EYES LIKE THAT (Shubman Gill X Ishan Kishan)

heart-shaped lips

Silence.

The kind of silence that makes Ishan feel like he could bang his head into a wall till it bled.

He feels the cold air on his chest and hurries to put his shirt back on, blushing deeply. Shreyas still doesn't speak and the only thing to be heard is the rustling of Ishan's clothes.

Ishan chances a glance at him and feels immense guilt at the sight of his mouth still hanging open.

Shubman stirs beside him and clears his throat, "Bhai, I was just helping Ishan.... he spilled something on himself...."

Shreyas says in a restrained voice, "I'm not blind, Shubman."

Shubman flushes but grabs the end of Ishan's shirt, he points to the cocktail stain-

"Don't make me say it," Shreyas' voice was taut, "I mean I can see- your state." He waves vaguely in Shubman's direction, his face getting faintly red.

Shubman's silence incriminates him. No one speaks for a while.

They both feel immense relief when Shreyas sighs and says, "Look, we'll talk tomorrow morning. I need to process this. Don't get up, Ishan, I'll just sleep in your room." He abruptly leaves the room without really looking back.

Ishan doesn't speak for a while, he felt awfully shaken up by reality. His hand trembles from shock as he asks Shubman-

"Are you- do you regret it?" Ishan studies his expression, he wanted to see if Shubman was scared. Or embarrassed to be caught with him. Maybe now he would realise how hard it was for them to be together, to face judgement from their loved ones. Surely, it would be easier with a girl.

His reply is firm, and his hand reaches for Ishan's. "No."

Relief floods him but another concern follows immediately.
"Tomorrow- what do we say?"

"Whatever you want. We can tell the truth," he looks at Ishan, his eyes searching, "We can make up some lie."

"I don't think he would believe it," Ishan says thoughtfully.

"No, he would not," Shubman says, squeezing his hand. Ishan close his eyes, leaning into his touch. This was his, he thinks, finally his. He brings Shubman's hand to his lips and smiles, unable to help himself. It was hard to be worried, when he finally had claim over Shubman's touch.

"I'm sad that you had put to your shirt back on," Shubman says as he traces the outline of Ishan's lips.

"Are you?" Ishan laughs, feeling relaxed, the sting of Shreyas' abrupt exit leaving him completely.

"Mhmm," Shubman brings his mouth to Ishan's and kisses it softly from one side, "When I first met you, I remember thinking that you had heart-shaped lips. It felt weird, to see a boy looking so pretty."

"Aren't you being a bit shameless? We just got caught," Ishan tries to roll his eyes but it was hard since there were actual explosions in his chest the moment Shubman called him 'pretty'. He would've hated it if anyone else had called him that.

"Yeah, so shouldn't we go all the way?" Shubman mumurs, his eyes still on Ishan's lips, only going lower and lower. "Now that we've been caught."

"About that," Ishan says, feeling nervous again. Now that he could think clearly again, he drinks in the significance of what they were about to do earlier. "I don't know how... I mean.. I obviously haven't ever..." He blushes again and bites his lips, trying to find the words.

Shubman watches him struggle for a second and then abruptly cuts him off with a kiss, which starts sweet but then turns bruising and rough. Ishan mind goes utterly blank and he places his arm around Shubman's neck, forgetting what he was talking about.

Shubman parts, panting, "As slow as you want it, Ishan. Just try to not be so fucking tempting."

--------

The morning came, bringing all the dread Ishan had managed to forget in the night.

"Does he know? Whatshisface? The manager?" Shreyas asks, looking a little unsure. It was early in the morning when he had knocked on their door, still in pyjamas. Apparently a night of reflection had made him even more confused about what to do.

"Yeah, Kartik knows," Ishan quickly explains, "But according to him we've ended this relationship, so please don't tell him."

"Thank god. If he knows, then he'd have told you every possible consequence," Shreyas exhales, tension visibly leaving his body, "Means I don't have to say anything."

"So you've no objection, then?" Shubman straightens, relief in his eyes. Though he didn't show it, he wanted the acceptance of his team member just as badly as Ishan.

"Why would I? It's your love life."

"So you don't think we're selfish?" Ishan asks hopefully, "Kartik said.. it could impact the others' career as well."

"Selfish are the homophobic people who will throw a fit when they find out," he says slowly, his expression becoming annoyed, "All those people who think they have a say over your love lives."

Ishan and Shubman's face splits into a simultaneous smile.

"Just try to keep it low-key. Try to keep your doors locked. Snatch the joint key from Yuzi and run, god knows he can't keep a secret." He grins back at them.

So that was that. The conversation had ended, sweet and simple.

And, for the two of them, the next few days went smoothly as ever, Shubman and him would keep their kisses behind doors, cornering each other the moment they'd stumble in.
Frantic. Hungry. Tugging at each other's clothes. Murmuring promises and turning conversations into confessions. Filling the room with sharp gasps and moans. It never went too far though, they took it slow. It was agonising for them, even though it had only been two days. But they knew they had all the time in the word, so the anticipation was bearable.

On the third morning, Ishan pulls his mouth away from Shubman's body, to look at his phone. It had been buzzing like crazy.

"Who is it?" Shubman says, irritably.

Ishan opens his messages, trying not to tip his head back with pleasure as Shubman's hands slowly travel up his thigh. His unabashed impatience makes Ishan blush, but he clicks on the name anyway.

Kartik Seva

People are speculating on the internet.

No big deal.

Just go out to dinner with this girl on Saturday. Let the paparazzi snap you. It would be just this one time.

The rest of the upper management asked it.

Another message pops up on the screen that very moment. Ishan's phone vibrates in his hand as he reads on-

It's not a request.