Written because I have raghveer brainrot and you can't stop me from indulging in it muahahahahaaaa
"Raghav, zara idhar aana toh."
Raghav looked up from his phone and raised his eyebrows at Ranveer, who was standing in front of the studio mirror with a furrow in his eyebrows and some sort of pen in his hand— wait no, that wasn't a pen, it was a kajal pencil.
"Kay zhala?" He asked. "I'm watching our video again; I need to fix my posture at that one point where we spin—"
"Arey, woh rehne de," Ranveer said, flapping his hand impatiently, still glaring at the kajal pencil like it had personally offended him. It was hilarious. "Help me with this."
Raghav bit down on the inside of his cheek to stifle his laugh and set his phone down. He sauntered over to the other boy and held out a hand, silently asking him to hand the pencil over. Ranveer obliged.
"My Ma used to apply kajal under my eyes until I turned thirteen," he offered in way of explanation, "and I wanna pick the habit up again. But, I have no idea what to do."
Raghav sniggered, and Ranveer smacked him upside the head, making him squawk indignantly. "Hey! Swatah cha swatah kar if you wanna keep hitting me!"
Ranveer gave him a look. "I don't understand Marathi that well, idiot."
The shorter boy rolled his eyes. "I said, do it yourself. Now shut up and stay still."
He pushed himself up onto his tip-toes, and Ranveer looked at the ceiling. Raghav raised the pencil and— promptly stumbled and dropped back down onto his heels. He huffed and rose up again, raising the other hand to grip Ranveer's shoulder, resolutely ignoring the ripple of muscles under his thin white kurta to move the pencil to Ranveer's eye.
Ranveer shifted. Raghav stumbled again.
He cursed his blasted height under his breath, and Ranveer snickered.
"Aww, am I too tall?" he asked in a faux apologetic voice. "It's okay to be short, you know—" he cut off with a wheeze, doubling over and clutching his stomach where Raghav had elbowed him. "Ouch, keep your elbows to yourself, man!"
"Keep your quips to yourself, man!" Raghav parroted back in a terrible imitation of Ranveer's deep voice, nose scrunched in annoyance, and Ranveer could not help but snort. "Says the tiny one—"
In one swift move, Raghav knocked his foot against the back of Ranveer's knee and pushed him back by the chest. Ranveer yelped as he fell on his ass, but the next second Raghav was following him down to the floor and throwing a leg over his thighs to straddle his lap, effectively pinning him in place. Ranveer sat still, hands on the mirror behind him to stop his back from slamming into it, and stared in shock as Raghav narrowed his eyes and brandished the kajal pencil in a threatening manner.
"Ata shanta bas, nahi toh I will purposely mess up the kajal," he growled, but blinked when Ranveer laughed suddenly. "What?"
"Nothing, just—" Ranveer laughed again, leaning back against the mirror— "the way you said kajal is... it's cute."
Raghav felt his cheeks heat up at being called cute, but he rolled his eyes. "That's how you say it in Marathi. Kajal."
Ranveer tilted his head, then slowly tried saying it. "Kaa-jal."
It was Raghav's turn to start giggling, tipping his head forward to hide his smile behind his fringe. "Oh Gods," he said, still laughing, "that- that's not how you say it."
Ranveer couldn't take his eyes off of the adorable boy in his lap— he froze. Wait.
Raghav was straddling his lap.
"How do you say it then?" he asked hurriedly, in an effort to take his mind off the fact that Raghav was in his lap, holy shit—
"Say it after me: ka-ja-la," Raghav said slowly, and Ranveer nodded.
"Ka-ja-da," he stumbled through the pronunciation, and Raghav giggled again oh Gods why is he so cute and why is he sitting in my lap—
"You Hindi speaking people," he said between soft tittering, "can't even pronounce ळ properly. It's honestly endearing."
Ranveer could feel himself melting despite his best efforts. Why, oh why was Raghav so cute? It was unfair; it was unhealthy for his heart, being subjected to this adorable display with Raghav sitting in his lap fucking hell whyyy—
"Ka-ja-la," Raghav repeated slowly, a smile curling up his lips. "Click your tongue to the floor of your mouth, and say la the way you say na in the word for arrow— बाण. काजळ."
Ranveer pulled himself together and tried again. "Kaa-ja-da— dammit."
Raghav snickered, teeth digging into his bottom lip, and Ranveer wanted to sink his own teeth into that soft, pillowy flesh—
"That-" the shorter boy choked out, lifting a hand to cover his mouth as if it could stifle the sound of his giggles. "You know what," he breathed between laughter, "just- just leave it. I'll teach you how to say kajal later. Atta mi tula he lavto, okay?"
Ranveer shrugged, nodded— and hurriedly bit down on his lip to stifle his groan when Raghav shifted forward in his lap, raising the pencil and pressing a hand to his cheek so he could use his thumb below to expose Ranveer's waterline.
Don't react, don't react, fuck, don't react—
He deliberately focused on the soft glide of the pencil on his skin, eyes looking up at the ceiling, instead of the fact that Raghav was sitting right on his hips, his thighs bracketing Ranveer's, his hand warm to the touch where it was laying across his cheek, gaze laser focused on his work—
He pulled away and shifted again, and Ranveer clenched his jaw at the spark of electricity that ran up his spine. His fingers curled where they were pressed into the floor of the studio, nails digging into the wood hard enough to hurt. The waterline of the other eye was pulled down, and Raghav got to work again, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he focused on the job at hand.
Ranveer did not move. He did not breathe.
What seemed like an eternity later, Raghav pulled back with a grin.
"There!" he exclaimed, gaze down as he slid the cap back onto the pencil. "Jhala! Now you can look in the mirro—"
He looked up and stopped mid sentence, eyes widening, and the way his pink lips parted oh-so-gently in surprise had Ranveer suppressing a frustrated groan. Gods fucking dammit Raghav can you not do that when you're literally in my fucking lap—
"I- oh-" Raghav stammered, a deep red flush blooming like fresh roses across his cheekbones, looking as if he had just now realised exactly where he was sitting. "I'm just- I'm just gonna—"
He tried to move away but Ranveer scrambled forward, hands involuntarily curling around his thighs to stop him from moving. "Nai, ruk ja—"
Raghav froze, and Ranveer suddenly comprehended where his hands were. Raghav's thighs were soft and supple, fingers so dangerously high up that he was almost brushing the cleft of his derrière. Ranveer breathed out slowly, raising his head to stare Raghav in the eyes.
"Tell me how I look," he breathed, and watched Raghav swallow thickly, the muscles of his neck shifting enticingly. He could barely recognise his own voice through the haze of sheer want that flooded his senses. He wanted to lean forward and attach his lips to that smooth skin, wanted to suck on the flesh and dig his teeth in till there were black and blue bruises all over, wanted to mark Raghav as his.
"Raghav," he murmured lowly, and revelled in the obvious shiver that ran through the shorter boy's body. "How do I look?"
The kajal pencil slipped out from between Raghav's fingers and clattered onto the wooden floor. Ranveer did not turn towards it; he did not give enough of a fuck about that silly stick, not when he had a lapful of Raghav with his thighs flexing under his hands, staring at him with half-lidded eyes.
"How do I look, Raghav?" he asked again.
Ranveer yelped as his back slammed into the mirror, but the sound was swallowed by Raghav's mouth. He gasped and kissed back, fingers tightening on those thighs, and Raghav slipped his tongue into Ranveer's mouth, running it over the back of his teeth and making him let out a soft, breathy sound.
Ranveer responded immediately, stroking his own tongue against Raghav's and shivering at the answering moan. The way Raghav kissed was heady, with his hands dragging up Ranveer's chest and shoulders to bury themselves into his hair, lips moving sensually and back arching so that Ranveer's hands slipped up and gripped his ass.
Raghav let out a wounded sound when Ranveer squeezed the soft, round flesh, and the kiss became dizzyingly hot— tongues roaming and lips slicking up with saliva, Raghav's hands tugging on long black hair and Ranveer's teeth sinking into a soft pink lip to nip at it.
They only pulled away because they ran out of breath.
Ranveer pressed his forehead to Raghav's and breathed deeply, eyes fluttering shut and heartbeat thundering in his ears.
"Fuck," he hissed, and Raghav huffed in agreement.
"Fuck," he repeated, lifting his head and staring at the boy in his lap with wide eyes. "That- fuck."
Raghav let out a wet giggle and nodded, leaning forward and arching his back so his ass pressed into Ranveer's palms, groaning when his fingers tightened reflexively. The move sent blood rushing south for Ranveer, and he gave Raghav a warning glare, but the boy simply smirked wickedly.
"Now you know how you look," he said slyly, eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction. Ranveer sighed and shook his head, a reluctant smile curling his lips.
"Demon," he said fondly, and then Raghav's lips were back on his.
@orgasming-caterpillar @musaafir-hun-yaaron @h0bg0blin-meat @shanti-ashant-hai
