You Belong With Me

Rahul nodded, frustration etched across his face. He hated being sidelined, especially during practice. But when he tried to stand, the pain shot up his leg, unbearable and sharp. He stumbled, almost falling again if not for Sourav's quick reflexes.

Sourav, who had been hovering nearby, stepped in immediately. His strong arms wrapped around Rahul, supporting him before he could hit the ground. "Easy there," Sourav said softly, his voice a mix of concern and something deeper, something only Viru seemed to notice.

Viru, watching from a distance knew the depth of Sourav's feelings for Rahul. The way Sourav's eyes lingered a moment too long, the small but significant gestures of care—it all painted a clear picture. And now, as Sourav held Rahul tightly, Viru's happiness was on another level.

"Let me help you to your room," Sourav said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Rahul, embarrassed by the attention, tried to pull away. "I can walk, don't bother," he insisted, his cheeks flushing red.

But Sourav wasn't having any of it. "You need care. Just shut up," he said firmly. Before Rahul could protest further, Sourav scooped him up in his arms, holding him securely against his chest. Rahul's hands clutched the fabric of Sourav's shirt.

The teammates watched, a mix of surprise and admiration in their eyes. They knew Sourav was a caring captain, always looking out for his players. To them, this was just another example of his dedication. But Viru knew better. He saw the depth of emotion in Sourav's eyes, the way his grip tightened protectively around Rahul.

As Sourav carried Rahul across the field, the tension in the air was thick, almost palpable. Each step he took was careful yet determined, his focus entirely on the man in his arms. Rahul, despite his initial embarrassment, found himself leaning into Sourav's chest, the steady beat of his heart oddly comforting.

When they reached the stairs leading to the Rahul's rooms, Sourav didn't hesitate. He adjusted his grip, ensuring Rahul was secure, and began the ascent. Each step was deliberate, Sourav's muscles straining but steady. The effort of carrying another person up the stairs didn't faze him; his only concern was Rahul's well-being.

Rahul could feel the strength in Sourav's arms, the protective aura that surrounded him. It was both embarrassing and reassuring. He opened his mouth to protest again, but one look at Sourav's determined face made him swallow his words. There was a quiet intensity in Sourav's eyes, a silent promise of care and protection.

Finally, they reached Rahul's room. Sourav gently set him down on the bed, careful not to jostle his injured ankle. "You need to rest," Sourav said, his voice softening as he brushed a stray lock of hair from Rahul's forehead.

Rahul looked up at him, a mix of gratitude and something else in his eyes. "Thanks," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sourav gave a small nod, his hand lingering on Rahul's shoulder for a moment longer than necessary. "Anytime," he replied, the unspoken emotions hanging in the air between them.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky turned a soft shade of purple, the aroma of dinner wafted through the ground floor of the hotel, signaling it was time to eat. Team India had gathered downstairs in the grand dining room, the chatter and laughter of teammates filling the air. The long table was set, laden with a feast that could satisfy even the heartiest of appetites.

One by one, the players took their seats, but there was one notable absence. Sourav, as always, was late. The room buzzed with energy. Sourav finally appeared at the top of the staircase. With his tousled hair and slightly ruffled clothes, he made his way down with a casual swagger.

Viru, standing near the buffet, spotted Sourav and flashed a mischievous grin. He quickly filled a plate, heaping it with all the best dishes, far more than one person could possibly eat. As Sourav approached, Viru stepped forward and presented the plate to him.

"Here you go," Viru said, his voice light with amusement.

Sourav looked at the overflowing plate, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Viru leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Take this to Rahul's room," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Have dinner with him privately."

A deep blush spread across Sourav's cheeks, his lips twitching as he fought to suppress a smile. The teasing remark sent a flutter through his chest, and he felt a mix of embarrassment and excitement. He didn't respond with words, but his eyes betrayed his emotions. Taking a deep breath, he accepted the plate and turned to leave.

Just as he reached the door, Viru called after him, "And don't forget to feed him with your hands!"

Sourav stopped in his tracks, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. He turned his head and mouthed a silent "fuck you" at Viru, who simply chuckled in response, clearly enjoying his friend's discomfort.

As Sourav climbed the staircase, the laughter from downstairs faded, replaced by the quiet anticipation of the moment ahead. He made his way through the dimly lit corridor, the shadows playing tricks on the walls. With each step, his heart beat a little faster.

Reaching Rahul's door, he paused, balancing the plate carefully as he knocked softly. The door creaked open, Rahul was sitting on his bed, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Sourav standing there with a plate piled high with food.

"I thought Viru was bringing dinner," Rahul said, confusion written all over his face.

Sourav could see what was happening. Viru had told Rahul he would bring him dinner, but instead, he had sent Sourav. This boy was getting too clever for his own good. Sourav couldn't help but smile to himself; it wasn't like he didn't enjoy these little tricks. He entered the room and sat down on the bed, carefully placing the food between them. The aroma filled the room, making Rahul's stomach grumble in anticipation.

"Yeah, he was supposed to," Sourav replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "But I wanted to see you, make sure you're doing okay, so I decided to come instead."

Rahul looked up, his expression softening. "I'm fine," he said, but his voice was quieter, almost as if he was trying to convince himself as much as Sourav.

Sourav reached over and gently squeezed Rahul's shoulder. "I know you are," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. "But it doesn't hurt to have a friend check in, right? Plus, I brought your favorite. We can eat together and catch up."

Rahul's eyes brightened a bit at the mention of his favorite food. "Thanks, Sourav. I appreciate it."

As they ate, a comfortable silence settled between them. Rahul wasn't aware of the turmoil in Sourav's heart, nor did he realize the depth of his own feelings. He just knew that he felt safe and comfortable with Sourav, and that was enough for him.

Sourav couldn't help but steal glances at Rahul when he thought Rahul wasn't looking. He admired the way Rahul's eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about, the way he smiled shyly when he was feeling embarrassed, and the way his laughter filled the room, chasing away any hint of sadness. Sourav knew he was falling for Rahul, hard and fast, but he also knew he couldn't act on those feelings. Being gay wasn't something he could accept about himself. It wasn't normal, and he didn't want to risk losing his friendship with Rahul by confessing something that could change everything between them.