THE DEAL | Hardik Pandya | Virat Kohli
Episode 1 – Locker Room Fantasy
Episode 2 – What is your Fantasy
The night was heavy with tension as Hardik returned to the room where Ishan and Shubman sat in anxious silence. Their eyes darted up the moment he walked in, searching his face for any sign of reassurance.
“Well?” Ishan asked, his voice shaky.
Hardik ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. “I talked to him. He… he didn’t say much. Just walked off to his room with that look.”
“What does that mean?” Shubman pressed, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed. “Is he going to tell someone?”
“I don’t know,” Hardik admitted, his voice low but steady. “He didn’t make any promises, and that’s what worries me.”
The room fell silent, the weight of the situation sinking in. Ishan leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly. “What are we going to do?”
Hardik sighed, sitting down heavily on the chair by the window. “I’ll try again tomorrow. I’ll talk to him and make him see the reason. For now, we just need to act normal. Don’t let anyone suspect anything.”
Shubman nodded reluctantly, but the worry in his eyes remained. Ishan leaned back against the headboard, his gaze distant. “Let’s hope he listens,” he murmured.
Hardik glanced at the clock, his resolve hardening. “He will. I’ll make sure of it.”
The Next Morning: Confronting Kohli
The training facility was quiet, the team slowly eased into the morning routine. Hardik kept his distance from Kohli during breakfast, observing him carefully. Kohli was composed, his expression unreadable as he spoke with the coach and a few teammates.
When Hardik saw him head toward the steam room after training, he seized the opportunity.
The steam room was enveloped in a dense fog, the air thick with heat and moisture. Kohli sat on the wooden bench, a towel draped loosely around his waist, his posture relaxed but his expression tense.
Hardik stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him. The sound made Kohli glance up, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“What do you want, Hardik?” Kohli asked, his tone neutral but edged with annoyance.
Hardik took a seat on the opposite bench, the heat immediately clinging to his skin. “I want to talk,” he said simply.
“We already talked,” Kohli replied, leaning back against the wall. “And I told you how I feel.”
“And I’m telling you, Virat, this doesn’t have to go anywhere,” Hardik pressed. “No one else needs to know.”
Kohli scoffed, shaking his head. “You think it’s that simple? You’re asking me to ignore what I saw. To pretend nothing happened.”
“Yes,” Hardik said firmly. “For the sake of the team, for the careers we’ve built—yes, I’m asking you to let this go.”
Kohli didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on a distant point. The silence was suffocating, the steam amplifying the tension between them.
Temptation
Hardik shifted on the bench, letting his towel fall slightly to reveal more of his thigh. He caught Kohli’s brief glance, the flicker of something unspoken in his eyes.
“You know,” Hardik began, his tone lighter now, almost teasing, “you’re not as calm as you think you are.”
Kohli raised an eyebrow, his gaze hardening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Hardik leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “It means you’re curious. I can see it.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kohli shot back, his voice sharp but his body betraying him as he shifted uncomfortably.
Hardik smirked, leaning back and letting his towel slide further. “I think I do.”
The tension in the room reached a breaking point as Hardik stood, moving to sit beside Kohli. His movements were slow and deliberate, the proximity between them electric.
“You don’t have to fight this,” Hardik murmured, his voice barely audible over the hiss of the steam.
Kohli’s resolve wavered, his breathing shallow as Hardik’s confidence filled the room. Hardik reached for the towel at his waist, letting it fall away completely. Kohli’s gaze flickered downward before snapping back to meet Hardik’s eyes.
“No one’s here, Virat,” Hardik whispered, his tone both reassuring and inviting. “It’s just us.”
Kohli hesitated, his fingers gripping his own towel tightly. Hardik leaned closer, his voice a low murmur. “Let go. You can trust me.”
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Kohli’s grip loosened. The towel slipped away, and for a moment, the two men simply looked at each other, the unspoken tension finally given room to breathe.
The steam room seemed to grow quieter, the thick heat wrapping around them like a cocoon. Hardik leaned in just slightly, his gaze steady and filled with intent. Kohli’s breath hitched, his eyes narrowing as he tried to decipher Hardik’s next move.
“Why are you doing this?” Kohli asked, his voice huskier now, tinged with frustration and something else he couldn’t quite name.
“Because I can see it in your eyes,” Hardik replied softly. “You’re fighting something you don’t need to fight.”
Kohli let out a low, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You think you know me so well?”
Hardik’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “I know enough.” His hand hovered just briefly, a hesitation that spoke volumes before he rested it lightly on Kohli’s knee. The touch was barely there, but it sent a jolt through Kohli, his body tensing as he stared at the man before him.
“Hardik—” Kohli began, but his words faltered when Hardik’s hand slid just slightly upward, his movements slow, deliberate.
The space between them disappeared as Hardik leaned closer, their foreheads nearly touching. “You don’t have to say anything,” Hardik whispered. “Just let this happen.”
Kohli’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his body betraying him as he leaned in, their lips brushing in a tentative, barely-there kiss. It was fleeting, a mere whisper of contact, but it was enough to set everything else in motion.
Hardik deepened the kiss, his hand moving to Kohli’s shoulder as their mouths moved together in a rhythm that was both urgent and exploratory. Kohli’s hesitation melted away as he responded in kind, his hands finding Hardik’s waist, pulling him closer.
The steam swirled around them, their bodies illuminated in the soft glow filtering through the room. Every touch was charged, every movement deliberate. Hardik’s lips trailed down Kohli’s jawline, pausing to press a kiss to the sensitive spot just below his ear.
“You’re full of surprises,” Kohli murmured, his voice low and rough as his hands slid along Hardik’s sides.
“And you’re full of walls,” Hardik replied, his tone teasing but affectionate. “Maybe it’s time to let them down.”
Kohli’s laugh was soft, almost disbelieving. “You’re relentless.”
Hardik grinned, his hands moving to cradle Kohli’s face. “And you love it.”
Their connection grew bolder, the steam room filling with quiet breaths and soft sounds as they explored the moment together. Hardik’s confidence steadied them both, his every action laced with care and intent. Kohli, usually so composed and in control, found himself letting go, the tension that had gripped him for so long finally releasing.
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“ABHIFAKES”
As the steam began to settle, the tension in the room softened, leaving Hardik and Kohli in a moment of quiet understanding. Their breaths were heavy, their bodies still close, but the vulnerability between them was undeniable.
Hardik leaned back slightly, his gaze steady as he studied Kohli’s face. “You don’t have to decide anything now,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Just know I’m here, and I mean it when I say this doesn’t have to go anywhere.”
Kohli nodded slowly, his expression a mixture of relief and contemplation. “It’s not just about this,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “It’s about everything else.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Hardik replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. “One step at a time.”
Kohli sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “You’re a pain, you know that?”
Hardik laughed softly, standing up and grabbing his towel. “Yeah, but you’ll thank me one day.”
As he walked toward the door, Hardik paused, glancing back. “Think about it, Virat. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Without waiting for a response, he stepped out, leaving Kohli sitting in the steam room, deep in thought. The door clicked shut behind him, but the atmosphere lingered, heavy with unspoken possibilities and the faint stirrings of something more.
Hardik headed back to the locker room, still lost in thought, but the faint sound of a phone camera clicking made him freeze in his tracks. He turned around quickly, scanning the empty corridor. There was nothing. Or so it seemed.
Shrugging it off as paranoia, Hardik continued walking, unaware of the figure lurking in the shadows, phone in hand. A smirk played on their lips as they typed a cryptic message:
“Caught in the steam. Let’s see how much heat you can handle when the truth comes out.”
The text was sent, and the episode ended with the glow of a phone screen disappearing into the darkness. The stakes had never been higher, and someone was pulling the strings from the shadows.
Wondering who’s the one sends a text
And really excited for the episode 4
It’s just a full of surprises and love .
Hopefully its another cricketer and they are in sex with Virat or hardik and more sex filled in episode 4