After college, Arthit drove directly to Zayn's apartment. The older man, engrossed in a project due in two weeks, was home since there were no upcoming wedding dates keeping him busy. As Zayn sat on the couch, typing away on his laptop, the doorbell rang.

Zayn set his laptop aside, rising to answer the door. As soon as he opened it, Arthit's bright smile greeted him.

"Good evening, Mr. Wedding Planner," Arthit teased with a playful grin.

"Good evening," Zayn replied, his lips curving into a soft smile. "Andar aao." He held the door open, stepping aside. (Come in.)

Arthit entered, closing the door behind him and slipping off his shoes before heading in. "Kya kar rahe the?" he asked, glancing at Zayn's work. "Bhaiya, tumhari deadline do hafte baad hai, toh abhi all-nighters kyun kar rahe ho?" Without waiting for an answer, he reached out and gently pinched Zayn's cheeks. "Dekho! Tumhe dark circles aa rahe hain!" he pouted dramatically. (What were you doing? Brother, your deadline is after two weeks, why are you pulling all-nighters now? See! You are starting to get dark circles!)

Zayn chuckled, pulling Arthit closer by the waist. "Tumhe kitni baar bola hai ke mujhe 'bhaiya' mat bulao..." (How many times have I told you to not call me 'brother') 

Arthit smirked, not missing a beat. "Main bulaunga! Kyunki mujhe achha lagta hai. Aur sab toh yahi jaante hain ki tum mere college ke senior ho. Seniors ko toh 'bhaiya' hi kehte hain, nahi?" (No, I will call you 'brother'! I like it. Also everyone knows that you are my senior from college. Aren't we supposed to call seniors as 'brother'?)

"Main bas tumhara senior hoon? Aur kuch nahi?" Zayn's gaze softened, his voice dropping a note. (I'm only a senior to you? And nothing more?)

Arthit gently took Zayn's hand, placing it over his chest. "Mere dil ho tum. Aur kuch?" His voice trembled with sincerity as he leaned forward, burying his face into Zayn's neck to breathe in the comfort of his presence. (You are my heart. Anything else?)

Zayn wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. "College se seedha aaye ho?" (Did you come straight from college?)

"Hmmm..." Arthit murmured, still tucked against him. "Abhi tum apna kaam karo, main fresh hoke aata hoon." Reluctantly pulling away, he gave Zayn one last tight squeeze. (Noe go do your work, I'll freshen up.)

"Lunch kiya hai? Main kuch bana doon?" Zayn asked, his concern evident. (Did you have lunch? Should I make you something?)

"Tum kyun itni chinta karte ho?" Arthit quipped, pinching his waist playfully. "Mujhe bohot kaam hai. Abhi chhodo!" With that, he disappeared into the washroom to freshen up. (Why do you worry so much? I have too much to do. Now let go!)

Zayn shook his head with a fond smile. "Main iska badla leke rahunga," he muttered, his voice laced with mock warning as he returned to his laptop to finish his work quickly. (I avenge this.)

After freshening up, Arthit went to the kitchen. He set up a thali with items he'd brought along, improvising with whatever he found in Zayn's kitchen. Spotting the moon amidst the cloudy sky, he realized he had to act fast. Picking up the tray, he called out, "Bhaiya! Bhaiya! Zara balcony aao na! Kuch kaam hai!" (Brother! Brother! Come to the balcony! I've some work for you!)

Zayn closed his laptop and walked over to the balcony, curiosity piqued. Seeing Arthit standing there in a kurta, he froze for a moment. "Khuda kasam, aaj toh kya lag rahe ho," he said, his eyes warm with admiration. (I swear to God, you look amazing today.)

Arthit blushed, looking away shyly. "Meri jhoothi tareef karna band karo, aur chup chap khade raho!" he scolded lightly while lighting two diyas. (Stop flattering me, and stand here without fussing.)

"Main kab jhooth bola?" Zayn grinned, but his expression turned curious. "Aur tum ye kar kya rahe ho?" (When did I lie? And what are you doing?)

"Aaj Karwa Chauth hai," Arthit admitted softly, his eyes glowing with emotion. "Toh maine tumhare liye vrat rakha hai. Bura na maano toh mera vrat khol doge?" His voice was gentle but firm, his gaze brimming with love. (Today is Karwa Chauth. So, I kept a fast for you. If you don't mind, would you please break my fast?)

Zayn stood stunned for a moment, overwhelmed by the gesture. "Tumne mere liye vrat rakha hai?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. (You've kept a fast for me?)

Arthit nodded, stepping closer. "Tumhe bohot hurt kar chuka hoon. Ab saari zindagi un galtiyon ko sudharne mein bitaani hai." (I've already hurt you too much. Now, I will spend my entire life repenting those mistakes.)

Zayn placed a finger on Arthit's lips, silencing him. "Chup... Kuch galat nahi kiya tumne." He cupped Arthit's face gently. "Ab batao, kya karna hoga mujhe tumhara vrat kholne ke liye?" (Quiet... You've done nothing wrong. Now tell me, what to do to break your fast?)

Arthit smiled, picking up the channi. He looked at the moon through it before shifting his gaze to Zayn. Completing the ritual, he threw the clay diya over his shoulder without looking, sprinkled rice grains on Zayn's head, and performed his aarti. "Paani pilao," he whispered, his voice barely audible. (Drink some water.)

Zayn picked up the glass of water, raising it to Arthit's lips. Arthit sipped before holding the glass to Zayn's lips. "Tumhe bhi peena hai," he insisted. (You also have to drink it.)

Zayn drank a small sip, his eyes never leaving Arthit's. "Toh tumne subah se kuch nahi khaya hai?" he asked, pulling him inside as rain began to fall. (So you haven't had anything since morning?)

"Not even a drop of water. Agar abhi nahi kholta toh kal raat se pehle kuch nahi kha sakta tha," Arthit admitted. (If I hadn't broken my fast now, I wouldn't have been able to eat anything till tomorrow night.)

Zayn sighed, his concern deepening. "Tum kyun aise karte ho? Tumhari tabiyat kharab ho jayegi. Chalo, ab baitho. Main dinner bana deta hoon. Kya khaoge?" (Why do you do like this? Your health will deteriorate. Come, sit. I will make us dinner. What do you want to have?)

"Jo tum khilaoge," Arthit replied, settling into a chair. "You know I'm not a picky eater, bhaiya." (Whatever you feed me)

Zayn smiled, ruffling Arthit's hair affectionately. "Just give me 20 minutes." With that, he headed to the kitchen.

After dinner, Arthit stood at the sink, diligently doing the dishes. He had insisted—it was only fair since Zayn had cooked for him. Zayn deserved to rest.

Zayn entered the kitchen quietly and wrapped his arms around Arthit from behind, pulling him into a gentle hug. "Aaj raat yahi ruk jao," he murmured. "Barish bohot tez ho rahi hai." (Stay here for tonight. It's raining too hard.)

Arthit sighed, rinsing the last dish. "Ghar pe dadi aayi hui hai... agar aaj nahi lauta, toh pata nahi phir kab mil paunga..." His voice was soft, tinged with sadness. (Grandma is visiting... If I don't return today, I don't know when l get the chance to meet you again.)

Zayn tightened his hold slightly. "But barish toh bohot tez hai... roads bhi paani se bhar chuki hain, aur traffic bhi jam hai. Tum ghar call karke bata do ke tum aaj yaha rukoge. Waise, ghar pe kya bol ke aaye ho?" (But it is raining too hard... Roads would have overflowed by now, and the traffic will be bad. You call home and tell them that you are staying the night. By the way, what did you tell your family before coming here?)

"Dost ke ghar assignment karne jaa raha hoon... yeh kehke aaya hoon." Arthit sighed again, setting the last plate to dry. "Subah se dadi gussa hai mujhpe—ladkiyon ki tarah vrat rakha, bhabhi ko college leke gaya, aur bhi bohot kuchh..." His tone grew quieter, sadness creeping in. (I said that I am going to a friend's house for assignment. Grandma is angry with me since morning - I kept the fast like a girl, took Bhabhi to college and much more...)

Zayn turned him around gently. "To ghar pe bol do, barish ke wajah se dost ke ghar pe ruk rehe ho. Agar woh dost ke baare mein puche, toh mere se baat karwa dena." (So tell that you are staying at your friend's place due to the rain. If they ask about the friend, let me talk to them.)

Arthit wiped his hands on a kitchen towel, attempting a smile. "Theek hai, lekin main sofa pe sounga. Manzoor?" (Okay, but I will sleep on the sofa. Agreed?)

Zayn shook his head, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Tum room mein sone wale ho. Sofa pe main sounga, mujhe thoda kaam bhi karna hai." (You are sleeping in the room. I already have some work, I'll take the sofa.)

Arthit crossed his arms, his tone firm. "Bhaiya, zidd karoge toh main ghar wapas chala jaunga." (Bhaiya, if you insist I'll go back home.)

Zayn chuckled softly, holding up his hands in surrender. "Accha theek hai. Sofa pe so jaana." (Okay fine. Sleep on the sofa.)

Arthit pulled out his phone to call home but froze, his expression turning to distress. "No, no, no... why? Aisa mere saath hi kyun hota hai!" His voice trembled. (What does this always happen to me!)

Zayn frowned, stepping closer. "Kya hua? Itne pareshan kyun ho?"(What happened? Why are you so distressed?)

"Ghar se missed call hai..." Arthit's voice wavered. "Dadi maar degi mujhe... S-she might have already got someone to track my phone." His hands trembled as panic set in. (I have missed calls from home.. Grandma is going to kill me..)

Zayn placed his hands on Arthit's shoulders, grounding him. "Jaan, kuch nahi hua hai. Tumhare gharwale bas pareshan hai. Unhe call karo aur batao tum abhi kidhar ho. Trust me, kuch nahi hoga." (Love, nothing has happened. Your family is just worried about you. Call them and tell them where you are. Trust me, nothing will happen.)

Arthit hesitated, then handed Zayn his phone. "T-tum bata do... Mujh mein itni himmat nahi hai. Mummy ko call kar dena, she'll handle everything... hopefully." (Y-you tell them.. I don't have the courage to do it. Call mummy, she'll handle everything... hopefully.)

Zayn nodded, squeezing Arthit's hand before dialing the number saved as "Mummy." He put the phone to his ear, speaking calmly even as his own nerves fluttered. "Kuch nahi hoga," he reassured Arthit as the phone rang. (It will be fine.)

Arthit's mother picked up, her voice sharp and worried. "Kyun, maharaj? Ab aapko call karne ki fursat mil rahi hai! Kitna beparwah hai tu! Pehle call nahi kar sakta tha? Kitni worried thi main tere liye!" (Why, My Lord? Now you are getting a break to call me! How careless are you! Why didn't you call me earlier? How worried was I for you!)

"Hello, aunty. Namaste," Zayn greeted warmly. "Main Arthit ka dost bol raha hoon, Zayn." (This is Arthit's friend Zayn speaking.)

Her tone softened immediately, laced with embarrassment. "Oh... I'm sorry, beta. Namaste."

Zayn's voice remained steady. "Aunty, hum dono assignment karne mein busy the, aur pata hi nahi chala ke kab barish shuru ho gayi. Roads abhi jam hain, toh Arthit aaj raat ko mere ghar pe ruk sakta hai? Main kal subah use khud drop kar dunga." (Aunty, we both were busy with the assignment and did not notice when the rain started. Roads are blocked now, so can Arthit stay the night at my house? I will drop him off myself in the morning.)

She sighed, her worry easing. "Theek hai, beta. Koi baat nahi. Usse bol dena ki kal college se seedha ghar aa jaye. Tum logon ne dinner kar liya na?" (It's ok, beta. No issues. Tell him to return home straight from college tomorrow. You guys have had dinner, right?)

"Ji, aunty. Dinner kar liya hai. Aur aap bilkul chinta mat kijiye. Arthit kal time se ghar pahunch jayega." Zayn glanced at Arthit, who was nervously biting his nails. (Yes, aunty. We had dinner. You don't have to worry at all. Arthit will return home tomorrow on time.)

"Thik hai. Tum mujhe apna number bhej sakte ho? Agar woh gadha time se wapas nahi aaya, toh tumse puchh lungi," she teased lightly. (Fine. Can you send me your number? If that idiot doesn't return on time, I'll call you?)

"Ji, aunty. Main abhi send kar dunga. Aap ab rest kijiye, raat ho chuki hai. Namaste." (Yes, aunty. I'll send it right away. You should rest now, it's already late. Namaste.)

"Good night, beta. Namaste," she replied, cutting the call.

Zayn handed the phone back to Arthit, who immediately began shaking him by the shoulders. "Bhaiya! Pagal ho chuke ho? Kya bhejna hai mummy ko?!" (Bhaiya! Have you gone crazy? What will you send Mummy?)

"She asked for my number, Arthit. Send kar dena," Zayn said casually. (Send her.)

"No way! I'll give her some random number," Arthit blurted, insecurity flaring up. "I can't let dadi know anything about you."

Zayn sighed, placing a calming hand on Arthit's shoulder. "Trust me, mera number de do. Agar unhone kabhi call kiya aur galat jagah lag gaya, toh woh kya sochenge? Tum kya jawab doge? Please, think about it." (Trust me, give my number. If she ever calls and it goes to a wrong person, what will she think of me? How will you answer her?)

Arthit's resolve crumbled as he buried his face in Zayn's chest. "I'm sorry, bhaiya... I'm such a coward. I'll give her your number... but dadi—she's dangerous, believe me."

"Don't worry about me," Zayn whispered, holding him close and stroking his back soothingly. "Mujhe kuch nahi hoga. Main tumhare saath hoon." (Nothing will happen to me. I'm with you.)

Arthit nodded against his chest, his arms tightening around Zayn, drawing strength from his unwavering support. When he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, his pain spilling out. "I'm sorry that I'm so disgusting... I hate how much control my family has over me! I hate myself for not being able to fight for our love, bhaiya."

Zayn gently cupped Arthit's face, his voice firm but soothing. "Shh... you are not disgusting, not at all. Stop saying sorry, jaan. You're doing great. Don't push yourself too hard; you don't have to do everything on your own. I'm here for you—I'll always be here." His fingers stroked Arthit's hair gently, trying to ease his turmoil.

Arthit looked up at him, his eyes brimming with tears. "Tum itne accepting kyun ho? Jab main khud ko seh nahi pata, tab mujhe dilasa dete ho... Why are you so good? How am I supposed to survive without you?" (Why are you so accepting? When it becomes too much for me to bear myself, you console me...)

Zayn smiled, his voice tinged with warmth. "Agar main tumhe accept nahi karunga, toh kaun karega? And I'm far from being good. As for your last question—you're not supposed to survive without me. I'm not leaving you again, and I won't let you leave me either." (Who else will accept you if not me?)

Arthit's voice was soft and tentative. "Bhaiya... kuch maang sakta hoon?" (Bhaiya... Can I ask for something?)

Zayn nodded, his smile widening. "Haan, bolo. Waise bhi aaj Karwa Chauth ke din, mujhe tumhe gift dena chahiye tha." (Yes, tell me. It's Karwa Chauth today, I should have got you a gift anyway.)

Arthit smiled faintly, intertwining their fingers. "Yeh pyaar hi mere liye bohot hai. But... if you're comfortable, please kiss me..." He closed his eyes tightly, bracing himself for any rejection or hesitation. (This love is enough for me.)

Zayn's heart skipped a beat, but without a moment's hesitation, he cupped Arthit's cheek with his free hand and leaned in, their lips meeting in a slow, tender kiss. Arthit responded just as softly, his overwhelming emotions spilling into the moment. After some time, they pulled apart.

"Thank you... Thank you, bhaiya, for giving me another chance," Arthit murmured, his voice heavy with gratitude.

Zayn rested his forehead against Arthit's. "Thank you for not giving up on us. Thank you for staying." He kissed Arthit's forehead, his emotions brimming.

Arthit smiled widely. "Ab sone chale? Subah mera college aur tumhara office, dono hai." (Should we retire to sleep now? I have college and you have office in the morning.)

"Haan, chalo," Zayn said, turning off the kitchen lights as they walked out together. (Yes, let's go.)

Arthit tidied up the sofa in the living room, preparing to sleep there. Zayn watched him, his concern evident. "Main abhi bhi keh raha hoon, tum bed pe so jao. Sofa tumhare liye uncomfortable rahega." (The offer is still valid, you should sleep on the bed. The sofa will be uncomfortable for you.)

"Tum apne bed pe so rahe ho, aur yeh final hai," Arthit replied with a playful glare. (You are sleeping in your bed and it's final.)

Zayn sighed, defeated. "Accha theek hai. Raat mein kuch chahiye ho, toh mujhe batana." (Okay. If you need anything else during the night, tell me.)

"Of course," Arthit said with a mischievous smile, surprising Zayn with a quick peck on his lips. "Ab toh has do. You look the best when you're smiling." (Smile now at least.)

Caught off guard, Zayn couldn't help but smile. "Good night."

"Good night," Arthit replied, settling onto the sofa.

"Lights off kar doon?" Zayn asked. (Should I turn off the lights?)

"No!" Arthit blurted out, then quickly corrected himself. "I-it's fine. Off kar do." (Turn them off.)

Zayn knelt in front of him, holding his hand. "Arthit... agar tumhe—" His words faltered as he noticed the scars on Arthit's wrist. His breath hitched as he lightly traced the marks with his fingers. "Yeh sab kya hai?" His voice trembled with concern. (Arthit... If you -)(What is all this?)

Arthit looked away, his shame palpable. "I'm sorry..." he whispered.

"Kyun kiya aisa? Aur yeh bracelets aur dhage kholo," Zayn said firmly. (Why did you do all of this? Open these bracelets and threads.)

"I can't... dadi jaan le lengi meri," Arthit stammered. (Dadi will take my life.)

"Arthit... I said, open them," Zayn insisted. "Main jaanta hoon tum itne religious nahi ho ke yeh sab pehno." (I know that you are not religious enough to wear all this stuff.)

Reluctantly, Arthit removed the bracelets and threads, laying them neatly on the table. Zayn's heart sank as he saw the scars—some fresh, some old, with words etched into the skin. He gently held Arthit's hands, his voice breaking. "Arthit... tumne promise kiya tha. Phir kyun? Kab se chal raha hai yeh sab?" (Arthit... You promised me. Then why? When did this start again?)

Arthit avoided his gaze, his voice soft. "Tumhe pehli baar khone ke baad se." (After losing you for the first time.)

Zayn cupped Arthit's face, tears threatening to spill. "Mujhe maaf kar do. Maine promise kiya tha ke kabhi tumhara saath nahi chhodunga, par maine tumhe akela chhod diya. Aaj ke baad kabhi nahi jaunga. Please, yeh sab band kar do." (Forgive me. I promised to never leave your side, but I left you alone. Please, stop this.)

"I deserve it, bhaiya... Isko mera prayaschit samajh lo," Arthit said, kissing Zayn's knuckles. (Consider this to be my penance.)

"You don't deserve pain. Tumhe sirf pyaar aur khushi milni chahiye," Zayn said firmly. "Promise karo ke ab aisa kuch nahi karoge." (You deserve only love and happiness. Promise me that you won't do this ever again.)

Arthit hesitated. "I can't promise. Tumse diya koi bhi wada nahi tod sakta main..." (I can't break any promises I have given you...)

Zayn sighed, gripping his hands tightly. "Main tumhari madad karunga, jaise pehle ki thi. Bas, yeh sab chhod do." (I'll help you, just like the old times. Please leave this habit.)

"Tumne khud ko blame kiya, toh main apni jaan le lunga," Arthit said, cupping Zayn's face. "Bhaiya, khud ko kabhi meri kisi situation ke liye blame mat karna. Wada karo." (If you blame yourself, I'll take my life. Bhaiya, promise me that you won't blame yourself for any situation of mine.)

Zayn nodded, holding out his hand. "Wada karo ke tum bhi mujhse kuch nahi chhupaoge." (Promise me that you will never hide anything from me.)

Arthit placed his hand on Zayn's. "Wada karta hoon. Agar tumhari salamati dao pe ho... Uske alawa sab kuch bataunga." (I promise. If your life is at stake.... Other than that, I'll tell you everything.)

"Manzoor hai," Zayn said, kissing Arthit's hand. "Ab so jao. Kal subah tumhara college bhi hai." (I concede. Now sleep. You have college in the morning.)

Arthit lay down, closing his eyes. "Good night... love you."

"Good night... love you too," Zayn replied, stroking Arthit's hair until he fell asleep. He placed a soft kiss on Arthit's forehead, covered him with a blanket, and quietly left for his room.

AUTHORS' NOTE:

I have come to realise my readers are as perverted as me, because so many of you want to read smut! Like come on! This is a family friendly story! 

I am bluffing... you'll get smut.. don't forget to vote and comment, so that I become happy and am able to write good smut! 

After dadi's torture, this cutie fluff was long overdue, so here's it!

Fuck it! This has been in my drafts for over a month now, believe me... I just had so much pressure due to internship and stuff, I couldn't bring myself to edit it as it is my job to beta the story too... Someone cannot correct her spellings even if her life depends on it ..

Merry Christmas!!!!

Enjoy, Adiraj and Priya!