THEM 'Ishman'

Whispered Temptations (1)

Once again, I am so sorry, little beam of sunlight, @Akshita_01, that I did not wish you on your birthday... I luvv uhh so much, my lovie cherry... And once again, happieeee buday to uhh... <3

 Wish our baby gurl, bhidu log..... (I am super late T^T)

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Rain lashed against the apartment windows, the steady rhythm blending with the distant hum of traffic below.

 The city lights outside blurred into soft, shimmering halos, their glow diffused by the relentless downpour. 

Inside, the warmth of the room offered a sharp contrast to the storm's chill, wrapping everything in a cocoon of comfort. It was the kind of evening that begged for soft blankets, steaming cocoa, and the quiet companionship of a favourite movie.

But for Ishan, it meant enduring another long night trapped indoors with Shubman.

They were roommates—an arrangement born of mutual convenience. But living with Shubman was anything but easy. 

The man was charming, confident, and effortlessly flirtatious, and..and..and somewhere so much tharki (it's a secret).

He had made it his life's mission to unsettle Ishan at every opportunity.

Tonight was no different.

"Snuggle puff, come here." Shubman called from the living room. His voice was honey-smooth, the nickname dripping with playful affection.

Ishan, who had been hiding in the kitchen under the guise of making tea, froze mid-pour. 

He cursed under his breath, muttering, 'What now?' before raising his voice to respond. "What do you want now?"

"Stop pretending to be busy, muse. Come watch the movie with me." Came the smooth reply.

"I'm not pretending, Shubman." Ishan grumbled, setting the teapot down and bracing himself for what awaited him.

He stepped into the living room to find Shubman sprawled across the couch, one arm draped over the backrest like he owned the place.

He had ditched his usual hoodie for a loose t-shirt that clung to him in all the right places, and his sweatpants hung low on his hips, revealing just a hint of the waistband underneath.

"Finally, come on, my precious. I saved you a spot." Shubman said with a grin, patting the empty space next to him.

"Stop calling me that." Ishan snapped, though his cheeks flushed a tell-tale pink as he hesitated near the couch.

"Why? Because it's perfect for you. You're soft, adorable, and as delicate as a flower petal. You're radiant and pure, like the first light of dawn. You're breathtakingly unique, with a charm so innocent and precious that it feels almost otherworldly. You're my playful, sweet, and cuddly dreamer—gentle yet mesmerizing. Every part of you is beautiful, from your shy glances to your endearing quirks. You're my delicate masterpiece, my serene little prince, and the most exquisite piece of my universe." Shubman said, his smirk widening.

"I-I You do-don't have to say t..this much." Ishan stammered, his face now a vivid shade of red as he reluctantly sat down, leaving a cautious gap between them.

"Aw, come on, Baby. Don't be shy." Shubman teased, shifting closer until their thighs brushed.

The warmth of the contact sent a jolt through Ishan's body, making him stiffen. 

"D-Do you have to sit so close?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, It's cold, and you're warm. You are just like that fragile, deliberate and precious soft ray of sun which I need in my crisp, cold winter's morning." Shubman said with a shrug, his tone nonchalant but his gaze anything but.