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Hobie looked good in red and white.
Pavitr didn’t really know why he thought about that, but it was a thought that ran through him while they were trying on clothes for Hobie to wear. It was a thrift shop, one of the only types of shops Hobie actually supported without having to steal, and it was full of gems that Pavitr could clearly see Hobie wearing.
Fishnet croptops, bandos, ripped jeans, plain vests. Sometimes Hobie would get the occasional dress or popular brands just to shred them into new clothes. For sure, Pavitr didn’t really have any say to it— his fashion taste was as plain as anybody else who sought for comfort was, but Hobie liked to look special. Disruptive and outstanding. He’s the prettiest thing in the world and Pavitr loved that he got to have him.
It’s what he was thinking of when Hobie stripped his clothes off in front of him in the fitting stall, putting on a nice mesh shirt with a single line of fabric over the chest, ironically saying “hustler”. Pavitr sat across him, holding the rest of the clothes he tried out. Hobie’s top surgery scars still showed in its subtle manner under the fabric, and Pavitr watched him as he put on a skirt that cut down where the legs were, the fabric running between his thighs as he shifted.
“What do you think?” Hobie asked.
“Hot.” Pavitr said immediately.
Hobie rolled his eyes, “you got any new words aside from that? It’s been 15 minutes, I’m beginning to think you’re having a stroke, darling.”
Pavitr’s eyes went wide, “I have a ton of words, but I’m just being sincere! Look at you, you’re gorgeous, you’re brilliant, you’re amazing, show-stopping, spectacular—“
Hobie snickered, pushing Pavitr’s head back with his palm, “fine, I’ll stick with hot.”
Pavitr slid his hands on Hobie’s hips, pulling him close. Hobie squished Pavitr’s face with a single hand and tilted his head up.
“Can I kiss you?” Pavitr said, through squished cheeks. Hobie let go of his face and turned around.
“Right after I fit the last outfit,” he said. Pavitr blinked. Looked at the outfits lain on his lap, realizing he couldn’t exactly tell the difference when they were all black. But one in particular stood out, and Hobie was putting it on. A red croptop, followed by a long, white and gold skirt.
That looked really good. He didn’t know why the shape of these clothes looked familiar, but Pavitr put the worn clothes aside just to come up from behind Hobie and help him zip the skirt from behind. Then Hobie turned around, reaching out to hold Pavitr’s wrist: “what do you think?”
Pavitr pushed Hobie up against the wall, neck craned upwards, breath hot against Hobie’s lipstick stained mouth, “beautiful,” he breathed out.
“Looks like I’m getting this, then.” Hobie chuckled, voice low and just as breathy.
Then Pavitr kissed him.
The thought obviously came back every time Hobie decided to wear those clothes— not that he had any problem with it, but Pavitr would’ve hoped it was a thought that could leave him just as fast as it happened, but it didn’t. And now he didn’t know what to do with himself, because he wanted to see Hobie dressed in those colors more and they looked so familiar, yet where this thought came from, god knows why.
It was only until he was invited by his other aunt’s daughter’s wedding that he figured out why this actually happened.
He didn’t know his cousin very well, just that his family on that side was a lot bigger than what he was used to back in Kerala. He knew how the wedding was going to go— it hadn’t been his first time anyhow, it’d just been awhile. He took Hobie with him, and thanks to Maya-Auntie’s fussing Hobie wore a bright colored kurta, a simpler outfit he picked out as opposed to Pavitr’s more intricate sherwani, along with a plain mundu for contrast.
Hobie definitely wasn’t used to covering up this much, Pavitr could feel that from a mile away. They sat at the tables with relatives he barely managed to catch up with, the Madhuparkam ritual proceeding as his cousin’s groom appeared. They watched the man get his feet washed by her family, and Pavitr took a glance back at Hobie.
“Hope you’re not feeling too sweaty, we got a whole day to sit and bake in these!” Pavitr said, hand resting on Hobie’s thigh.
Hobie snickered, “must be my turn to tell you how hot you look, eh?”
Pavitr’s eyes widened, but he smiled pleasantly, squeezing Hobie’s thigh, “literally or attractively?”
“Can’t it be both, man? You’re sweatin’ too much for a weddin’ that ain’t even yours.”
And that’s when the thought hit him.
For a second, he’d frozen up, now suddenly so nervous about it. Hobie didn’t mind it, just thought he was doing his usual to flirt and flirt successfully with him. Hobie kissed his cheek and the groom gave a white saree to the in-laws. For the rest of the night, that was what plagued his mind while the couple started to walk around the fire and give each other their garlands.
Hobie much preferred silver compared to gold— they had matching earrings to prove it. Hobie had the moon dangling from his earlobes, Pavitr had suns. They both carried an extra stud piercing to hold up a little star stud, just a little touch that they both thought was amusing.
But in Pavitr’s eyes, Hobie could sport anything he wanted and still look gorgeous doing it. Whatever it could be, even like, a literal bag of trash Pavitr would still think he could do something about it. (Particularly, because Pavitr knew that most of the clothes in Hobie’s non-existent closet were actually taken from the trash or the thrift stores or handmade. He’s actually quite sure Hobie has tried it out.)
So he wondered what it would be like for Hobie to wear the gold instead— Pavitr liked gold on himself too, though. He snagged a pair of earrings from Maya-Auntie’s in the middle of the night and asked Hobie to try it, just to feed his curiosity.
“For me?” Hobie said, raising a brow as Pavitr showed it to him.
“Juuust for one night, because I’m sure she’ll send me to Naraka if I don’t bring these back where I placed them.”
“Why’d you do it, darling?” Hobie asked.
So I’d know what you’d look like on our wedding, Pavitr thought, barely sustaining his mind’s volume on it.
“Nothing,” Pavitr lied, “maybe you should just try gold stuff sometimes.”
“You think so?” Hobie asked, taking off his earrings to try them on. They hung and shone under the warm lights of Pavitr’s room, shining bright.
There wasn’t really much of a difference, Pavitr contemplated stealing more jewelry to fit that in, but he knows he was gonna get his ass handed to him if Maya-Auntie found out about his jewelry stealing. He took a good long look at Hobie, kept it in the little library in his head. Wondered how the rest was going to look. Hobie looked in the mirror and hummed to himself.
“Not bad, yeah?” Hobie asked. “Probably just needs more to ‘em, I suppose.”
“You have no idea how much jewelry I wanna steal for you to wear now.” Pavitr said.
“You think I’d look good as a rich snob, Pavi?” Hobie snorted.
“Wha— no!” Pavitr sputtered— right, gold wasn’t Hobie’s thing for a lot of reasons— “I just think you’d look so good! Purification! Good health— prosperity—“
Hobie snickered, taking the earrings off, “you’re such a romantic, aren’t you, darling?”
Pavitr stood up and straightened his back. His face was heating up and Hobie could definitely tell. “Hey, I pride myself in making this the most romantic life you could ever have!”
“Hah,” Hobie said, handing the earrings back to him, “good. It’s definitely working.”
“I hope it is, it’s been seven years!”
Seven years since they were sixteen.
Seven years since they fell in love.
They were 23 now.
Hobie put his hand over Pavitr’s and kissed his knuckles.
Pavitr’s heart just started running out his chest and he was 100% sure he was going to explode.
Thanks to working, Pavitr usually didn’t have to get up too early in the mornings anymore, but he loved the mornings anyway. Hobie hated them.
Just as soon as he was about to pull himself out, Hobie’s arms and legs snaked over his body and yanked him back in.
“Oi,” Hobie said, eyes still groggy enough to barely open, “you’re ruinin’ the morning for me just by gettin’ up.”
“Honey, I have work.” Pavitr said, reaching to stroke his face. Hobie’s face scrunched.
“Lyin’, I know it’s gonna be in four fuckin’ hours, you liar.” Hobie said, burying his face in Pavitr’s shoulder.
“You should probably get up too, hot stuff.” Pavitr said, wiggling out of Hobie’s grip. Hobie’s grip loosened. He flopped back on his back, and Pavitr leaned over.
“Kiss me.” Hobie said, cradling Pavitr’s face.
“But—“
“Don’t care about no mornin’ breath.” Hobie said, so Pavitr kissed him. Hobie regretted it immediately, knocking his head away from him as Pavitr laughed.
The morning sun hit Hobie’s face and painted his skin gold. Pavitr kissed the sunlight away, annoying Hobie as he started to flail from how his sensitive skin was reacting to the contact.
“I’ll cook you breakfaaast,” Pavitr promised, kissing his forehead.
“What’s it?” Hobie asked.
“Idiyappam, your favorite,” Pavitr said.
“D’you really have to get to work today?” Hobie said. “Can’t believe you’re slavin’ away to capitalism’s nasty grip.”
Pavitr rolled his eyes. “Maya-Auntie’s got a slipper that I’d rather miss.”
“You’re a grown ass man.”
“I’m Indian, Hobie.”
Hobie finally opened his eyes. “We’re definitely movin’ out soon.”
“How soon is ‘soon’?”
“As soon as fuckin’ possible. Meanin’ we don’t need your poor auntie hearin’ us shag no more. We get to sleep in any time we want,” Hobie said, fingers reaching to hold onto Pavitr’s hair, “have our own gold, silver… cookin’ breakfast in the mornin’s...”
“We’ll save up.” Pavitr said, holding onto Hobie’s wrist and pressing his thumb along his wrist as he squeezed his hand. “I always thought we’d have this talk at 17.”
“We did. You wanted to run away with me, then felt bad at just the thought.” Hobie said.
“Yeah, and it’s different now,” Pavitr said, reaching to caress Hobie’s face, “we’ll live that dream soon.”
Living together. Getting married. Probably having kids. Growing old together. They were a quarter way through, but…
Pavitr wanted to know what their wedding day was going to be like.
He wondered how the mehndi was gonna be seen, considering how dark Hobie’s skin was. Both their skins were dark, but the richer the depth, the more their marriage was going to succeed. Their light palms could show it easier, and that’s what Pavitr prioritized the most.
He was knelt down while Hobie sat on the couch, having finished drying Hobie’s painted nails. He pictured the patterns that would trail over his skin, soft geometry and gorgeous patterns, how his beautiful hands were going to be decorated to be even prettier—
Then he pressed his lips against his fingertips. Kissed the tough, guitar-ridden callouses. He kissed his soft palm, kissed every line and crease in his fingers, then turned his hand to kiss his knuckles. From the first, all the way to the third, right up to the wrist where it finally caught Hobie’s attention.
“Love…” Hobie trailed off, and Pavitr kept his eyes on him as he kissed all over his wrist. Hobie’s lips parted.
“You love my hands that much?” Hobie said instead, and Pavitr only answered with his face pressed against Hobie’s palm to nuzzle.
Hobie blinked. Cupped Pavitr’s face.
“What are you thinking about, darling?” He asked.
“A lot of things,” Pavitr said, looking at him through his lashes, “just hoping you could indulge me.”
Hobie hummed, letting his other hand hold the other side of Pavitr’s face, cradling it now.
“Of course.”
Pavitr paused. Swallowed at the thought. He had to ask it.
“Would you be my bride, if I asked?”
Hobie’s eyes widened at the question, he tilted his head, and, with a curious look in his face he scanned all the way through Pavitr’s face to check his certainties— there was no way this was going to be a joke, not like that. Not with Pavitr.
Pavitr reached up to hold both of Hobie’s hands, squeezing it with his thumbs over his knuckles, and he stared back at him, soft eyes shining under the light, breath getting heavy as Hobie leaned in. Hobie pushed his hair out of his face.
“Askin’ like I ain’t already yours, huh?” Hobie said, speaking into Pavitr’s lips before he pushed his head forward, sharing a kiss.
“There’s a difference,” Pavitr whispered, holding Hobie by the back of his neck for some more. “We’d let the world know you’re mine.”
“That’d be,” Hobie muttered, his deep voice ringing down Pavitr’s body, “wonderful.”
Pavitr pictured it. Seeing Hobie walk to him, hands and feet decorated with mehndi, dressed in gold, red and white. The saree would wrap around his hips and over his shoulder, the gold and diamond jewelry would be heavy but nothing that Hobie would worry about. It would be early in the morning, he knew Hobie hated the morning but he knows he’d knock out right after.
He’d imagine that Hobie’d also enjoy wearing a saree, that he’d be with curious steps taken around during the Kanyadaanam. Pavitr’d be the one to gift Hobie the saree and platter.
Hobie didn’t have family to be with, but in the Sparsham he’ll be welcomed all the same with Pavitr’s family. They’d have a long, wild reception, where their friends and family would be, and it will be good.
Maya-Auntie would give them diyas as they came into their new home, and afterwards they’ll look at each other’s rings excitedly before Pavitr would lift Hobie off his feet and take him to bed.
The idea stuck to him for as long as it could— for now they’d wait on it, try to get by with as much time as they have because they’d always have time for this.
It’ll be their wedding day one day.
And it will be beautiful.