#byomkesh

a/n: pt 3 of Bojhena Shey Bojhena

tw: abuse(verbal mostly), profanity, fluff, angst(sorry not sorry), suggestive content, 18+ mdni

pairings: older!byomkesh x younger!reader(both adults)

𝓐𝓪𝓳 𝓳𝓪𝓪𝓷𝓮 𝓴𝓲 𝔃𝓲𝓭𝓭 𝓷𝓪 𝓴𝓪𝓻𝓸

One week before Mahalaya, Fanibhushan's mother came, decked in goyna and saree, and a rosogolla r bhaar. You and Byomkesh were discussing pujo plans. "Ei ebar kintu oi thakur ta dekhtei hobe. Sunechi protima ta naki khub e sundor goreche", went on Byomkesh when he stopped seeing his house's trusted poricharok carrying heaps of organza-silk wrapped gifts. "Kar jonno go?" "Totto eshe, totto" and saying that he left. Byomkesh's sixth sense and ur limitless koutuhol lead you to enter your mother's room, and upon entering you saw Fanibhushan's mother, saying "Amar chele na bileti school theke degree kore eneche. Bohut naam daak or, janoi toh, kintu babar byabsa samlano okhan theke praye osombhob. Tao o bilet thekei samlachilo, kintu amar gaater byatha bereche shune o nijei chole elo okhan theke. Biye tiye hoye ni ekhono, "Aah, ma tumio na" he'd say, while his mom would continue, "Onekdin e bhabchi ekta bhalo qutum(in-laws) bari pelei biye ta diye debo" to which she'd look at your mom, flashing a knowing smile. Shed smile in unison too, and as Fanibhushan would look at you, you looked at Byomkeshda, seeing him already glancing at you, taking a deep breath and then sighing it out. You'd signal a "Bachao please byomda" look and obviously hed decipher that within a second, hatching a plan to help you get out of that uncomfortable situation at once.

"Jor bachaan bachale, Byomkesh da, tumi na thakle amar je ki hoto"-

"Ki aar hoto, oi haada ta topor pore eshe toke kone baniye niye chole jeto"

"Dhyaat, ki je bolo na uff, oi kyabla, ma er aanchol dhora chele ke ami moteo biye korchi na, aar or boyesh ta dekhecho? Babawww oi buro ta ke biye kori aar ki"

"Tahole amio toh buro, tai na" he muttered, fixing the sleeve of his panjabi absentmindedly.

"Kichu bolle, tumi Byomkesh da? Oh, tumi? Tumi toh bodho buro ekta. Tomar biye te ekta petni r songe biye koro, tomar pochonder bou paowa ta kothin-"

"Aar jodi boli, ami toke chai? Tokhon? Amar rong kora gaach kouto dhorbi tahole? Tor sitithe amar siduur porbi?" he spilled out, his voice cracking slightly, his eyes looking directly into yours for a moment, and u being unable to tear ur gaze from his light brown iris, stared back.

Your mind buzzed with uncertainty, filled with endless questions and doubts. You were on the cold steps of the thakurdalan, the place where most of ur childhood was spent, with him. And now, again, u stand on these steps, a full circle. The wind blew at your face, ur lips trembling, your mind numb at the answer.

"Tomar...bou? Mane ami..."

"Ami kalke Shimla jachi, case er jonno. Client ei bhromon er poisa chukiye diyeche, na gele khepe jabe. Ami kal sokal rouna debo. Phirbo Mahalaya te. Tar age kintu oi sample ta ke hai bole dish na, ma amar. Jai, ekhon aar toke byatibasto korbo na."

Saying that, he pinches your cheek, and sighs out loud, as if he going to Shimla physically pained him. "Jeyeo na, Byomkesh da, tumi chole gele amaye ke dekhbe, oi fanidadu r theke ke rokha korbe?" But you couldnt bring yourself to say anything other than a suppressed nod, almost tearing up at his love-struck confession.

You barged into your mom's room, and saw Fanibhushan and his mom still standing. His brows shuffled, to see ur eyes red from tears you held back.

"Ektu kotha bolte pari?" he announces, as both mothers look up at you in surprise. You roll ur eyes, and nodded. "Hai, nischoi, Fanibabu"

"Ektu baire gele bhalo hoto"

"Ja bolar ekhanei bolun." you say, ur tone indifferent.

"Na, na, tahole thak, he mutters, a bit disappointed.

"Tahole ashi" you replied, and frantically let out a sigh of relief as u locked urself in your room, unable to process whatever happened in the span of just a few hours.

Later that night, Byomkesh entered ur room, wearing the same white shawl he wore as he disguised as a sheep when you were kids. "Ei, Satya", he whispered through the grill of your window, "dorja ta khol."

"Jah baba, eta emni e toh bola jaye naki? Buro boyeshe bhimroti hoyeche naki tomar?" you replied, shaking your head, almost annoyed, but amused.

He enters your room, looking suspiciously behind, as if someone was following him.

"Ki khujcho?"

"Kake bol. Oi lok ta bodhhoy amaye follow korchilo!"

"Ke, tomar case r keu? Uff tai boli eto jhukki niyo na sobsomoye-"

He immediately pulled you close to him, his hand resting on your waist.

"Nijekei jodi na rokha korte pari, amar Satya r ke rokha korbe, hmm?"

"Ish ish, charo, keu dheke phelbe-" you chime in but you were cut short with his hand on your lips.

"Toke aador korbo, Satya?"

Your eyes soften at his request, pulling him closer with the collar of his saada panjabi.

His eyes flick to your lips then your eyes, caressing ur lower lip as he pulls you in for a kiss, claiming your mouth completely. It was far from something soft, it was primal, it was fueled by years of not being able to hold you, as his. His hands found the back of your neck, his touch possessive, pulling you in deeper, while your hands shuffled between the soft waves of his hair. A soft sigh leaves you as he bites ur tongue softly.

You pulled away, gasping for breath.

He looks at you, his hair all disheveled, his kurta messy, your cheeks flushed, breathing in disorganized spurts.

You tried to speak, but were at a loss of words,when he placed a jade ring in your suuch shutor baksho.

"Ei aangti ta rekhe jachi. Tui jodi sokaler prostaab e hai bolish, taholei porish. Nahole bhenge dish" and with that, he leaned in and kissed your temple, lingering there for a beat, contemplating before he pulled away, smiling like an idiot in love.

“You’re going to ruin me, and you don’t even know it.”, he said, and you couldn't help ur eyes tracing over his strong well built features as he turned away, closing the door as he left.

The next morning, you left to go visit the Ghats, to offer prayers. It was your Byomkeshda's first time going out of the city to solve a crime. You hoped he wouldn't leave, but reassured yourself that you'd convince your mother that whatever happens, your paka kotha(marriage dates) will be discussed with Byomkeshda and Byomkeshda only. You pleated the pretty pastel lilac colored saree that Byomkesh had gifted you on your birthday, and wore ur hair in a gajra. Your hands adorned a set of kashmiri kaanch er churi, and ur eyes were laden with kohl.

You come home, frantically out of breath to be in time before Byomkesh left for his train.

You entered your room to see Fanibhushan tampering with your suuch shutor baksho.

"Ki korchen, Fanibabu! Apni amar ghore keno?" you exclaim, after carefully placing the kaashar thala, containing prosaad.

"Amaye biye koro, doya kore amar cheler ma howo, ami tomake onek shonar haar kine debo, tumi sudhu ekta sujog dao"

"Ki bolchen Fanibabu! Ami apnar bou?? Apnar keno mone holo je ami apnar ma r aana prostaab e hai bolechi? Kokhonoi na, ami apnake bhalobashi na! Amar esob shona tona chai na."

"Hai tomar toh oi khyapa tar angti chai na? Hai? Amar modhye ki nei ja or ache? Na na, tumi bolo, ami biletpherot, amar eto poisa..."

"Bishash korun, ami chai na apnar poisa. Ami apnake bhalobashi na, aar poisa diyeo amar bhalobasha apni kinte parben na. Ami chai na..."

"Hai tomar toh ei phaltu imitation ring ta chai oi pagla tar kach theke" and with that he threw a greenish jade ring that byomkesh gifted you last night, away.

"Tomar moto beshha r songe prem koratai bhul hoyeche-" he replied, spitting on the ring. He came closer to you, smudging the pujor tip, saying "pujo koreii ba ki hobe, magi, magi e theke jaye" and then left throwing his shawl and the bracelet he wore, at your face.

"Ki reee Bhootu, kothaye tui" said Byomkesh, his voice reverberating through the hall, and his footsteps closing near, as he enters your room.

"Ekiii! Tui..tui eibhabe? Tor pujor teep ta ke ghete dilo? T..tor hathe ki Fani r bracelet aar..eta..aa..or shawl na? His face crimson with rage

"Please Byomkeshda, amar kotha ta shono ekbar, ami pujo dite giye dekhi je.."your fingers grasping at his saada punjabi.

"Ei angti ta ami toke ene diyechilam na kal rattire...Satya...tumi eta...ami ekdom bhabte...ami aschi...amar deri hoye jache..."

"Jeo na, please, Byomda, please amar kotha ta ektu sune jao"

"Ki sunbo, Satya? Tor kopaler makha tip, haathe shonar bracelet, Fanir shawl, amaye tui ki bojhate chaichish? Je tui dhyamna tar songe sush ni? Je oi pisaach ta tor mon ke dhongsho kore deye ni? TUI CHASH KI BOLTE, SATYA?? he shouts, voice cracking mid-sentence, his hand on your shoulders, shaking you violently.

"Pleasee, tomar jonno prosaad enechilam, byomkeshda- you say, your legs giving way, as u sprawl on the cold marble floor, holding onto the last pieces of the ring, the broken jade making your hands bleed.

But before you could finish that sentence, he left, closing the door behind him.

"Aaj jane ki zidd na karo", you murmur the song's tone, tears pooling at your eyes, your hands trembling, trying to grasp at the remnant air particles, for as he felt a vacuum formed where he once stood.

"Aaj jaane ki zidd na karo..."

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Just look at those expressions , those mischievous eyes that spoke volumes . OH !How I wish ,I would have seen the pain that you hid behind those eyes and that smile earlier. HOW I wish I could've saved you. How I wish I had written to you when you were alive. Sush we never knew each other but still I don't know why I always felt a pull towards you, maybe that's the kind of person you were, but I can never know now . How I wanted to meet you . I hope we meet one day . I wish all this is a big fat lie and that you are alive and hail and hearty . I wish I could hug you once. Others might forget you ,though u are hard to forget but remember I will never ever forget you , a piece of my heart will always belong to you My Supernova, My beloved .

I pray that you are with Maa and are comfortably lying in her lap and telling her about everything you've achieved . You achieved so much in such a short span of time that some people were jealous of you. It is a remarkable achievement to own a piece of land on Moon . To open a charity, you were perfectly fine , these assholes are spreading rumors about you. You were too good for that wretched industry . That bitch , who used you for money and did exactly what her Sugar Daddy said will suffer , she wouldn't have gotten a better life partner than you but she isn't worthy of you.

You deserved so much more . I wish you would have known that you are so loved and adored

This void will never be filled.

There ain't no body like you my Baby

And there won't be anyone like you

You are one of a kind .

I love you Sushant Singh Rajput

Stay happy wherever you are my Supernova , My Sush

Till we meet.

Much love

Tons of hugs and kisses for you

a/n: pt 4(i promise pt 5 is done gaizz)

tw: angst, angst and did I mention angst?

pairings: older!Byomkesh x younger!reader

Byomkesh couldn't believe his own eyes, and now his own, which were blurry with tears. He kept on biting his lip to hold back the scream, to shout out the voice of his loss, haunting the place in his heart. A place he had carefully built brick by brick for his dear Satya, which now came crumbling down like a house of cards.

He fisted his pocket to take out a red velvet box, which contained in it, his recent purchase. An angti(ring). For his heere(diamond). He had decided that after returning from his tawdonto(investigation) in Shimla, he'd surprise you with it. Khair.

He held the red velvet box in his hand, bringing it close to his mouth, biting his knuckles in trying to restrain him. In order to restrain him from killing Fanibhushan with his own bare hands. He had already boarded the train, as it chugged onto it's usual destination. But nothing was usual in Byomkesh's life. He tenderly placed a kiss on the box which contained his and your wedding band, his heart pounding in his chest. He carefully opened the other half of the jade band that he gifted you, also placing it in the same box. He brought it close to left of his chest, his thoughts racing faster than ever. He stared out into the distance, waiting. Waiting for the inevitable silence, waiting for you to impede his thoughts again, as he popped one of the sleeping pills, drifting off to sleep.

As he tried sleeping, his thoughts echoed, "Ami jobe tomar joggo hoye uthbo, amaye deke nio priyo. Amaye eibhabe jete dio na, please-e-e Satya-.."

He woke up in Shimla, his mind still burdened with thoughts unsaid, and actions which cant be undone. But he decided he'd indulge himself in the cases he solved. To try and be atleast 1% what Fani was. Be as rich and charismatic. To be worthy enough to be called yours. You left a permanent etch in his heart, that invisible string of fate, that he just couldn't tear away.

Days passed by, and so did Pujo. Something was missing, said ur brain, Someone was missing, prompted ur heart. Soon it was time for university applications. You chose to pursue forensic science, something you and Byomkesh had been planning since u reached 12th grade. Your mind would freqently flashback to the days when he'd pick you up from the college, pulling off the heavy bag of your shoulder, hugging you, his touch recharging you from a dull day. And as you'd return home, you would say"Ami jodi forensic niye aage jai tahole tomar case ei half help kore dite parbo, Byomkesh da...

"Haiiii, aar tarpor puro parishromik tao pocket kore nibi, hmm?"

"Na na, ki bolcho, keno ami-" you'd try to pipe in when he would stop you, saying-

"Acha, bhootu erom kokhono hoyeche je ami amar theke toke ektuo dee e ni?"

"Thank u byomda" youd say, smiling ear to ear, as the scar under his eyes twitched slightly as laughed.

All these previous thoughts started to flood ur already crumbling dam of a brain and you finally decided you'd go to Delhi to pursue a PhD.

Time passed by, and so did the memories. You found a place in Delhi, a house, but not a home like Byomkeshda's. Though faded, they still stung. Like tattoos, you carried your pain, unavailable to rub it off. You had climbed the social wrung, and now worked at an important post in the crime investigation branch, solving cases, like you saw your byomda once did as u had accompanied him in many of his cases. Somehow, you still carried a part of him in your heart, and so did he, the same box holding all of you that he had, which he hoarded inside a safe, as he couldnt bring himself to get rid of them. "Ota amar diyeo na deowa shesh smriti, ami ota phele dii kibhabe?" hed say, sighing, his eyes dazed, distracted.

"বাড়িয়ে দাও তোমার হাত

আমি আবার তোমার, আঙুল ধরতে চাই-"

Two years later,

On the day of panchami, you were invited to a gala by the Commissioner. He had invited other big shots too, and somehow you were invited too. You had never expected it, as you thought you were way too undeserving of it, downplaying ur wins like you always did.

You were sorta nervous, for it was one of the very important parties, more like business meetings of your career. You were supposed to make connections to last a lifetime. But something still ached. An untended to wound. But you've been covering it with a flimsy plaster all these years and decided today wouldn't be different.

You had worn a lal paar- saada saree with a red blouse which fitted you perfectly. A shonar haar adorned your neck. Your eyes were lined with kohl, and a pretty red bindi rested among your brows. A beautiful chaabir gocha rested against the pleats of the saree, your hands prettied with the red of the aalta. However, it missed just one thing-

You entered the party, and from what it looked, it seemed like a huge deal. Big men in black suits and mouthpiece guarded the entrance. The trees were decked in colorful tunilights, the entire place smelled like pujo, with the shiuli phool decor and gaada phool r mala that decorated the hall. People were pretending to discuss important stuff, making connections. People had brought in members of their family, too. Your chest panged. Oh how you wished your byomkesh da would be here. Watching you as you had finally fulfilled his dream, as well as yours. But neither of you dared to keep contact. You were ashamed to show up in front of him, for the thought of him thinking you had slept with Fanibhushan, made you dizzy. However, you hoped that maybe he'd be sensible enough to call you back.

And he thought Fani and you had gotten together, since his mashima, your mother, was way too interested in the juti(couple), and knowing her, she must've made you marry him, no matter what. Thus, continued the never-ending yo-yo yearning, but both ashamed to call each other back. However, his number remained in your speed dial always, but you had never once dialed it. Even when you greatly needed it. On the nights you were cried yourself to sleep. On the days you needed his advice, or just when you missed him, you refused to reach out to him. And, Byomkesh, well, he had kept the old, tattered polaroid of you,safely tucked in the back of his wallet. The torn ends were fixed with feeble attempts of cello-taping, but could the lowly tape fix what you had left? A void?

The gala was filled. The tables were occupied by the aunties who were gathered together, eating dim er devil, and tirelessly matchmaking. As soon as you entered, you saw someone you didnt expect seeing in this lifetime.

You had been living in Delhi for almost 3years now. You did not know what happened to the ur chelebelar bonedi bari. Heck you hardly ringed ur mother, after that incident with Fanibhushan. And there, before your eyes, stood Byomkesh Bakshi, your Byomkesh da. He was dressed in a white sutor kaaj kora panjabi, and a golden par dhuti, a golden pocket watch lay entagled between his fingers, and the same black rimmed glasses that he always wore, rested on his nosebridge, which he always kept adjusting.

The cold air from the vents sent a shiver down your spine. You looked away surprised, thinking your eyes were mistaken. But when you saw the Commissioner shaking hands with him, you realized that it was true.

The smell of the gaada phul hit your nostrils. The faint citrus-y, floral scent wafted, mixed with the khatta meetha smell of the Aam-ras fountain. The walls were decked with haath pakha, and kalighat paintings. A loudspeaker box was seated in the left of the mancha(stage) and a table with several trophies and a mic was placed adjacent to it. However, somehow you couldnt shift your gaze from him. As he turned around to talk to the aunties, you saw his v-back and toned shoulders. He turned around again, to carry one of those satin wrapped chairs for one of the aunties to sit. You couldnt help seeing how see-through his panjabi was. The sheer fabric clung to his chiseled, yet functional core, his abs visible, but the rest of your gaze was interrupted by the dhuti r kocha.

Fuck!

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