oh, he missed out on anger.

"Khushi-" Arnav drawled, "you know I didn't say that." Trust Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada to make a mountain of a molehill.

"You did! And you're forgetting the fact that I can earn money and I have. I run a dabba service." Khushi huffed.

"You ran a dabba service." He pointed out. Khushi balked, her pride and ego taking the brunt.

"So, if I want I can earn more money than you today-" Arnav chuckled at her declaration. An angry Khushi was a sight to behold. Especially when she was focused and passionate in her ideas - as in now, how she listed out the small ways she helped his company. If he wasn't a blind idiot back then, he would have offered his gratitude. Preferably alone and naked.

"And if you are the great who you think yourself to be, then you would have never needed my help." All of Arnav's musings came at a halt. Her help? AR Corporations was his pride and success.

In her rant, where her mouth ran faster than her intellect, she did not notice the fury seeping in his eyes. Nor the fact that her contribution to his company's one hundred and five million dollars annual turnover was nothing.

His jaws clenched, finger fisted into a ball and nose flared at her off handed comment.

Khusi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada missed all the signs of an angry Arnav Singh Raizada.

"So don't even think I can't live in this harsh world-"

"No you can't!" Arnav snapped, taking two wide steps towards her, his body thrumming in rage. As predicted, Khushi took a step back, intimidated. And this woman just claimed to be able to live in the harsh world?

His fingers itched to grab her shoulders and yank her to reality but he stood firm, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"You can't live in the real world because you need money to sustain. And you need intelligence to earn money. Courage and confidence to face the world. To fulfill your dreams. And you have none of these qualities." In his rant, he missed out on her clenched fingers, parted lips, arched eyebrows.

Arnav Singh Raizada, too, failed to notice all the warnings of an angry Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada.

"Frying jalebis and running a business are two separate things. Do you get it?" He moved past her.

"What the fuck did you say?" Arnav stopped short on his tracks. Khushi seethed, her body shaking with rage.

"What did you just say?" He growled.

"What the fuck did you say." She enunciated each word, lingering on the expletive.

"Don't cuss." He warned her.

"Hypocrite." She folded her arms across her stomach, her heart throbbing wildly against her chest. The gall her husband had to call out her cussing when he was rather fond of the word and the activity!

"Don't use that tone with me." He slowly prowled towards her. Khushi stood firm on her feet, her eyes locked with his.

"You don't use that tone!" Khushi retorted.

"Stop repeating after me." Arnav attempted to keep his anger in check.

"What else can I do? Unfortunately you are married to a penniless, brainless, indecisive woman who can only fry goddamn jalebis." Khushi struggled to keep her voice down, her cheeks flushing in anger and humiliation.

"Shut the fuck up Khushi," Arnav cussed.

"Aap shut the fuck-" Khushi didn't get to complete her sentence as Arnav gripped her by shoulders and pinned her to the wall, his legs trapping hers. Incensed, Khushi glared right at him, barely afraid of the storm brewing in his eyes.

"What did I tell you about cursing?" His words were now a mere whisper, floating above her lips. Khushi was breathless with anger, her lips parted in irritation and astonishment.

"But you just cursed!" She protested.

"It's different when I do-" Khushi gasped at his audacity. The nerve of that blasted-

"-you like it." He finished. Khushi stiffened in his grip.

"A-aap..." She stammered.

"H-haan, main?" He mimicked her.

In a flash she wriggled her arms free and shoved against his chest. Fury coursed his veins, he did not like being pushed. Khushi heaved, her bangles chiming loud. Her hair came loose from its pins. Pushing her fringe back, Khushi noted his silent stare.

"What? What are you looking at? You're getting angry? YOU are getting angry! Be upset, do whatever you want. Stop flaring your nose! You want to break things - go ahead, it's your room - break anything-"

Arnav flipped the side table.

"Yes I'll break anything and everything until you stop behaving like a brat!" Arnav further kicked the offending table, it kept coming in his way ever since his pretend honeymoon with Khushi!

"You are raising a brat!" Khushi countered, "and one more thing Mr. Raizada," Arnav raised an eyebrow "I can live in this world alone because I have. I can do anything on my own."

"Anything?" He challenged.

"Anything. I can cuss, I can break things, I can leave this room and face the world-" Before Khushi could storm off, she was yanked right back to her spot - with Arnav holding the other end of her dupatta. She tried to tug it out of his hand but he did not budge, not even by half an inch. The more force she applied, the more firm his grip became.

Arnav carefully watched his wife, flushing as red as the lehenga she wore, trying to free her dupatta in futility. Her bosom heaved and bangles chimed with each attempt. And she refused to look at him!

"L-leave my dupatta." She mustered, after a moment. The brooch holding her dupatta to her choli was in a dangerous state of being ripped off.

"Why? You can do anything, right?" With one flick of his wrist Khushi crashed right against him and the sleeve of her choli slipped off her shoulder. "First try to take two steps, then open your mouth."

Khushi looked - finally! - at him to teach him a lesson on opening his godforsaken mouth, but she was instantly met with the sight of his soft, full lips. Every retort died in her tongue. Her eyes swept over his face, noting the clenched jaw, his sharp nose and his dark eyes. A loose fleck of hair fell across his forehead.

Oh my sweet Devi Maiya.

She left her grip to push against his chest but he anticipated her move and grabbed her wrist with his free hand. A soft gasp left her lips as her fingertips brushed through the bare skin through the v of his kurta.

She could smell his cologne, it was her favourite one - heady, fresh and reminiscent of the ocean. Her fingers curled back, nails digging in her palms, before she could lose further sense of control and push his hair away from his forehead.

Or run her fingers through his hair to bring his face closer to hers, if it were further possible.

Oh it had been long since they had sex. The last time they did it was his birthday - another important day marred by impossible arguments and illogical reasoning.

But it ended well, very well. She had held onto the sheets and his hair, keeping him in place as he ate his desert. Once capable of thought, she had to wonder who's birthday it was in the first place. Once capable of action, she enthusiastically returned the favor.

Her throat parched. The glass of water by their bed was tempting.

Arnav sensed her shift and left her wrist to snake his hand up her back, dragging his fingertips along her spine, to grip the base of her neck. Her pulse was rapid, breath warm and pupils dilated.

Unable to take his heady gaze, Khushi looked away.

"You're misbehaving," Her breath rasped. Arnav yanked her neck back up, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"I haven't even started misbehaving Khushi Kumari Gupta." He murmured, his nose brushing against hers.

"Singh Raizada." She added, her fingers now clutching his kurta.

"Exactly, you're a Raizada. Your status, position, has all changed. Because you are Arnav Singh Raizada's wife. If not, you wouldn't be wearing these jewellery worth millions of rupees. And you're forgetting that Aarav is going to grow up as a Raizada, not a Gupta. His class is not going to be determined by jalebis and gotas." Arnav said.

Anger coiled in Khushi's stomach. She tugged on his collar, glad her nails scratched his neck, and brought him close, enough for his lips to barely brush against hers.

Enough for him to lose his grip on her dupatta and her neck.

Just when he was about to dive down for a kiss, she snuck out of his grip, grabbed the glass by the bed and threw the water on his face. Arnav staggered back in shock.

"Yet your class seems to be always determined by a certain Gupta holding a glass of water, or tea. And for your information, your 'class' is the only thing that I hated about you because it's an idiotic, arrogant, ignorant and heartless idea." Khushi snapped and slammed the glass on the table.

"And it gets frustrating because those compliments still suit you-" Arnav stood, soaking wet, as Khushi chose to speak to a wall instead of his face.

No one shows their back to Arnav Singh Raizada.

She never saw him approaching the bedside table.

"and your-" Khushi stiffened as Arnav emptied the water jug on her head. Her arms froze in mid air as the cold water seeped through her clothes. How dare he! Khushi turned and her wet hair lashed across his face. It stung, beautifully, and in a flash he pinned her against the wall, her wrists held in his hand.

"So I'm idiotic, arrogant, ignorant and heartless?" His voice was hoarse.

"You're saying that." Khushi countered, nibbling on her bottom lip. He brought her wrists down and held them behind her back in one hand. With the other, he freed her lip from her teeth.

"Don't act smart." His grip tightened against her wrist.

"Decide Mr. Raizada. I'm either brainless or smart. Not both, unlike you." Khushi jut her chin out of his way.

"You seem to know me pretty well." He stated.

"Of course." Khushi smiled, for her it was her best quality that she knew this man - this infuriating beloved husband of hers - inside out. Which is exactly why they were having this argument!

"I didn't know you still observed me-"

"-what's there to observe about-"

"-so intimately." He smiled.

"Oh." Khushi gulped, it was not the soft lopsided smile that sent flutters to her heart. Nay, it was the crooked, barely there smile he would have when he'd unclip her hair - or take her against the dresser - the one that sent flutters right down to her abdomen.

Arnav freed her wrist and placed his palms on the wall, right next to her head. Khushi tested her wrists, slightly sore from his grip. Oh, she was so cross. Her lips were pressed tight, cheeks reddened and challenge swam in her eyes.

"What other things have you observed? Apart from the fact that I wear a lock around my heart, or that I should be married to my office - which I can't because I happened to be married to you - or I'm an arrogant, ignorant prick-" The last words died as Khushi grabbed his face and captured his moving lips with her soft ones.

In a second his breath, control and heart knocked right off his body.

She threaded her finger through his hair, holding fistfuls of it. Arnav's hands immediately left the wall and wrapped around her frame, squeezing her hips as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Just as he grabbed her thigh, she bit his lower lip.

"Ow, what the-"

"Insufferable. You're insufferable as well." She murmured, pressing hot kisses on the bruised lip. Arnav grinned, his caresses turning frantic. Without tact or warning, he pressed his pelvis onto hers, preventing her from moving away. Khushi moaned, his arousal lighting a fire across her body.

He tore his lips away from hers and pulled on her dori, snapping it into two.

"You must detest me." He provoked.

"Not you, never you, but your damned wealth and haughtiness." She arched, grinding her hips against his when he slipped a hand under her dupatta and caressed her flat stomach.

"You must hate all the jewelry," He suggested, pulling on the clasp of her necklace.

"Absolutely." She agreed. With not much grace he threw the necklace and earrings on the floor. No matter the argument, he was her husband and it was his duty to get rid of anything that offended her. And he was never more thankful that she hated expensive jewelry and clothes.

"And sometimes you make me so angry," She muttered as he tore through her million strings.

"So angry..." Her hands flew to his kurta, blindly searching for the buttons. Damn him! How could she think if he sucked on her collarbone.

A loud rip echoed. Arnav startled, broke off the kiss and stared at his torn kurta.

"I couldn't find the buttons." Khushi confessed. Arnav had never been more glad to see an AR outfit in shreds.

"That's why I hate kurtas." He, working on the rest of the damned buttons.

"Don't blame the kurta, I'd blame the owner of this particular fashion house for not making an easy kurta." Khushi replied, her voice as calm as if they were chatting in the office - in public - about the latest designs. Not as if she was standing in her ruined choli that hung low on her breasts and a lehenga that only stayed because of the swell of her hips.

Arnav's kurta joined Khushi's jewelry - on the floor - and he grabbed her choli to tug it off, but there was still one damned string in place. How many strings did this blouse have?

"What's the owner's fault?" He murmured, attempting to untie the final string.

"I heard he is anything but-"

"-fuck-" Arnav yanked on the string.

"-intuitive." Khushi unhooked the choli, spun away from him and wrapped her dupatta around her before Arnav could see more of what he desperately wanted to. Her heart hammered in her ribs. Arnav, slowly, turned to her, her choli in his hand. His torso was deliciously naked and his pants were tied low on hips.

His arousal was hard to miss.

In three quick steps Arnav had her against the cupboard.

"I disagree." With one small tug of his fingers her lehenga pooled down her legs, leaving her in nothing but a barely there piece of fabric between her thighs and a sheer, red dupatta wrapped around her frame. His Adam's apple bobbed.

It hid nothing. 

With one hand holding the dupatta, Khushi reached for his churidar and pulled the string. It did not fall as graciously as her lehenga, rather it was oddly stuck around his muscled calf and ankles for all the numerous hooks holding it in place.

Arnav struggled to get the chiffon churidar off him.

"You stand corrected, again." Arnav tore off his pants and grabbed the end of her elbow, the impact threw them straight on the bed. Him on top of her. In a flash he held her wrists above her head, her dupatta free to his will. Finally, for all his love of sheer clothing, he absolutely despised it on Khushi. It gave him enough to pique his curiosity, but hid enough to keep him guessing.

"I am never wrong Khushi." His teeth grazed her lips.

Khushi replied by turning her face away from him. There was no way she was kissing this egoistic mouth right now! But she spread her thighs, allowing him to settle in between. Oh he was as ready as her.

Arnav chased her lips, fighting to be as much in contact as their hips were.

"Give up Miss Gupta." He persisted, kissing whatever he could reach. The corner of her lips, her jaw, neck.

"Never." She moaned, her legs trembling and wrapping around his hips. Arnav sucked hard on her neck, groaning as he drove into her. He quickly sat up on his knees and pulled her up to him. Without another word he wrenched the dupatta away.

Khushi pushed him flat on the bed and sat on him, leaning down for a hard kiss. His fingers roughly traced her, from thighs to ribs. Khushi stopped his wandering hands and held it above his head. Arnav raised an eyebrow, that was his move. She leaned forward, her breasts grazing his chest and he arched up to take a tight peak into his mouth.

A second later his hands were stuck, and he realised Khushi tied him up with her dupatta to the bed frame.

"What the fuck?" He cursed, surprised and aroused beyond coherence.

"Now you give up Mr. Raizada." Khushi hissed, nipping on his ear.

"Khushi, untie me." He groaned as Khushi bathed every bite with a soft lick.

"No, I've finally got you in one place and you're going to listen to me." She warned, tugging on the waistband of his briefs.

"Khushi I'm warning you." Khushi knew what a warning was, and this was anything but.

They had lost too much time arguing. And there was no way she'd give up an argument. Nor sex. So why waste a time when she can do both?

"Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada is always right." She scratched down his happy trail, eyes sparkling in challenge. Arnav was positively furious. If he did not have his hands on her in a minute he would combust and-

Oh!

Khushi removed the last strip of clothing and held him in her small hands.

"Khu-shi, this is my final warn-oh fuck me." Arnav collected his scattered thoughts as he felt her breath.

"First stop this argument and take back everything you said." Khushi whispered.

"N-I-" Arnav lost his train of thought as she sat on him, an image of perfect innocence and wildest fantasies.

"Enough!" With one final tug Arnav broke the bed frame, freed his wrists and flipped her on the bed. He hovered above her and touched her core.

"Enough games Miss. Gupta." He bit her neck and fondled her curves, cursing and sighing simultaneously.

"It's Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Rai-" Khushi choked as he filled her in one swift thrust. Why did she have such a long name? She scratched his broad shoulders, taking his mouth in hot, wet kisses. Their tongues met, thrusting as eagerly as their hips.

"You. Stubborn. Woman." He punctuated each word with a thrust. Khushi grabbed her shoulders, arching off the bed as he pistoned in and out of her in fury and passion. The cords of his neck stood out, tension rolled off his biceps as he grunted, whispering her name like a prayer.

Khushi wrapped her legs tight around his hips. Her lips, neck and breasts red and swollen from his kisses. His stubble deliciously chafed her sensitive skin.

"Coming," he breathed, giddy from her scratches and bites. Khushi muffled her sobs in his shoulder, begging him to go faster, harder. They came, cursing and moaning aloud. Hands gripping the other hard enough to never let go. Blood rushed through their body, heartbeats pounded in their ears.

Arnav slumped over Khushi. Their bodies were slick in sweat. A long moment later, she gently pushed his hair away from his forehead and he took her in a soft, tired kiss that said everything they wanted to hear.

Always?

Hamesha.

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An hour later, in the dead of night, Arnav and Khushi sat in a hot bath. They hissed from a few deep scratches and stubble burns. He wrapped his hands around her and they settled in an embrace.

"I didn't mean to say that," Khushi began, leaning further into him as he massaged the base of her neck. Arnav raised an eyebrow. What?

"AR rose and sustained because of your success. I am genuinely proud of you." She pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, "It is your baby. But Aarav, he is our baby Arnav."

Arnav stilled and sighed.

"I know Khush, but I don't want Aarav to ever feel like he doesn't have a roof on his head." He never wanted Aarav to feel the way he did when his uncle kicked him and his sister out of their house. Khushi turned to face him, seeing his vulnerability and the baggage of his past.

"With you by his side, he won't ever feel that. But... you can't buy belonging with money Arnav." Khushi placed her fingers on his lips before he could protest.

"No, listen to me Arnav. I also know how it is to lose family. But I also know what it is to gain one. Babuji, Amma, Jiji and Buaji could not afford every luxury in life for me, but it did not matter because after they made me their own." Khushi leaned on his chest, her eyes tearing up with fond memories.

"Yes, my best skill is making jalebis." Arnav tsked at her, even if it was the words he said a while back. Khushi, in his eyes, was worth much more.

"But jalebis are not just my favourite sweet. I love them because Babuji taught me how to make them and how to run a sweet shop. I knew I was his child the day he handed his secret recipes and shop in my hands. An outsider's hands." Khushi turned to look at him and cupped his face.

"Arnav, I want Aarav to grow up and be like you - not manage an empire but be capable of building one by himself. To be so capable that if I die-ouch!" Khushi shrieked as Arnav pinched her waist.

"Kya?!"

"Why do you have to speak about dying?" He growled.

"Arnav, it's just about me-"

"Exactly." Arnav pointed out.

"Par Arnav-"

"No Khush, when you're making sense and having a conversation then why do you have to speak about this bullshit of-" Khushi hugged him and stopped his tirade.

"Acha baba, don't be angry." Khushi looked up and stopped herself from laughing at his sullen face. With his wet hair askew, soap under his ears and that adorable, unintentional pout, he looked a decade younger than he was.

Khushi splashed some water and washed the soap off - not that it wiped off his grumpiness.

"I love you," She whispered. Arnav rolled his eyes, knowing it was her tactic to get him to smile. But he wouldn't, even if she was naked, warm, and right against his heart.

"-damn it." She added and fiddled with her eyebrows to get one to raise individually. Finally, he cracked a smile.

"Me too. And I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"-mean it? Don't worry, by now I know that Arnav Singh Raizada doesn't mean anything much of what he says to me apart from 'of course farak padta hai', 'I love you damn it', 'what the-' and 'hh-haa-ha-Happy Singh's garage'!" Khushi chuckled and screamed when Arnav tickled her, tackling her in the tub.

A few laughs later, Khushi settled back on his chest.

"Khush?" He dragged his fingers through her scalp.

"Hmm..." Her eyes were slowly drooping.

"Will I really be as good as Babuji?" He looked down at her. Khushi took his hand and pressed a solid kiss to his wrist.

"You will. As long as you know you have the right to love, fight, teach and learn from Aarav. Be his friend first, and guide him. Make him the man you can depend on." Arnav kissed the top of her head. Tomorrow he and Khushi would speak to Aarav. Perhaps it was time to let him know that just like him, they had lost their parents as well.

He glanced down at Khushi and cut back a laugh. She was out cold, snoring softly. He picked her hand and pressed a soft kiss on her knuckles

Seeing this as a golden opportunity that she would never remember, he whispered, "You're right Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada."

"I KNEW IT!" And that damned minx had the gall to open her eyes and flash a wink at him!

"Khush!" Arnav shot out of the tub and ran behind her as she grabbed all the towels and headed to the bedroom.

Oh he was going to get her! 

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A/N: This is my first 'smut' fic. Do let me know how you liked it! Thank you for your time/votes/comments. Stay safe.