EYES LIKE THAT (Shubman Gill X Ishan Kishan)

lose the shirt

Ishan's mouth drops open and he looks up at him, "What?"

Shubman laughs at his expression, "I'm saying that this is definitely not friendship, sweetheart."

"Oh," Ishan shifts in the bed, slightly blushing. So it was just an analogy. Huh. He tries not to look disappointed or Shubman would think he was this perpetually h**ny pervert.

Now that the rush had slightly worn off, he wanted to ask so many questions but he still couldn't think clearly. His mind was going in wild directions and he felt.... the only thing that could be felt, being pressed against him and looking into his brown eyes.

A sudden thought occurs to him. Shubman had not said whether he liked Ishan or not.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Shubman asks, perplexed by his silence.

God. He had said nothing. Did that mean... he was just going along with Ishan because he had confessed. Because he was too nice to reject him? And he certainly seemed calm about this new... situation while Ishan's nearly melted at his one touch.

Shubman leans forward to push Ishan's hair back from his forehead, because they were all mussed up from the grabbing and kissing.

"Nothing," Ishan says, his heart throbbing, trying to shift out of reach of Shubman's touch.

"Hey," Shubman's hand roughly take a hold of Ishan's chin, "You're really pushing my limits here. Why do you always try to leave me after a kiss?"

Ishan rolls his eyes, try to disguise the fact they were getting teary. "Like a kiss matters to you."

Shubman narrows his eyes, "Huh?"

Ishan feels the insecurity settle in. Was he even... did he even like boys? Was this just an experiment? He was always going around dating everyone. Was he going to be one of his many relationships?

"Do you even like me?" He bursts out, unable to hold it in.

Shubman stares at him, completely speechless.

"Oh god. I'm right, aren't I? So this is just.... an impulse? Just casual? Is it even that? Or do you just pity me? Oh god, I should've known. You seemed more interested in that black dress girl than me," Ishan says and almost immediately regrets the words leaving his mouth. He didn't want to admit that he was upset at how unaffected Shubman seemed by..... well, him.

"Hey, hey, hey," Shubman looks shocked and shakes his head. "Wait. Do you not know?"

Ishan's jaw trembles. "What?"

"That I am fucking crazy for you?!"

Ishan closes his eyes, savors the word, demands his mind to etch the moment into his memory. He lets himself hope for a second, then remembers.

"Then why did you even leave with that girl? Why did you let her grind on you in front of everyone. What was all that about? Are you that casual about kissing someone? Is this all casual for you?" Ishan's voice breaks.

"I can't believe you're really asking me this, Ishan," Shubman's eyes flash, "But because your 'friend' was putting his hands all over you, right in front of me. Especially while you were wearing that awfully flimsy, transparent shirt. You don't see how that might bother me a little bit?" He ends the sentence sarcastically.

"We—"

"As for casual," Shubman expression suddenly becomes closed off, hard, "Ishan, do you realize how much I'm trying to hold back? Just to not scare you away?"

"There's nothing to be scared of," Ishan says, stubbornly. But he felt a little relieved. So Shubman did care.

"Oh, really," Shubman stares at him for a moment, incredulous. Then, the annoyance leaves his eyes and something else replaces it, entirely. His expression turns.... almost arrogant.

He then looks down at his trousers. Ishan follows his gaze.

Oh.

Oh.

Ishan tries to pull his eyes away. And fails.

"Umm...." his eyes are still fixed on his clothes.

"In case you were wondering, yes, this is your fault."

Ishan blushes, he finally looks up but doesn't dare look Shubman in his eyes. He gulps and tries not to think about the fact that it was him who had made Shubman this way, but the sentence and its implication lights him up anyway.

"Is there.... anything I can do?" Ishan stares at his trousers and bites his lips. He feels heat pool sharply to the pit of his stomach.

Shubman cocks his head to the side and Ishan immediately knows he's going to mock him, "Are you sure you're not scared?"

Ishan is scared, scared of exploding if one more minute goes by without him touching Shubman. He deliberately places his hand on Shubman's thigh, who sucks in a quick breath. Teasing goes both ways.

He swallows roughly, all mirth disappearing from his face,
"I am sure I can think of a couple of ways you can... help."

"Yeah? Tell me," Ishan ached to lean forward and touch, kiss and mark him up. His frantic mind had calmed down.
Because Shubman had said it. Shubman liked him.

"Don't look at it like that. It would probably just make it... harder." Shubman tries not to smile as Ishan blushes.

"Let's start by telling me where he touched you."

"Hmmm?" Ishan was still focused on Shubman's lips.

"Dhruv. He certainly seemed like a handsy fellow," Shubman's jaw tightens as he says this.

"Nowhere. I mean he was just buttoning my shirt at some point, but that's it," Ishan says slowly, wondering where the conversation was going.

"Lose it."

What?

"Lose the shirt." His voice; authoritative.

Ishan heart races so quickly that he feels sure it is a heart attack. But he obeys anyway, he brings up his arms slowly eases the shirt off of him. After removing it, he doesn't look at Shubman. He feels the blood rush into his face and tries not to show the nervousness and excitement on his face.

He hears Shubman take a quick intake of breath and looks up. Shubman is staring at him, his body. All there is, is a pause. A silence.

"Perfect," Shubman manages to say, "You look.... perfect." Ishan feels his heart swell at the praise and leans forward, heart pulsing—

The door clinks and clanks and opens.
Shreyas strides into the room, humming some tune, oblivious to the two's presence. His gaze roams over the room and he does a double take.

"WHAT?" Shreyas' mouth drops open.

Oh. Right. They had switched roommates.