With breakfast finished, they cleaned up together, seamlessly moving around the kitchen in a choreographed routine that had become second nature. As they washed the dishes, their hands brushed, and they exchanged covert glances, their desire for each other evident in their gazes.

Mithran's phone rang, breaking them out of their passionate eyelock.

Chaahat stiffened seeing the name on the caller ID.

"Hey Pierre, long time.." Mithran greeted the other man cheerfully.

"I should be the one saying that Mithran. It's been a long time. You missed three races consecutively." Pierre recalled and Mithran sighed.

It was true. With his father's surgery and the impromptu marriage that followed, he has...