Drawn to trouble. ( Ishman FF)

Chapter 8

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden hue over the college grounds. Shubman had been practicing for an hour, his muscles gleaming with sweat, when he noticed Ishan walking out of the building, engrossed in his phone.

A sly smirk spread across Shubman’s face. Perfect timing.

He pulled off his jersey, tossing it aside, and resumed playing, intentionally showing off his toned body. As Ishan walked by the basketball court, completely oblivious, Shubman decided to take matters into his own hands. He grabbed the ball and hurled it lightly in front of Ishan’s path, making it bounce just enough to catch his attention.

Startled, Ishan paused and looked up. “Oh!” He bent down to pick up the ball and walked toward Shubman.

“Here you go,” Ishan said, handing it over. As his eyes finally took in Shubman’s shirtless form, he blinked a few times, a faint pink tinge coloring his cheeks.

Shubman leaned on the ball casually, flexing just enough. “Thanks, sir,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

But instead of the reaction he was hoping for, Ishan’s expression shifted to one of concern. “Shubman, it’s getting chilly. You’ll catch a cold if you stay like this.” His voice was gentle, genuinely worried.

Shubman blinked, his smirk faltering for a moment. “I’m fine, sir. It’s just a little sweat,” he said, trying to maintain his cool demeanor.

Ishan shook his head slightly, his brow furrowed. “Sweat and evening breeze don’t mix well. You should put your jersey back on.”

Shubman sighed internally, realizing his grand plan to seduce Ishan had been derailed by his teacher’s ever-present innocence. Of course, he’d be more worried about my health than anything else.

“Alright, sir,” he said, grabbing his jersey from the bench and slipping it back on. “Better?”

Ishan nodded, satisfied. “Much better. Take care, Shubman.” He offered a small smile before walking off, his focus already shifting back to his phone.

Shubman watched him go, shaking his head with a chuckle.

As Ishan was about to leave, Shubman called out, “Sir, wait!”

Ishan turned around, curious. “Yes, Shubman?”

“Do you need a ride home?” Shubman offered, leaning casually on the basketball.

Ishan shook his head with a polite smile. “Oh, thank you, but I’m not heading home just yet. I need to stop by the supermarket to pick up some things for the kitten.”

Shubman’s eyes lit up, and a plan quickly formed in his mind. “Oh, really? Mind if I join you? I could use a little shopping break after all that practice.”

Ishan hesitated for a moment but then nodded. “Sure, why not? I’ll wait for you to freshen up.”

Shubman grinned, hurriedly showered, and soon the two were on their way to the nearby supermarket.

As they wandered through the pet aisle, picking out cat food and toys, Shubman began spinning his tale. “You know, sir,” he started, “I’ve always loved cats. But I’ve never been able to keep one as a pet.” He sighed dramatically, adding a fake pout.

“Oh? Why not?” Ishan asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, my mom and sister are allergic to cats,” Shubman said, his tone filled with exaggerated sadness. “Every time I see someone with a cat, I get so jealous. It’s like they have what I could never have.”