Love on the Pitch

Selfless Love

In no time, September arrived, and the next IPL match was held on 19th in Dubai.

On the 20th, KKR defeated RCB by 9 wickets, Shubman was satisfied as Ishan immediately made his way from the pavilion to the dressing room to congratulate him.

Ishan reached near Shubman's locker only to find him busy with his phone, carelessly typing with just one glove off, sporting that full dimple smile of his.

Ishan's presence obviously divided his heed as he shortly looked up, Ishan managing a chuckle stretched his hand forward, "Congrats."

Shubman smilingly doffing his other glove off as well, firmly shook Ishan's hand, "Thanks, man."

He replied and then returned to his phone. Unable to refrain his curiosity Ishan sidely leaning against the locker asked as casually as possible, "Who is it?"

Shubman provided Ishan an unmindful glance, his fingers not ceasing to type, "Sara obviously."

Well, okay, this was nothing new.

"Hogya? Patchup tum dono ka?" Ishan knowingly queried.

Shubman granted him another quick look before turning to his locker to toss his gloves inside, "Breakup hua hi kab tha humara, it was just a fight jo hoti rehti hai."

He ended, properly gazing at Ishan, who just gave him a nod with a tight smile, barely muttering "Right."

Ishan watched Shubman take off his sweaty jersey, his muscles flexing as he did. Although they were used to being nude around each other, in the hushed atmosphere of the lockers, the sight caught Ishan off-guard while he cautiously yet obliviously checked Shubman out.

Bulging veins on his biceps extending till his broad shoulders, tracing the path to his chiselled collar bones, adam's apple bobbing up and down, his throat must be dry, a gold chain dangled from his long neck, reaching his strong chest with a stubble–hmm very manly, pecs leading the way downward to his sculpted abs, certainly pumped after a rigorous game.

Chucking the shirt on a nearby bench, Shubman's pants followed, a happy trail down his belly button disappearing into his white boxers which flaunted the swell of his manhood, ripped thighs supporting him as he stripped the pants down his legs before they joined his jersey on the bench.

Shubman had no business looking this smoking hot. Has he grown more buffed? Clearly, that seems to be the case.
Nothing homo about it, just an appreciation.

Ishan was swift to shot his gaze up when Shubman's eyes met his, "Chal mai fresh hokar aata hun" he informed before walking off. Ishan's eyes impromptuly took a glimpse at other's muscular ass. okay stop.

He looked away, rather spotting Shubman's phone on the bench as Sara's text lit up its screen.

Goddamn right, Ishan sighed, blankly gazing in front before hastening his feets out of there.

Why would this shit infuriate him so much?

Shubman has been doing.....things to him lately, he doesn't know how to explain it. Something about his love for his bestfriend has been feeling unfamiliar since a long time. He tries to be ignorant regarding it. It's something he can't decipher but it definitely makes him feel bizarre, he doesn't want to decipher it actually, the possibility scares him, it's only good if he doesn't reach a conclusion, its nothing, absolutely nothing.

Albeit, one thing he has deduced is that he needs to clear his head anyhow.

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The rest of the month and half of October kept them busy with matches. Chennai Super kings won the final match by 27 runs, beating Kolkata knight Riders and securing the IPL trophy.