EYES LIKE THAT (Shubman Gill X Ishan Kishan)

my very own

"What are you saying?" Ishan asks, hardly daring to believe what Shubman's words suggested.

"Why, you don't want to?" Shubman's teasing hand reaches for under Ishan's shirt.

Ishan jerks back with surprise, causing his lips to brush against Shubman's neck.

Shubman closes his eyes, says slowly, "Don't tell me you don't feel this too," he presses his thumb against Ishan's lower lip softly, so gently that Ishan barely feels the touch.

Ishan looks toward Shubman's lips, hardly daring to breathe. His eyes suddenly notice the pink lipstick smudged on his lips, and his heart crushes as he remembers the harsh reality, that Shubman is drunk. He probably misses his usual line of girls who fawn over him, Ishan is just a substitute.

"You...I hate this. Don't do this to me," Ishan feels his eyes welling and furiously wipes his eyes. Don't break my heart, Ishan thinks.

Shubman pauses for a moment, looking horrified. Then flinches back from Ishan immediately, "Oh my god, Ishan I'm sorry, please don't cry. I would never again... please just, don't cry," he drops Ishan's hand as if it were on fire.

"It's fine. Whatever." Ishan feels embarrassed at his overreaction. Why was he so sensitive to everything that involved Shubman?

"I'm sorry," Shubman looks so sincerely sad that Ishan feels guilty. It's not, after all, Shubman's fault that Ishan has all these complicated feelings for him.

"I have just done the one thing I promised myself I wouldn't do to you," Shubman murmurs, almost to himself.

"Let's get you into bed," Ishan says, ignoring Shubman's very clear disgust at almost having kissed Ishan. That's what he promised himself to never do to Ishan? Does Shubman hate the thought of touching him that much?

Shubman lets himself be directed to his bed and Ishan puts a blanket over him, wishing alcohol to be banned.

"What about you? Aren't you going to sleep?" Shubman asks, quietly. They sleep on the same bed, even though the room has two. Ishan knows if he decides to sleep in the other bed tonight, something will change in his relationship with Shubman.

"Yeah, I'm turning in too," Ishan says, feeling tired, and gets into the bed with Shubman and switches off the light.
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Half an hour later, Ishan still can't sleep. The government needs to be informed of this effective torture method, Ishan thinks, frustratedly shifting in his bed.

"You still awake?"

Ishan's heart stops at Shubman's husky voice, "Yes."

"Ishan, you know you're my best friend, right?"

A warm feeling settles in Ishan's stomach at those words, "I do." Ishan wonders what made him pick up this topic in the middle of the night.

"You know, Ishan.....when I was young I used to sit by the window side desk every day, hoping to be the one playing in the ground. Dad wouldn't hear of me missing school for cricket, as any good parent, of course." Shubman says, in a sleepy voice. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this, I just want... you to know, I guess."

"Go on," Ishan feels like he could listen to Shubman talk forever.

"I never knew if I was ever going to become anything, even after my parents began supporting me in cricket. Every second I didn't spend practising, a worry buzzed in the back of my mind screaming that I was wasting my parents money.
Now, even though I've made it, I feel the pressure of disappointing millions of people, on every catch that I miss, every run I neglect to make, every wicket I fail to knock down. It's like a million little regrets in my mind," Shubman's voice quietens down to a small whisper.

He pauses, as if collecting his thoughts, "You, however, make me feel like I would always be accepted, no matter what."

Ishan, distressed by his pain, reaches for Shubman's arm in the bed and holds it firmly, "I would accept you even if you commit murder."

Shubman laughs, and there is peaceful silence. Ishan feels like this is how he would like to fall asleep every day, with Shubman's laugh in his ear.

"You know, Ishan, there are all these girls who want me, but nobody holds a candle to you," Shubman says, softly.

Ishan can feel his eyes on him, even in the dark. He feels himself get worked up, his heart thundering in his chest and feels blood rush into his face. It's scary how much Shubman's words can affect him.

Shubman suddenly coughs, as if realizing something.
"Of course by that, I mean, as in, you're the best platonic companion I could ask for."

Ishan's heart sinks again. Of course.

Even though he didn't have to point it out like that, it was better that he did, Ishan thinks. It recently felt like they were blurring a lot of lines between them.

Time passes and Ishan almost falls asleep when Shubman says,

"I feel like we were destined to cross paths. You're like my very own guardian angel, Ishu."