THEM 'Ishman'

Practice makes perfect

Okay, soooooo.....little gulu gulu ahead👉👈
ATTENTION: Soft segssssss coming 😋

It started as a joke.

"I suck at kissing. Like, genuinely. I have no idea what I'm doing." Ishan announced one quiet afternoon, lying on his back in the middle of Shubman's bed, his fingers lazily tracing invisible patterns on his stomach.

His voice was casual, teasing, but his eyes were full of playful mischief.

Shubman looked up from his laptop, eyebrows raised, a soft laugh slipping out.

"You? Mr. Everyone's Crush? Please. You probably have a fan club for your lips alone."

Ishan rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching into a bashful smile.

"Flirting is different. Kissing's... delicate. And I get nervous." His voice dropped slightly, quieter now.

More honest.

Shubman didn't say anything at first.

Just watched Ishan with a strange tenderness in his eyes, like the moment had turned more sacred than silly.

The kind of silence that stretches comfortably between two people who mean something to each other.

Then, with a shy smile, Shubman said, "Well, if you ever want to practice... I wouldn't mind."

Ishan blinked. "What, with you?"

"Only if you want to. No pressure. Just-friends helping friends." Shubman looked down at his hands, suddenly aware of his heartbeat.

There was a pause.

Then Ishan sat up, his cheeks flushed, but his eyes sparkled. "Okay. Let's practice."

The air changed.

They both laughed nervously, neither quite knowing what to do with their hands.

Ishan scooted closer, hesitating, and Shubman met him halfway.

Their first kiss was tentative. Soft. Like two notes in a song trying to find harmony.

Their lips brushed gently, just enough to make both of them freeze with wide eyes.

Then they tried again.

This time, it was deeper. Still careful, still uncertain, but more assured.

Ishan let out a tiny sigh into the kiss, and Shubman smiled softly against his mouth.

It wasn't perfect.

But it felt like the beginning of something beautiful.

Over the next week, they practiced.

A lot.

It became their new secret.

After class, curled up in Shubman's bed while the sun dipped into golden hour.

During movie nights, fingers brushing as they leaned in, whispering about the plot, their voices always dissolving into laughter and-eventually-kisses between scenes.

There was no schedule. No expectations.

Just soft kisses traded like secrets.

Hesitant at first, then longer.

Slower. Like they were learning each other's rhythm.

The quiet way Ishan tilted his head just so.

The way Shubman's hand would ghost over Ishan's cheek before they kissed, like a promise.