THEM 'Ishman'

Sniffles and Smiles

Please read the important note which is in last..... (^-^)

Enjoyyyyy, pudding <3

.

.

.

After weeks of back-to-back matches, late-night flights, and constant travel, Shubman finally stepped back onto Mumbai's familiar soil. 

The airport buzzed with fans, flashes from cameras sparking around him, but he focused on one message flashing on his phone:

"I'm waiting for you outside."

Shubman's heart skipped a beat as he grabbed his bag, making his way out. 

Just past the crowd, he spotted him—leaning casually against his car, hoodie up, sunglasses on, and a cheeky grin. 

Nothing could mask the warmth radiating from Ishan, and Shubman's smile spread wide as he bolted over, his luggage nearly forgotten as he crashed into Ishan's open arms.

"There's my superstar!" Ishan teased, squeezing him tightly.

"Superstar? Please, you're the real star here, Mr. Kishan." Shubman retorted, burying his face in Ishan's shoulder, savoring the feeling of being home. 

He'd missed this more than he'd admit.

Their banter continued as they loaded Shubman's bags into the car, and once they settled inside, Shubman slid his hand over Ishan's, refusing to let go. Ishan chuckled, patting his hand as he pulled out of the airport.

"You missed me more than you're willing to admit, huh?" Shubman teased, a glint in his eye.

"Oh, keep dreaming." Ishan shot back, though his smile betrayed him.

As they drove, conversation flowed—about late-night street food, movies they'd binge-watch, maybe even a beach day. 

But as the sun rose the next morning, their grand plans took a sudden backseat. Shubman woke up feeling strangely heavy, his throat sore, and an ache radiating through his body. 

He dragged himself to the bathroom, hoping a hot shower might help.

Just as he was toweling off, Ishan walked in with two steaming cups of chai.

"Look who's finally up." he teased, but his expression shifted when he noticed Shubman's bleary eyes. "Whoa, wait. You okay? You look... sick."

Shubman waved him off, trying to sound convincing. "It's just a sniffle. We've got a whole day planned, right?"

Ishan raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. "We'll see if you're still saying that after breakfast, Mr. Sniffles."

But by the time they'd finished their tea, Shubman was slumped on the couch, completely drained. 

Without a word, Ishan wrapped a blanket around him, settled beside him, and handed him a steaming mug of ginger tea.

"This... this wasn't how I pictured our weekend." Shubman murmured, looking dejected as he snuggled deeper into the blanket.

Ishan smirked, tucking a loose strand of Shubman's hair behind his ear. 

"Stop acting like this ruins everything. I'm just glad you're here." He leaned closer, resting a hand on Shubman's forehead. "Now, drink up and let Nurse Ishan take over."

"Oh, Nurse Ishan? Sounds serious." Shubman chuckled, though his voice was hoarse. Despite feeling terrible, he couldn't help but snuggle closer to Ishan, feeling comforted by his warmth.