My Brother’s Best Friend, My Secret Shame / Chapter 3: Family, Chaos, and Accidental Encounters
My Brother’s Best Friend, My Secret Shame

My Brother’s Best Friend, My Secret Shame

Author: Rohan Sharma


Chapter 3: Family, Chaos, and Accidental Encounters

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Meeting Kabir again after so long, I’d made a total fool of myself!

As an introvert, I couldn’t sleep all night, replaying everything over and over in my head. In the end, I sighed deeply, telling myself it was nothing. Anyway, I probably wouldn’t see Kabir again.

I’m from the south, but spent four years up north for college, then did my postgrad and worked there for two years. Coming back now—one reason was quitting my job to try my luck back home, another was my eldest cousin’s wedding.

The house was a riot of activity these days. My chacha ji’s family from the next city had arrived, and every room buzzed with chaos—the clatter of steel plates, the heady smell of jasmine garlands, a cousin shrieking over a broken bangle. In the kitchen, someone argued about whether to make rasam or pav bhaji, while the TV blared the latest film songs. Saree-clad aunties debated over flower arrangements, and little kids zipped through the rooms, hands sticky with mango juice.

My brother had his own place and rarely stayed at home. I’d been home a week and only seen him once! Today was a big family gathering, so he had to show up—no matter how late he was out last night. Dad was so irritated he told me to go fetch him, muttering about 'useless boys and their bad habits' as he handed me the spare scooter keys.

My brother’s flat wasn’t far, just a twenty-minute drive. I had his fingerprint, so I let myself in. The stench of old alcohol and stale cigarette smoke hit me as soon as I opened the door. Empty bottles littered the coffee table. Crumpled chips packets and half-eaten pizza slices lay around—classic bachelor pad disaster. I tiptoed past the mess, shaking my head.

Frowning, I headed for the master bedroom. The door was ajar, blackout curtains drawn tight. The room was pitch dark.

I hesitated at the threshold, the familiar scent of his cologne lingering in the air. Taking a breath, I yanked the curtains open, flooding the room with sunlight.

The person on the bed groaned and pulled the covers higher, hiding his face. Such a heavy sleeper!

I marched over, fed up. "Get up!" I said, and yanked the covers off in one go.

A lean, athletic male body came into view, all sharp lines and bare skin. A wave of embarrassment hit me—this was NOT how I imagined seeing Kabir again, especially with the sunlight catching on his bare shoulders.

My calm heart nearly exploded when I saw Kabir’s face!

Kabir slowly opened his eyes, blinking in the sudden light. His messy hair stuck up, but his dazed gaze cleared almost instantly. We stared at each other, frozen.

I very clearly saw Kabir’s morning reaction!

In a flash, my face turned beet red!

Kabir realised too, and yanked the covers up, hiding himself in a panic.

I turned to run, but in my haste, I banged my shin against the bed frame. The pain shot up my leg and I squatted down, clutching my knee, gasping for air.

Kabir heard the noise and sat up, covers still pulled to his chin. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse with sleep. The covers slipped, revealing his sculpted chest—broad shoulders, narrow waist, perfect muscle lines, and skin flushed red.

With that flawless face, the impact was even stronger than when he was lying down.

I squeezed my eyes shut and muttered under my breath, "Dharti, abhi ke abhi phat ja." Even the neighbours would gossip if they saw me now, I thought, as the moment hung between us—embarrassing, electric, and far too filmi for real life.

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