it's okay if it's you | ishman ✓

CH: 8

it's as if the floodgates opened. shubman is torn apart by his own thoughts.

when did it happen? did it really happen? why? how?

too many questions and no one to answer but him. he now knows the root of that terrible gut feeling he's been having for a week. a series of 'fuck fuck fuck' loops in his mind.

this is not the worst that could happen, no. that night was a drunk daze for both of them. a little kiss? a little making out? that can be justified. that can be excused.

the worst that could happen is already on its way of happening. the lines are blurring in shubman's mind and heart. he's been feeling emotions you're not supposed to feel for your best friend. your very male, very straight best friend.

the biggest question that's eating up shubman at the moment is if ishan remembers as well? or was he too drunk? or does he remember and has decided to ignore it for the sake of their friendship?

god, shubman is really starting to feel sick now. this is worse than a hangover.

"oi, they are heading out for some football. let's go, let's go, hurry up!" ishan's voice stops his inner monologue.

"it's cold," shubman groans.

ishan clicks his tongue, shooting him an annoyed look. "don't give me that, i called you in earlier. but you stood there, looking like you're having an existential crisis."

boy, if only he knew.

"where is your passion? where is your manhood?" ishan yells, wearing his cleats and throwing a pair socks at shubman.

"ugh, how long have these been rotting for?" he says, scrunching up his nose.

ishan looks up. "oh, that's mine, hehe. get your own socks! hurry up!"

shubman sighs. maybe some warm-up will do him good. playing will get things off his mind.

"be ready to kiss the ball on field," he says, challenging an already fired up ishan. shubman is all bark and no bite, but ishan might just really hit it right at him. freakishly competitive he can be.

ishan laughs. "sorry, but i have plans of kissing the trophy tonight."

"trophy? you mean, an ice-cream from rohit bhai?"

ishan scoffs. "don't be jealous, shubi. i'll kiss you too if we win."

shubman rolls his eyes at that but his heart flutters a little inside. shut up.

"what? five outfielders each? let's just play basketball then." ishan fusses at the lack of players.

shubman chuckles. "this is warm-up, ishan. besides, you're so small, they'll dunk you inside the basket."

"shut the fuck up, shubi. and dunks are overrated anyway."

hardik joins them, saying, "says the cricketer."

"don't side with him," ishan whines. hardik laughs and ruffles his hair.

"ishan's gonna be in my team, hardik, move,'' surya says, beaming.

"how come you're never this excited about being around me?" shubman asks with a pout.

surya gives him a 'really?' look.

"because hanging out with ishu is fun," he says.

"hey, im fun too! didn't we just hang out this afternoon?"

"hang out? you mean stalkin-"

"AAHH! im so hurt, surya bhai, im so hurt," shubman cries out. surya snickers, looking at his efforts to cover up.