fade into you | shubman gill x ishan kishan

flowers pt1

it was ishans birthday party. shubman watched, a giant smile enveloping his face and a strand of hair framing it. his tropical cake almost lightened up his already bright eyes, as his 6 friends gathered a rounding, chanting his happy birthday song. shubman was the loudest, watching him snap his head around, give him a smile and blush. shubman almost cooed at him, as ishans red face offered him a piece of cake after the song, which shubman gladly took. shubman hated chocolate cake, but he would eat anything if it meant that blinding smile on ishans face would stay right there.

after the cake cutting, he watched, eyes burning with desire, as ishan nestled against his friends, between mayank and abhishek. uncomfortably close. suddenly the room was 100 degrees hot, as shubmans unwavering eyes rested on mayanks strong hand, on ishans inner thigh. why didn't ishan sit with him? it has been 4 years, and shubman was dying to talk to him, but it was clear the other didn't care. shubman got up from his spot across the room, going to the kitchen to get a drink.

ishan watched shubman get up and leave, a sense of emptiness growing in him. he noticed how the younger face seemed to have fallen as soon as he had sat down, and ishan wondered if it was because he knew none of ishans new college friends. they had both grown up together, in bihar, been neighbours all their lives, and best friends, and sometimes even something else, before ishan moved away to delhi for uni. shubman, on the other hand, pursued cricket, now 20 and competing for a spot on the national cricket team. ishan hadn't seen the younger boy in almost 2 years, since this wedding back at home, but they had barely had a chance to talk, given ishan arrived late after work and shubman left early for a match the next day. ishan wondered if shubman was upset about how ishan had grown away from bihar, barely visiting, due to his tight schedule. but he found too hard to admit that a part of his heart would always belong to the shy 16 year old he began to love all those years ago, with dimples as deep as valleys and a heart as pure as gold.

so ishan, as if on auto pilot, removed himself from the snug spot on the couch and towards shubman, who was hovered over the sink, doing the dishes. ishan could see the prominent slump of his shoulders, his six foot frame somehow suddenly reducing to a little boy, all because of how ishan had chosen to sit with someone other than him. ishan almost grabbed him and pulled him into his arms then and there, but he pulled himself together. there was still a lingering sense of awkwardness between them, their relationship suffering from years of misuse.

ishan cleared his throat 'shubman?'
shubman stilled from in his movement, still not turning around.
'shubi' ishan muttered, voice as sweet as honey. a voice reserved only for him, only for this boy who he had spent all those years alongside.
shubman let out a soft whimper, the nickname jutting into his heart like a rusty knife. oh, how he had longed to hear that name from ishans voice.
shubman would wake up everyday for the past 4 years in the blind hope that ishan would somehow be there next to him. that he would have ishans strong arm thrown on his waist, his hot breath on his skin. shubman had grown. he was taller now, stronger, with dreams and aspirations bigger than their little village back home, but in ishans presence, he reduced to the boy he was when they first met, all bright eyed and blushing.

ishan took note of the way shubman turned around. he noticed how shubman was more confident now, more composed in his actions. gone were the days where he was a lanky teenager, awkward stubble and glasses to accomodate his charming face. he had now taken full control over his body. ishan thought how alike he was to a phoenix, in the way he moved, the way he looked.

what ishan did not realise is that he was staring at shubman, who was now giving him a perplexed face.
'ishan? earth to ishan!' he yelled, waving his arms around manically.
ishan snapped out of his haze.
'w-what?'
suddenly smug, shubman crossed his arms. ishan gulped at the size of his biceps. they had been like grapes the last time they'd met. and now they were watermelons.
you're just really hungry ishan thought to himself
or really horny his brain supplied.
shubman crossed the distance between them, still looking into ishans eyes intently. ishans wavered under the gaze.

'so, how's it been?' he asked
ishan was stumped. it was a simple enough question, but ishan didn't now how to reduce all these years of life apart from shubman into sentences. he wasn't cohesive (or stable) enough to explain how he had never had relationships past flings, or gone to any bihari restaurants, or let a man who was 6 feet tall and with dimples pass by him without following them blindly. he couldn't admit how he was secretly pining for him all these years. how pathetic he felt, to be in love with a boy he doubted ever loved him back, or loved boys in general.
so he replied with 'good'
shubman nodded in response, with an unreadable expression. ishan hated how he couldn't read shubman like a book anymore.

he remembered in 10th grade when he had first begun seeing his best mate as more than just a best mate, and shubman had appeared at his door one afternoon, flushed and sweaty.
ishan could tell on his young face that he was distressed, his eyes pressed together, his usually plump lips pulled together in a line. he could see the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes, and ishan knew he had a fight with his sister. he knew shubman just needed someone to hold him and tell him he'd be alright, and after a couple hours he would go back to normal. he was more than happy to be the person who held him, so he ushered him into the house and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. he never asked about these fights, all he knew is that they were bad, and they transcended the emotional barrier shubman had. some days, after a particularly bad one, shubman would show up on the doorstep with nail marks on his pale arms. ishan never asked why shubman had them, or why he never let ishan touch him on those days.

ishan, frankly, didn't care why his sister was so mean to shubman. all he knew is that he wanted yo kill her for it.

ishan thought all those things as shubman asked him another question.
'they, i didn't get you anything for your 21st'
ishan chuckled. he couldn't tell him that he was the only gift ishan wanted 'no, no you didn't' he replied instead.
'well, what about flowers? what's your favourite flower ishan'
you his mind supplied dangerously
'oh well, i've never gotten flowers before. surprise me'
he said
shubman have a dramatic gasp
'who are all these lovers you've had in the last four years? none of them bought you flowers?'
ishan knew it was a trick, one from shubman to try and figure out if ishan was single, to see where he stood. but ishan had always been soft when it came to shubman, so instead of being sarcastic with his reply, he said softly
'would've been weird if i had dated someone. but i havent. not in four years'
he looked back up at shubman, eyes scanning him for a reaction. but shubman provided him with nothing.
'well, be ready tomorrow morning. i will be at your doorstep with flowers and a proposal to go get coffee'
ishan smiled his sugary sweet smile in response.
his favourite flower was bringing him flowers.
how could he not feel like the luckiest man in the world?

— ••• —-
i wrote this instead of a part three for from far away... i just couldn't find inspiration for that one. but part two for this is almost ready. so you can expect it sometime this week! thank you guys for 2k and almost 200 votes, i appreciate it so much ❤️❤️