Ict bl oneshots

19. Ishan - Shubman🔞 (Drunken confession)

For : Bts-kewwani

Top         : Ishu
Bottom : Shubu

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In the quiet of his apartment, Shubman Gill leaned against the wall, his heart racing as he tried to piece together the events of the previous night. The faint scent of whiskey still lingered in the air, a silent reminder of the uncharacteristic boldness that had claimed him.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, the screen lighting up with a message from Ishan Kishan. He took a deep breath and swiped it open.

"Hey, what's up, man?" Ishan's text read, the casual tone at odds with the tumultuous emotions churning within Shubman.

Shubman's thumb hovered over the screen, his mind racing. "Just dealing with a hangover," he replied, the lie feeling like sandpaper against his conscience.

He couldn't bring himself to replay the confession he had made under the influence of alcohol. The words had spilled out, raw and unfiltered, and now he was trapped in a cage of his own making.

"Oh, rough night?" Ishan responded, a hint of amusement in his tone. "You were pretty wild at the party."

Shubman winced at the memory, his cheeks flushing. He had never been one to lose control, but the whiskey had turned him into someone else entirely. The way he had stumbled over to Ishan, the way he had grabbed his hand, and the way he had looked into those dark eyes, filled with a mix of terror and longing, as he had blurted out his deepest secret. It was all a blur of regret and embarrassment now.

He typed out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, you could say that. I might've said some things..." His voice trailed off as he contemplated the potential consequences of his drunken admission.

Ishan's response was swift and cryptic. "We'll talk about it later."

The conversation ended with that, leaving Shubman to stew in his own anxiety. He had no idea how to navigate the minefield of emotions that lay ahead. The cricket pitch had always been a place of comfort for him, but now, even the thought of facing Ishan on the field filled him with dread. He had crossed a line, and there was no going back.

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The following day, the sun blazed down on the cricket field as Shubman took his position. Sweat trickled down his neck, not just from the heat but from the anticipation of seeing Ishan again. The tension was palpable, a silent spectator in their game. He couldn't help but sneak glances at Ishan, trying to gauge his reaction, but the other man remained stoic, his focus solely on the match.

The game progressed, the thwack of the ball against the bat a rhythmic backdrop to their unspoken tension. Every time their eyes met, Shubman felt his stomach drop. Had Ishan forgotten? Was he okay with it? Or was he just biding his time?

During a break, as the other players huddled around the cooler, Shubman found himself cornered by Ishan. His heart thudded in his chest as those intense eyes bore into him.

"So, about last night," Ishan began, his voice low and serious.

Shubman's mouth went dry. "I... I don't remember much," he stuttered, hoping against hope that his friend would let it go.

Ishan smirked, a glint of something unreadable in his gaze. "Well, I do. And I think it's time we talked about it."

The words hung in the air, heavy and unavoidable. Shubman knew he couldn't dodge this conversation much longer. He took a deep breath and followed Ishan to a quieter spot under the shade of a nearby tree.