Drawn to trouble. ( Ishman FF)

Chapter 7

Shubman went to his next class which was English.

The atmosphere in the English class was fairly relaxed as Virat paced at the front, explaining literary techniques with his usual calm demeanor. The students were half-listening, some taking notes, others doodling in their notebooks. Suddenly, the door swung open, and in walked Rohit, the PT teacher, his energy filling the room instantly.

“Alright, everyone, listen up!” Rohit announced, clapping his hands to get their attention. “I’ve got some exciting news!”

The class perked up, curious. Even Virat paused his lecture, crossing his arms with an amused smile.

“As you all know,” Rohit continued, “the annual basketball match is happening next week. This year, we’re raising the stakes!”

Shubman and Abhishek exchanged a competitive glance. They leaned toward each other and whispered in unison, “Like last time, we’re taking the win.”

Rohit grinned, clearly enjoying the class’s growing excitement. “And that’s not all. After the match, we’re throwing a party in the evening—food, music, and a lot of fun. So, start practicing and get ready to celebrate!”

The class erupted into cheers, their energy immediately lifting. Some students high-fived, others started talking about what they’d wear to the party.

Meanwhile, Rohit glanced at Virat, his expression shifting to something more playful. “Of course, we’ll need someone elegant to oversee the literary aspect of our victory speeches,” he said, winking at Virat. “Care to help, Virat?”

Virat rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the slight smile tugging at his lips. “Sure, Rohit. But only if you manage to keep your speech under five minutes this time.”

The class chuckled, used to their banter. Rohit placed a hand dramatically on his chest. “I’ll keep it short and sweet—just like you.”

The class groaned and laughed in unison, clearly accustomed to Rohit’s flirty remarks toward Virat. Some students even whispered among themselves, joking about when the two teachers would finally admit their feelings.

“Alright, alright,” Virat said, shaking his head but clearly not annoyed. “Back to your seats. Let’s finish this lesson before the excitement completely derails the class.”

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After an intense practice session, Shubman and Abhishek lingered in the locker room, laughing about their performance as they showered and got ready to leave. Once outside, their paths crossed with Ishan and Mayank, who were just stepping out of the art room, hands slightly smudged with paint.

"Late-night art session, huh?" Shubman said, smirking as he ran a hand through his damp hair. "Need a ride home, sir? Or maybe you, Mayank?" His tone was playful, but his eyes lingered a bit too long on Ishan.

Abhishek quickly caught on and added, "Yeah, why not make it a double? I’ll take Mayank, and Shubman here can chauffeur you, Ishan sir."

Mayank glanced at Ishan, who gave a small nod. “Alright,” Ishan said, smiling. “But only because you both seem so eager.”

With that, they split up, Mayank hopping on Abhishek’s bike while Ishan climbed onto Shubman’s. Shubman felt a rush of satisfaction as he revved the engine, his teacher holding onto him lightly.

As they sped through the dimly lit streets, Ishan suddenly tapped Shubman’s shoulder. “Wait, stop the bike!”

Shubman quickly pulled over, confused. “What’s wrong?”

Ishan pointed toward the roadside, where a tiny orange kitten was curled up near a lamppost, looking frightened and alone. “Look at that little thing,” Ishan said, already dismounting.

He carefully approached the kitten and scooped it up in his arms, cradling it gently against his chest. The kitten mewed softly, nuzzling into Ishan’s shirt.

Shubman watched the scene, his eyes narrowing slightly. His gaze flicked from the kitten to Ishan’s chest, where the soft fur brushed against his teacher’s collarbone. For a fleeting moment, Shubman felt an odd pang of jealousy—That should have been me!

“This little guy looks like he needs a home,” Ishan murmured, smiling down at the kitten. “I think I’ll keep him.”

Shubman smirked, masking his thoughts. “Lucky kitten,” he muttered under his breath, loud enough for Ishan to hear.

Ishan glanced up, tilting his head. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Shubman said quickly, his usual cocky grin returning. “Just saying he’s in good hands.”

Ishan chuckled, climbing back onto the bike with the kitten still nestled in his arms. “Let’s go, Shubman. I’ll take care of this little one once we get home.”

As they continued their ride, Shubman couldn’t help but steal glances at Ishan and the kitten, his mind swirling with thoughts far less innocent than the scene before him.

As they rode through the well-lit streets, Ishan directed Shubman toward his apartment complex. The area was upscale, with tall, modern buildings lined up neatly along the road.

"Here," Ishan said, pointing to one of the taller buildings as they approached. "I live in the 20th block, 13th floor."

Shubman slowed the bike and glanced up at the towering structure. “13th floor, huh?” he said, trying to keep his tone casual, but his mind wandered. If I ever needed to sneak in… climbing this beast would be impossible.

He chuckled softly at his own ridiculous thoughts.

As they reached the entrance, Ishan dismounted gracefully, still holding the kitten close to his chest. “Thanks for the ride, Shubman,” he said warmly, his smile making Shubman’s heart skip a beat.

“No problem, sir,” Shubman replied, his eyes flicking briefly to the kitten. He leaned down and gently caressed its soft head, though his thoughts weren’t entirely innocent. Lucky little furball gets to live with him… probably sees him shirtless… or worse.

A pang of jealousy flared in his chest, but he masked it with a smirk. “Take good care of him,” he said, his voice low, almost possessive.

Ishan nodded, oblivious to the undertone. “I will. He’s already in good hands, right?”

Shubman gave a final nod, his smirk deepening. “Wish I were a kitten sometimes.”

Ishan blinked, not fully catching the meaning. “What was that?”

“Nothing, sir,” Shubman said quickly, revving his bike. “Goodnight.”

With that, he sped off, glancing back once to see Ishan entering the building, the kitten snug in his arms. That little guy better not take my spot, Shubman thought, half-joking but unable to shake the feeling.

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