Fic: "There's Always Tomorrow," Salaam-e-Ishq, Ashu/Tehzeeb, R.
I was torn between writing Shiven/Gia pre-movie or Ashu/Tehzeeb post-movie, and the latter won out. I think because John Abraham is just so goddamn pretty that I can't help myself.
This ficlet also necessitated a really silly phone call to my mom, to the effect of, "Mom, what's an 'ooloo'?" It's a very, very common mild Hindi (and Bengali) insult, but I've never been exactly sure what it means. Especially in its longer form, "ooloo ke pattey." Mom offered to ask a Hindi speaking friend, but said she's pretty sure it's a type of small, black monkey. LOL! As for the "ke pattey" part, she takes this to mean "you're so dumb, you're even an ooloo's goat."
It will be funny to hear if she actually asks Auntie and gets an "official" answer.
And I strongly suspect that this story's title is courtesy of Clarice's song to Rudolph from the classic Christmas special. I have no idea what that says about my subconscious.
Title: "There's Always Tomorrow"
Author: monimala
Fandom: Bollywood/Salaam-e-Ishq
Rating/Classification: R, Ashu/Tehzeeb, post-movie ficbit, some sexual content.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no way, no how.
Summary: 650 words. It's in her fits of temper that he begins to realize that maybe she'll really be okay.
Even after she agrees to give him tomorrow, Tehzeeb wanders their flat like a ghost, the shadows still heavy in her eyes. "New memories," he reminds, wrapping an arm around her waist from behind and gently kissing the top of her head. "Completely new memories." She frowns, elbow poking him sharply in the ribs, and it's in her fits of temper that he begins to realize that maybe she'll really be okay. Like in the first time since the accident that he catches her fixing the one photo on the wall that never hangs straight. And the first time she huffs at the flickering tube light. And the first time she yells at him for leaving his clothes on the floor by the bed.
He's in the shower, the water running hot, and the doors bang open, her voice rising well over the steam. "Ashu, for God's sake, can't you pick up after yourself? Main koi nokrani hai kya?"
He stands under the spray for almost a full minute, the length of the rest of her tirade, something about him being "silly" and an "oolo" and "bilkul bacche jaise sometimes --but I love you anyway." And he realizes he's smiling. Really smiling.
When she jerks open the curtain to shake her fist at him, he catches it, pulls her, his fallen pants and all, into the bath with him. Her mouth gapes in surprise, any more lectures stalled, and he can't help it, he kisses her.
Tehzeeb still tastes the same. Like tamarind and mint and hope. Like the girl he married two years ago. But when he pulls away, looks down into her brown eyes and finds the challenge there, he knows he is falling in love with someone completely new. Her fingers wind in his wet hair, and she arches up on her toes and kisses him back with a fierce intensity. His pants fall to the porcelain floor, the sodden fabric forgotten, and then she pulls away long enough so that her kurta can follow it. No shyness anymore, no hiding behind the doors as she undresses. She stands before him, the water sluicing down across her lovely face and the slim body he has only seen in silhouette these past months, and lets him look his fill.
She is so beautiful, he could cry. Only he's shed too many tears for her already, and crying is the last thing on his mind right now. "Tehzeeb," he whispers, palms cradling her hips, urging her to remember *this* if not anything else. But then she guides him inside her and it's good and it's hot and yet it's not at all like he remembers either. This frantic, crazy, union, with his back hitting the tiles and their fingers entangling, and her soft, breathy moans echoing in his ears. She's never been this mad for him. He's never been this needy. They go once, and then they go again. Harder, wilder. Tehzeeb creates new memories, completely new memories, of how he gasps when she runs her nails along the ridge of his cock. Of how he whispers, "more," when she kisses her way down his chest. She stares up him, from this position of power on her knees, and warns him that if he leaves his pants on the floor one more time, he can kiss "more," goodbye.
Ashu laughs and tells her he loves her. He spins the taps, turns off the shower. He picks her up even while she's making more ridiculous blackmail demands, and deposits her in the center of the bed she's only recently been comfortable enough to share with him again. He goes for a towel, and then he shakes his hair at her, sprinkling her with water droplets. "Ashutosh!" she squeals in mock outrage. There are no longer shadows in her eyes; he notices when he comes over her. There is only light.
--end--
December 21, 2008
Glossary:
Main koi nokrani hai kya? - Am I a servant or something?
Bilkul bacche jaise - just like a kid
Ooloo -monkey
This ficlet also necessitated a really silly phone call to my mom, to the effect of, "Mom, what's an 'ooloo'?" It's a very, very common mild Hindi (and Bengali) insult, but I've never been exactly sure what it means. Especially in its longer form, "ooloo ke pattey." Mom offered to ask a Hindi speaking friend, but said she's pretty sure it's a type of small, black monkey. LOL! As for the "ke pattey" part, she takes this to mean "you're so dumb, you're even an ooloo's goat."
It will be funny to hear if she actually asks Auntie and gets an "official" answer.
And I strongly suspect that this story's title is courtesy of Clarice's song to Rudolph from the classic Christmas special. I have no idea what that says about my subconscious.
Title: "There's Always Tomorrow"
Author: monimala
Fandom: Bollywood/Salaam-e-Ishq
Rating/Classification: R, Ashu/Tehzeeb, post-movie ficbit, some sexual content.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no way, no how.
Summary: 650 words. It's in her fits of temper that he begins to realize that maybe she'll really be okay.
Even after she agrees to give him tomorrow, Tehzeeb wanders their flat like a ghost, the shadows still heavy in her eyes. "New memories," he reminds, wrapping an arm around her waist from behind and gently kissing the top of her head. "Completely new memories." She frowns, elbow poking him sharply in the ribs, and it's in her fits of temper that he begins to realize that maybe she'll really be okay. Like in the first time since the accident that he catches her fixing the one photo on the wall that never hangs straight. And the first time she huffs at the flickering tube light. And the first time she yells at him for leaving his clothes on the floor by the bed.
He's in the shower, the water running hot, and the doors bang open, her voice rising well over the steam. "Ashu, for God's sake, can't you pick up after yourself? Main koi nokrani hai kya?"
He stands under the spray for almost a full minute, the length of the rest of her tirade, something about him being "silly" and an "oolo" and "bilkul bacche jaise sometimes --but I love you anyway." And he realizes he's smiling. Really smiling.
When she jerks open the curtain to shake her fist at him, he catches it, pulls her, his fallen pants and all, into the bath with him. Her mouth gapes in surprise, any more lectures stalled, and he can't help it, he kisses her.
Tehzeeb still tastes the same. Like tamarind and mint and hope. Like the girl he married two years ago. But when he pulls away, looks down into her brown eyes and finds the challenge there, he knows he is falling in love with someone completely new. Her fingers wind in his wet hair, and she arches up on her toes and kisses him back with a fierce intensity. His pants fall to the porcelain floor, the sodden fabric forgotten, and then she pulls away long enough so that her kurta can follow it. No shyness anymore, no hiding behind the doors as she undresses. She stands before him, the water sluicing down across her lovely face and the slim body he has only seen in silhouette these past months, and lets him look his fill.
She is so beautiful, he could cry. Only he's shed too many tears for her already, and crying is the last thing on his mind right now. "Tehzeeb," he whispers, palms cradling her hips, urging her to remember *this* if not anything else. But then she guides him inside her and it's good and it's hot and yet it's not at all like he remembers either. This frantic, crazy, union, with his back hitting the tiles and their fingers entangling, and her soft, breathy moans echoing in his ears. She's never been this mad for him. He's never been this needy. They go once, and then they go again. Harder, wilder. Tehzeeb creates new memories, completely new memories, of how he gasps when she runs her nails along the ridge of his cock. Of how he whispers, "more," when she kisses her way down his chest. She stares up him, from this position of power on her knees, and warns him that if he leaves his pants on the floor one more time, he can kiss "more," goodbye.
Ashu laughs and tells her he loves her. He spins the taps, turns off the shower. He picks her up even while she's making more ridiculous blackmail demands, and deposits her in the center of the bed she's only recently been comfortable enough to share with him again. He goes for a towel, and then he shakes his hair at her, sprinkling her with water droplets. "Ashutosh!" she squeals in mock outrage. There are no longer shadows in her eyes; he notices when he comes over her. There is only light.
--end--
December 21, 2008
Glossary:
Main koi nokrani hai kya? - Am I a servant or something?
Bilkul bacche jaise - just like a kid
Ooloo -monkey