EYES LIKE THAT (Shubman Gill X Ishan Kishan)

i think i miss u

Ishan wakes up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. His eyes search for Shubman before he remembers that they'd switched roommates.

"Really? Every day, Ish?" Shreyas groans and covers his head with a pillow. He was a light sleeper, so any slight movement from Ishan annoyed him to no end.

"It's only been two days," Ishan mutters.

Only two days? Felt more like infinity, without him. He winces, remembering what had occurred when Shub had walked in the dining room that afternoon.

Ishan's memory of their kiss was burned into his mind. Somersaults were in his stomach. Butterflies everywhere.

Then without even looking at him, Shubman had sat across Jadeja. Instead of with Ishan.

Their eyes had met briefly and his gaze flicked away, immediately. As if he didn't care.

Ishan, for the first time, realized what it felt like to be punched in the gut.

He missed Shubman. Missed his voice, his smile, his lips, his laughter, his breaths, his touch, his panda toothbrush in their bathroom, his clothes on the floor, and his comforting presence next to him when he woke up, restless and unable to sleep.

Most of all, though, he missed his friendship. He missed talking to him.

Ishan sighs. Trying to fall asleep was useless. He wanted to talk to someone, someone who'd help him figure things out.

He sits up in his bed and wonders who he could talk to. His parents? Ishan laughs quietly to himself. He imagines how that would go.

"Mom and dad, I'm gay!!! Woo-hoo! Congratulations, your son is gay! Happy Diwali! Gift? What gift? My gayness is gift enough!"

Ishan's quiet laughter gradually grows more and more hysteric at his delirious thoughts till Shreyas voice cuts through the dark.

"Should I call a psychiatrist?"

Ishan rolls his eyes, "Just go to sleep."

"See, I was, till some maniac started laughing to himself in the dead of the night," Shreyas says sarcastically and pulls his blanket over his head.

Ishan ignores him and his mind goes to Dhruv Rathore. His childhood friend.
-------------

Ishan (age 16)

His mum was still shopping for groceries.

There was a particularly horrifying rush that day and all the street vendors were yelling at the top of his voices. Ishan's mother thrust him toward a crowd gathered around a pumpkin seller.

"Buy at least two," His mother instructs him, hurrying toward a sweet potato stall. She turns around abruptly, "You have the money right?"

"Hmm."

Ishan sighs dramatically as he tries to wriggle his way into the crowd. All this just for a pumpkin?

"Ouch," Someone pushes Ishan.

"Ouch!" This time he was harshly shoved into the side. He feels a guy pressing against him, "Can you get away, please?" he yells, trying not to get buried in the crowd.

Ishan feels his mouth drop when the boy finally turns. Lips, cherry red. Hair, dark and thick. Eyes, abso-fucking-lutely dreamy. He was the most handsome boy he had ever seen to exist.

"Get out of the fucking way, shorty," the angelic boy curses. Ishan's day dream shatters.

"Why don't you go shove off somewhere?" Ishan makes a face at him.

The angelic boy studies his annoyed face for a bit and Ishan sees him trying to bite back a smile, "Whatever."

The seller turns to him, finally. "Give me two please."

The vendor quickly bags the pumpkins and Ishan reaches for the money in his pocket. Wait.
He frowns, a silent panic rising in him. His right pocket was empty.

Ishan reaches deep in the other pocket, his eyebrows pulling in. What? It was empty as well. Apparently, he had forgotten the money back home.

He was going to kill himself.

A tap on his shoulder on his shoulder jolts him and he turns to see the boy behind him.

"You dropped this." He hands the money to the vendor, on behalf of Ishan.

"I didn't drop any money," Ishan says to him as soon as they get out of the throng. He notices how the boy hadn't brought any for himself.

"No, you didn't. I saved you," the boy replies, smirking. "You owe me now."

"I'll pay you back, just wait for a bit," Ishan says ungraciously. He was thankful, but the boy's attitude got on his nerves.

"Okie."

Pause. This was awkward. Ishan looks toward the sweet potato seller. His mum was nowhere in sight, he looks around the whole mandi. Where was she????

"I'm Dhruv. Dhruv Rathore." He extends his hand.

"I'm Ishan. Ishan Kishan," Ishan mocks him with an exaggerated impression of his voice.

"You're so childish. How old are you?" Dhruv laughs.

"16. You?"

"19."

Thankfully his mom appears next to him, with a lady in a pink saree next to her.

Her eyebrows raise at the sight of Dhruv, "Dhruv, you met each other already?"

Ishan's mom claps her hands together, happy, "Wow, isn't this a total work of fate! Ishan, meet Nalini Rathore, my friend from back home! And her son, Dhruv, he's just gotten into the college in our neighborhood."

-------------

And ever since then, they slowly warmed up to each other. Ishan slowly realised that Dhruv was hard from the outside but meant no actual harm. They started playing cricket together with the other boys in the neighborhood and shared the most intimate details for their lives with each other. Ishan felt like he could tell him anything, because Dhruv never judged him.

Soon, Dhruv graduated and left, and Ishan got busy with his cricket.

They still kept up friendship. But it was mostly superficial now. They barely talked, were friends on social media and occasionally tagged each other in memes.

But if he was going to talk to someone about something as personal as his sexuality, he'd rather confide in him than anyone.

Ishan makes up his mind to meet him, and brings out his phone to text him, ignoring Shreyas' protest at the brightness of the screen.

"You up for meeting sometime soon? Just wanted to catch up."

To his surprise, the response comes almost immediately.

"Anytime."

-------****-------