Beauty and the Bodyguard

Chapter 9: Heroic Victory

Shubman was frustrated. Normally, he would be perfectly fine not talking about things - one of his favorite hobbies was sitting in silence. But this? This was killing him. The day after the shootings, Ishan was quiet, subdued, so Shubman decided to give him some space to sort himself out. He wanted to talk about whatever had happened that night - the way Ishan had nuzzled him, called him Shubi - but as days went by, he frustratingly noticed that Ishan was happy to behave as if nothing had happened - as if he had not turned Shubman's life over itself. He was back to his usual chirpy self, but Shubman was getting more and more agitated as days went by.

Today, they had arranged for a friendly cricket match, as decided on the basketball court. Shubman and Ishan were on opposite teams, and if the smirk on Ishan's face was anything to go by, Shubman's team was in a lot of trouble. Shubman's team had won the toss and elected to bat. They were getting to a comfortable score, when Ishan, in a helmet too big for his face, caught Siraj's wicket behind the stumps. His wicket-keeping skills were second to none, Shubman was frustrated to notice. He kept calling for DRSs enthusiastically and was generally a menace on the field, but all of Shubman's attention was captured by the way Ishan's pants stretched over his ass, giving him a view of that luscious bottom. He kept adjusting his pants as he watched the way Ishan licked his lips, the same lips that had nuzzled Shubman a couple of days ago. He sought to distract himself by sitting near Shikhar, when Shikhar spoke up,

"Ready to go next, Shubman?"

"A little nervous, actually."

"Don't be, you'll do great - just try not to let Ishan get in your head."

Too late, Shubman observed internally. Shikhar continued, unaware of Shubman's internal turmoil.

"He likes running his mouth off from behind the stumps, and I am ashamed to tell you how many times I have lost a wicket because of the little shit's psychological warfare."

Shubman could sympathize, but before he could open his mouth, another wicket dropped, and it was now Shubman's turn on the field.

Ishan welcomed him with a big 'whoop' as the bowler delivered his bouncer, which Shubamn skillfully changed into a boundary. His team cheered, and he looked at Ishan to find him clapping with a prideful look on his face.

But that did not stop Ishan from taunting and generally being a nuisance - while Shubman dominated the crease with cover drives and sixes, Ishan mumbled songs and hollered for a DRS after every other bowl. Shubman tried to concentrate, as he was finding a rhythm in cricket, which was making him very happy. The bowlers tried their best, but Shubman seemed invincible - soaring sixes and fours peppered the field quickly. After a particular difficult bowl and a jest from Ishan, Shubman's frustration boiled over - he narrowed his eyes at Ishan, and asked:

"Ishan, tshirt hatake paseena chaatega?"

Flabbergasted, Ishan could not retort quickly enough, and could only come up with "pagal waagal hai kya?"

Satisfied, Shubman turned his attention to the field. The innings ended with a breathtaking 67 for Shubman who was satisfied with the score he had put up. After a short break, they quickly ran to the field to defend their score of 208 runs.

Ishan's team started strong, but they quickly fell to Yuzi's bowling - with 3 wickets down, they were only up to 60. Shubman was looking forward to rubbing his victory on Ishan's face, when his highness came onto the field. His first few balls were dot balls, which increased the pressure on his team, while Shubman relaxed slowly, happy to just watch Ishan's form on the field. Then, Ishan started, and Shubman understood why everyone had suddenly turned serious when he came on the crease.

If Ishan was a demon with a gun, he was a supernova with a bat. He swept shot after shot gracefully, and Shubman was finding it increasingly difficult to not stare in awe as Ishan's muscles rippled with every shot he took. He did not care who was bowling, his bat became a weapon of destruction, as he hit sixes and fours in every direction. Soon, his team was well on its way to victory, as Ishan cinched a 50 effortlessly. When Ishan finally won the match for his team with a resounding six, no one was less surprised than Shubman, who ran over to Ishan and gave him a tight hug. Surprised, Ishan hugged him back just as tightly, identical to how he had fallen asleep in Shubman's arms that fateful night.

As decided, the losing team had provided the food, the drinks, and the music at the get-together on the Gills' terrace that night. Everyone was in a good mood - eating, drinking, and in one instance, trying to pull Siraj's pants down. Shubman was lazying on a beanbag, too tired by the day's activities to get up, but also because it provided an excellent viewpoint to watch Ishan, who was playing beer pong with a couple of guys. Shubman did not know when his entire universe narrowed down to watching Ishan, but he was not looking back. It had been a new sensation for Shubman, who had been perfectly happy in his own cocoon. He now spent his days chancing a glance at Ishan, feeling butterflies in his stomach when their eyes met, and trying to make Ishan smile any chance he got. To add fire to the fuel, Ishan reciprocated - though not in a way that Shubman probably imagined it.

Ishan was everywhere - saving him from people shoving against him, taking him to his favorite foodie spots, bringing him tiny gifts that reminded him of Shubman - but the best of all was this - he had started calling Shubman 'Shubi'. Shubman loved the sound of his name on Ishan's lips, and concocted ways for Ishan to call him more.

Right now, Shubman watched, as Ishan went to the DJ to whisper something to him, after which the DJ changed the song to a slower one. Shubman watched, entranced, as Ishan called for Rutu, and hand in hand, they started slow dancing. The others hooted and cheered at the funny image, but all Shubman could notice was Rutu's hand on Ishan's waist as he pressed him closer for a dance.

Shubman was not a violent man, but at this moment, all he wanted to do was break Rutu''s fingers and get him as far away from Ishan as possible. He wanted to march over there, yank Ishan off of Rutu, and haul him away to someplace where no one could get their hands on Ishan. He did nothing of the sort, but watched them both, while the glass in his hand was squeezed to within an inch of its life.