7.
Mornings in Chauhan Palace were always a riot. But when the Shekhawat brothers were around? Multiply that chaos by ten.
Aarav and Shaurya strolled down the grand staircase—both looking well-rested after what should've been a legendary "wedding night."
Veer, lounging dramatically on the couch with a cup of chai he hadn't taken a sip from in twenty minutes, raised a brow the second he spotted them.
He gave Aarav a once-over and smirked.
"Waah. Tu toh theek-thaak chal raha hai. Mujhe laga aaj wheel-chair mein aayega."
Then he turned to Shaurya with mock concern.
"Shaurya bhai, performance mein kuch kami reh gayi thi kya? Weak start?"
Aarav rolled his eyes so hard it looked like they'd get stuck.
"Nahi. Kal raat kisi buddhe ko neend aa gayi thi 10 baje se pehle."
Shaurya gave a small, very guilty cough.
Veer tried not to laugh—but failed miserably.
Just then, Suryaraj Singh Chauhan entered, royal presence radiating off him as usual. His eyes scanned both men, but lingered sharply on Aarav like he was checking for signs of... damage?
Shaurya immediately bowed and touched his feet out of respect.
Surya chuckled and said,
"Shaurya Shekhawat kisi ke saamne nahi jhukta... yaad rakhna yeh."
He patted his back like a general patting his best soldier.
Shaurya gave a soft smile.
Then Surya walked up to Aarav, eyes narrowed in mock-inspection.
"No marks." he declared.
Aarav blinked.
"HUH?!"
Shaurya choked on air. Aarav immediately elbowed him in the ribs.
Surya clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"Bilkul apne baap pe gaya hai Shaurya. Dono hi disappointing."
"PAPA!" Aarav exclaimed, scandalised.
"What? Mujhe laga nayi generation toh kaafi... efficient hoti hai."
He raised his brows innocently.
"STOPPP! PAPA, PLEASE!" Aarav looked like he wanted to melt into the marble floor.
Veer, meanwhile, was literally wheezing and had slid halfway off the sofa, laughing.
Shaurya looked absolutely traumatised—not just by his father-in-law's commentary, but also by the incomingyellingsof his very unimpressed husband.
Surya finally smirked, clearly enjoying the chaos.
"C'mon now kids. Let's go. Rajmata called the priest. She wants you both to be present soon."
As the trio walked toward the ceremonial hall, Veer called out between giggles:
"Shaurya bhai, aaj raat time se coffee pee lena. Warna kal bhi 'no marks' ki report aayegi!"
Shaurya glared.
Aarav cracked his knuckles.
And Veer?
He ran.
Aarav turned sharply on his heel and looked at Shaurya with narrowed eyes.
"Aap dekho bas."
He said it calmly—but the tone? Deadly. Then he stormed off.
Shaurya followed immediately, like a sad puppy following his mother after getting scolded.
Aarav picked up pace down the hallway, but before he could escape entirely, Shaurya grabbed his waist and pulled him close, gently but firmly. Aarav gasped as he felt Shaurya's chin settle softly on his shoulder, warm breath ghosting over his neck.
Then came the whisper, low and close:
"You love me."
Aarav's breath hitched.
"I love you. But I also need you, Shaurya."
Before Shaurya could react, Aarav spun, pushed him gently against a nearby pillar, their bodies now flush. His lips curved into a sly smirk.
"Don't make me wait na, Daddy."
Then he rose on his toes and bit his ear—just enough to make Shaurya's grip on his waist tighten.
That's when—
"Ahem. Uhmm. Uhmm."
Both men froze.
Standing a few feet away was Rajmata, unimpressed, with Pandit Ji trailing behind her holding a thali of flowers and incense.
She looked them both up and down and sighed like this was her morning routine now.
"Subah subah kya kya dekhna padta hai iss mahal mein..." she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. Then, turning to the priest:
"Pandit Ji, aaiye. Yeh dono toh... bas chaliye."
Aarav flushed—just slightly—but didn't miss a beat.
He turned to Shaurya, huffed, and said with a dramatic eye-roll:
"Hume ghuriye mat. Aapke wajah se hua hai. Chalo ab".
Still stunned but smirking now, Shaurya followed as Aarav dragged him forward by the wrist—his ears still burning, and maybe, just maybe, his heart a little fuller.
The morning sun cast its golden hues across Chauhan Palace, but inside the grand living room, the only light that mattered came from a hundred oil lamps flickering around the ceremonial setup.
Garlands of marigold and roses draped from carved pillars.
Pandit Ji sat cross-legged on a silk mat, scriptures open before him, a gentle hum in the background.
On one side sat Shaurya and Aarav, dressed in ivory and gold kurtas. Their shoulders were brushing—barely. Shaurya looked calm, collected. Aarav looked... slightly murderous. He hadn't forgotten the "sleep" incident.
Across from them sat the chaos brigade: Rajmata, regal and stern; Surya, sipping his tea with visible amusement; Veer, trying to stifle laughter behind a cushion; and Aarohi, already emotionally invested and two seconds from tearing up.
Pandit Ji looked up, voice gentle but commanding.
"Shaurya ji, Aarav ji... today marks the beginning of a journey not many are brave enough to walk. It is not just a union of two hearts, but of two souls walking side by side, regardless of storms."
Aarav's jaw clenched slightly. Shaurya looked sideways at him, a soft warmth in his eyes.
"You are both men," Pandit Ji continued, "and society may not always be kind. There will be opinions, resistance... even silence where support should've been. But I ask you both—never let go of each other's hand. Especially when it gets hard."
Aarohi sniffed. Veer offered her a tissue and whispered, "Don't cry, it's not a funeral."
Rajmata swatted the back of his head.
Pandit Ji turned to Shaurya specifically.
"Shaurya ji, I ask you to fulfill every wish Aarav places before you. Respect his heart. Listen to his voice—even in silence. And when he asks something of you, no matter how impossible... trust him."
Shaurya looked straight ahead but nodded, slowly. His voice was soft.
"I will. Humne aajtak bhagwan ke naam pe Aarav ko humari zindagi mein dekha hai. Aarav owns me. He always did".
Aarav smiled at his husband. Yeh aadmi pagal hai. He thought.
Aarav tilted his head, slightly smug.
"So if I tell you to repaint the bedroom and get rid of that awful black and make it pink—"
"NO-" Shaurya interjected.
Pandit Ji tied a red thread loosely around Shaurya and Aarav's wrists, connecting them together.
"This thread symbolizes not just your bond, but your commitment to be equals in this journey. Neither above nor below, but together."
For a moment, the room fell still. Even the mischief paused.
Aarav looked down at their joined hands, and then at Shaurya—who was already looking at him.
There was something quiet in Shaurya's gaze. A promise without words.
"I love you", Aarav mouthed looking at Shaurya.
Pandit Ji completed the final chant and leaned back.
"May this house become your temple of trust. And may love be your prayer."
The ritual was complete.
There was a moment of respectful silence.
Then—
"Okay but real talk," Veer said, leaning forward, "does this mean Aarav gets the remote for life?"
Shaurya didn't blink.
"He's had it since the day we met. I'm just officially surrendering now."
Rajmata gave a dramatic sigh.
"I told your grandfather this would happen. All these modern boys with poetry in their vows and zero sense of self-preservation."
Aarohi giggled. Aarav rolled his eyes. Shaurya gave a quiet laugh.
Then Pandit Ji stood up and gave them both a nod.
"The world may not always accept love in its truest form. But your home should. And today, this palace does."
Aarav's smugness faded a bit, and his voice softened as he turned to Shaurya.
"I wasn't scared of the world. Just... scared of not being enough for you."
Shaurya reached over and gently squeezed his wrist.
"You've always been more than enough. I'm just scared I'll mess it up."
Veer snorted, suddenly awkward. "Okay so can we please stop guys. Karan Johar se script liya tha kya?"
But both Shaurya and Aarav ignored him.
Veer rolled his eyes.
"Tum ignore hone ke liye paida hue the shayad", Aarohi added.
"Aarohi, kya karu haye, kuch kuch hota hai".
"Shut up. Idiot".