Whispers of Love

Love's Melody

One week later, Shubman was getting ready for school while Ishan busied himself in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

The aroma of spices and freshly cooked food filled the air, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.

"Jaan, aana toh," Shubman called out.

"Aate hain!" Ishan shouted back, smiling as he finished giving instructions to the worker. "Dekho, ham aate hain."

He made his way towards their room, where he found Shubman standing with a pout on his face.

"Kya hua?" Ishan asked, a mix of concern and amusement in his voice.

Shubman looked up at him and pointed to his shirt. "Button tut gaya," he said, showing the broken button.

Ishan chuckled softly and walked over to him.

He opened a drawer, took out a needle and thread, and began sewing the button with practiced ease.

Shubman watched him intently, mesmerized by the way Ishan worked so skillfully.

Every delicate stitch made Shubman's heart swell with admiration and love.

Without even realizing it, his hands found their way to Ishan's waist, holding him gently but firmly.

After a few minutes, Ishan finished sewing the button and put the needle away.

"Ho gaya," he said proudly, patting Shubman's shoulder.

"Thank you," Shubman said, his voice filled with gratitude and affection, making Ishan smile.

Just as Ishan was about to walk away, Shubman pulled him back by his waist.

"Ab kya hua?" Ishan asked, resting his hands on Shubman's shoulders, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"Ab ye hua," Shubman whispered, and before Ishan could react, Shubman captured his lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was slow and deep, a blend of love and longing.

Ishan's hands moved to cup Shubman's face, his fingers gently tracing the contours of his jaw.

Shubman's arms tightened around Ishan's waist, pulling him closer as if trying to merge their souls.

Time seemed to stand still, and for a few precious moments, the world outside ceased to exist.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other.

"Aap bhi na," Ishan murmured, his cheeks flushed, but his eyes shining with happiness.

Shubman smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from Ishan's face.

"Main bhi na, kya Ishan," Shubman whispered in his ear, making Ishan shudder.

"K-kuch nahi," Ishan stammered, feeling both flustered and thrilled by his husband's closeness.

Shubman traced his lips along Ishan's ear, his breath warm and tantalizing.

His lips traveled down to the junction of Ishan's neck and shoulder, where he planted feathery kisses that made Ishan moan softly.

"S-suniye," Ishan managed to say, his breath heavy with desire.

"Hmm," Shubman mumbled against Ishan's neck, continuing his sensual assault.

"Aapko der ho rahi hogi," Ishan said, gripping Shubman's biceps for support.

"Hone do," Shubman replied, undeterred.

He continued to tease Ishan, his kisses growing more urgent.

As he moved, he noticed a mole on Ishan's neck that he hadn't seen before.

The sight of it stirred something deep within him, an overwhelming desire to claim it.

Without wasting a second, Shubman began to suck on the mole, drawing a loud moan from Ishan.

"Ahhh..." Ishan moaned, his hands entangling around Shubman's neck.

The intensity of Shubman's attention on the mole made Ishan's entire body tremble with pleasure.

Shubman sucked and nibbled on the mole with fervor, as if his life depended on it.

When Shubman finally pulled back, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

He looked at Ishan's flushed face, his lips red and swollen, eyes hooded with pleasure, and chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

It was a sight that Shubman wanted to behold every day.

Ishan glanced at Shubman with a shy smile before hiding his face in Shubman's chest, his heart pounding.

"Kya hua, jaan?" Shubman asked, his voice calm and casual, as if nothing extraordinary had just transpired.

Ishan peeked up at him, his cheeks still flushed.

"Kuch nahi," he murmured, his voice tinged with a mixture of embarrassment and happiness.

After eating breakfast and stealing some kisses in between, Shubman left for the school, which was just a kilometer away from their house.

As Shubman departed, Ishan decided to explore the house.

However, after a while, he grew bored of wandering around and went back to their bedroom, feeling a sense of emptiness.

It wasn't that Ishan disliked the house—it was beautiful and spacious.

But he felt lonely here.

Back in the village, time used to pass quickly because he was always with his mother-in-law, who made sure that Ishan never felt bored or lonely.

Now, he lay on the bed, unsure of what to do.

After some contemplation, he decided to check out Shubman's home office downstairs.

As he entered, he was awestruck by how perfectly organized it was.

Shubman had always preferred tidy spaces, in contrast to Ishan's clumsiness.

Many times, Shubman had gently reminded Ishan to keep things tidy, but he had never scolded him for his messiness.

Ishan walked around the office, running his fingers over the neatly arranged books and files.

Everything had its place, reflecting Shubman's meticulous nature.

Ishan smiled fondly, appreciating the effort Shubman put into maintaining order.

He noticed a framed photo on the desk—it was from their wedding day.

They both looked so happy, eyes sparkling with love and excitement for their future together.

Ishan picked up the photo, a warm feeling spreading through his chest.

He missed Shubman already, even though it had only been a short time since he left for work.

Ishan decided to spend some time organizing his own things.

Maybe he could surprise Shubman by making his side of the room neat and tidy.

He returned to their bedroom and started sorting through his belongings, humming a tune to himself.

As he worked, he felt a sense of purpose and connection to Shubman, imagining how pleased he would be with the effort.

By the time he finished, the bedroom looked much more orderly.

Ishan felt a small sense of accomplishment and couldn't wait to see Shubman's reaction.

He glanced at the clock, realizing there were still a few hours before Shubman would return.

Feeling inspired, he decided to prepare a special lunch for them.

Cooking was something he enjoyed and was good at, and he knew Shubman would appreciate a homemade meal.

As he moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and stirring pots, Ishan felt content.

The house felt more like a home when he was busy, filled with the anticipation of Shubman's return.