Nikhil felt like he was on cloud nine the rest of the day.
DH felt unusually bright and optimistic. The formalin didn't even smell that bad today. The professors sounded less annoying. The cadaver looked almost supportive of his life choices. He was riding a high of pure, unadulterated glee. A deep sense of accomplishment settled warmly in his chest, like he'd finally won something monumental.
Because he had.
He had made the system bend.
He had forced the unflappable senior to surrender his name like a hostage negotiation gone wrong.
This wasn't just breaking a rule.
This was rewriting it.
"Aarav," he muttered under his breath throughout the day like a private, victorious chant. "Aarav."
God, it sounded nice.
Sharp, but soft at the edges. Pretty. Slightly dramatic. Elegant in a way that suited the person attached to it.
Like him.
Nikhil caught himself smiling for no reason while washing his hands after DH.
Wait.
What did it even mean?
The thought immediately took root in his brain. Curiosity itched at him until he finally pulled out his phone while walking back from the DH and searched it up.
Peaceful.
Or, in some interpretations, a musical note.
Nikhil stared at the screen for a second before letting out a snort.
"Peaceful my ass," he muttered under his breath.
Because from what he knew about Aarav, the senior was anything but peaceful. That man had the temperament of an angry cat somebody accidentally splashed water on. A deeply judgemental, academically weaponized cat.
Then again… musical note fit weirdly well.
There was something oddly rhythmic about him. Precise. Controlled. Sharp in a way that drew attention without trying.
Nikhil blinked.
Why was he sounding like a Victorian poet in his own head?
Disgusting.
Soon, night came.
And as Nikhil lay sprawled across his bed, staring at the ceiling fan rotating above him in slow circles, he realized the initial euphoria had started fading.
And with it, the familiar restlessness crept back in.
The goal had been achieved.
The mystery solved.
So… what now?
The game of 'get the senior to bend and surrender his name' was over. And now Nikhil was left holding the trophy, wondering what exactly came after victory.
The satisfaction wasn't hollow—far from it. If anything, it had been one of the most rewarding moments of his academic career. Much more rewarding than scoring any number of marks.
But the high had simply run its course.
And now his brain, traitorous thing that it was, had already moved on to wanting more.
He rolled onto his side with a sigh.
Because the thing was—Aarav was a gift that never stopped giving.
There were definitely reactions Nikhil hadn't seen yet. Entire emotional ranges still unexplored. Untapped material. Untouched ecosystems.
And Nikhil, naturally, wanted all of them.
His thoughts wandered, as they usually did during these late-night ceiling contemplation sessions.
An image flashed across his mind.
Then another.
Aarav glaring at him near the hostel entrance.
Aarav red-faced and furious in the rain-grey morning.
Aarav looking horrified beyond human comprehension after the daddy incident.
Aarav in casual clothes for the first time—that soft oversized t-shirt slipping slightly near the collarbone, knee-length shorts, sleepy eyes, messy hair that somehow still looked annoyingly pretty. Like a tired college student in an indie coming-of-age film who judged everyone silently.
Nikhil frowned into his pillow.
Because why did he remember that in detail?
He found himself wondering—
What would Aarav look like genuinely happy?
Not smug.
Not sarcastic.
Not victorious after academically destroying someone.
Actually happy.
What would his laugh sound like if it wasn't dry and judgemental? What would he look like embarrassed in a way that wasn't caused by Nikhil psychologically tormenting him in public? Would his ears still turn pink? Would he smile properly or hide it? Would his eyes crinkle?
And, more importantly—
Why did the thought of someone else making Aarav look like that feel so violently unpleasant?
His face twisted slightly.
No.
Actually, unpleasant was an understatement.
The mere concept irritated him on a spiritual level.
The idea of someone else getting those reactions from Aarav felt wrong. Horrible. Blasphemous, even.
Meanwhile, the thought of himself doing it?
Oh.
That filled him with something warm and electric.
His mind replayed the mess incident again.
The desperate look in Aarav's eyes.
The way he'd grabbed Nikhil's wrist so tightly.
The way his voice had lowered into that rushed, frustrated whisper while saying his own name like it physically pained him.
"It's Aarav."
God.
Nikhil buried half his face into the pillow with a muffled groan.
This was bad.
He remembered the pink creeping up the tips of Aarav's ears. The sharp brown eyes gone wide with panic. The catty, arrogant composure cracking just enough for Nikhil to see underneath it.
And alright.
Fine.
He would admit it.
Aarav was ridiculously attractive.
Like, offensively so.
Dusky skin. Dark brown hair that always looked annoyingly soft. Sharp black eyes with that permanent judgemental glint in them. Pretty features that leaned almost delicate until he opened his mouth and started verbally assaulting someone's bloodline.
He looked like the kind of person who would reject you and somehow make you thank him for the experience.
A slow, ridiculous grin spread across Nikhil's face.
Oh.
Oh no.
Oh no.
He stared at the ceiling.
Then sat up abruptly.
Then flopped back down dramatically.
He had a crush.
He had a genuine, real life crush on the catty, bitchy senior who hated his guts.
And the most ridiculous part?
He felt absolutely zero shame about it.
Why would he?
He was bisexual. Always had been. It was just a fact about him. Like the sky being blue. Or ragging culture being stupid. Or MBBS students having concerning caffeine dependency issues.
He didn't advertise it because he felt no need to.
Not because he was ashamed.
And another unfortunate fact was—
Aarav was exactly his type.
Had been from day one, honestly.
Smart mouth. Pretty face. Anger issues. Tiny and judgemental. The kind of person who looked at you like you personally ruined their week just by existing.
Nikhil had always found him attractive.
But now…
Now it had shifted into something else.
Something warmer.
Something more embarrassingly affectionate.
He had a crush.
And Nikhil Goyal had always been the type of person who, upon realizing he liked someone, immediately wanted to tell them. Mostly because he desperately wanted to see the look on their face.
The fact that their entire relationship was built on mutual annoyance, public humiliation, psychological warfare, and academic hierarchy just made this infinitely funnier.
The potential for chaos was genuinely too delicious to ignore.
His excitement returned instantly.
Only now it wasn't just smug satisfaction.
It was giddy. Dangerously giddy.
The game wasn't over at all.
If anything, the stakes had just levelled up horrifically.
He had gotten the name.
The new objective was…
Actually, he wasn't fully sure yet.
But whatever it ended up being, if it involved seeing more of Aarav's flustered, furious and adorable expressions—
Nikhil really didn't mind.