Drawn to trouble. ( Ishman FF)

Chapter 43

As Ishan stepped out of the bathroom, now dressed in his modest shirt and shorts, his cheeks were still flushed from earlier. He avoided Shubman’s gaze, trying to compose himself. Shubman, lounging on the couch, immediately noticed the change in attire and let out a dramatic whine.

“Why did you change, Ishu?” Shubman pouted, sitting up straight and crossing his arms. “You looked so good earlier!”

Ishan glanced at him, his cheeks burning brighter. “Shubh... I... I couldn’t wear that for long! It was too embarrassing, Ishan explains that he changed because it got dirty. However, Shubman smirks at his words, knowing very well what was the reason behind the clothing being soiled.

"Because it got dirty, huh because of our..........ahem?" He says with a teasing tone, his eyes filled with playful mischief.
    
“Now can you shut up!”he stammered, tugging nervously at the hem of his shorts.

Shubman leaned back, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face. “You know, Ishu, you’re adorable when you’re shy. But you’ve got to get used to my plans one day,” he teased, winking at him.

Ishan rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re impossible, Shubh.......Now go change into something comfortable.”

Shubman raised an eyebrow and grinned. “But I thought you liked me just the way I am?” Shubman was sitting there all of his shirt's buttons undone and his amazing body visible.

Ishan sighed, shaking his head to avoid showing his red cheeks. “Shubh, just go and change I have kept your clothes.”

Shubman playfully groaned but stood up, stretching. “Fine, fine. Anything for you, Ishu,” he said dramatically, walking toward the bathroom.

As Shubman disappeared to change, Ishan made his way to the kitchen. He opened the pantry and began pulling out the ingredients for pasta, humming softly to himself. He knew they were both tired after their little adventure, and pasta seemed like the perfect comfort food.

He set a pot of water to boil, preparing the sauce with precise care. The warm aroma of garlic and herbs soon filled the apartment, and Ishan couldn’t help but smile, imagining Shubman’s delighted reaction.

Just as Ishan was plating the pasta, Shubman returned, now in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. He leaned against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, watching Ishan with a fond smile.

“Something smells amazing,” Shubman said, his eyes lighting up.

Ishan turned to him, holding a plate of pasta. “Dinner’s ready. Come and eat,” he said with a soft smile, gesturing to the table.

Shubman walked over, planting a quick kiss on Ishan’s temple and cheek. “You’re the best, Ishu.”They both sat down to enjoy the meal.

As they sat across the table, finishing the last bites of the pasta, Shubman leaned back in his chair, stretching lazily. He pulled out his phone and casually dialed his mother.

Ishan looked up from his plate, curious. “Who are you calling?”

Shubman smirked, holding a finger to his lips as the call connected. “Hello....Maa, mai ajj raat ko ghar nahi aauga,” he said nonchalantly.

His mother’s voice came through the phone, slightly concerned, “Kyu beta? Kaha ruk raha hai?”

Shubman glanced at Ishan, a mischievous glint in his eye. “App ki bahu ke ghar,” he replied confidently.

Ishan’s eyes widened, and his cheeks turned a deep shade of red. “Shubman!” he hissed, his voice a mix of embarrassment and scolding.

Shubman ignored him, continuing the call as if nothing had happened. “Haan, maa. Aur waise bhi, bahut der ho gayi thi. Tumhe tension lene ki zarurat nahi.”