If This Feelin' Flows Both Ways | ShubIsh

VII

When Shubman was a kid, he hated sleeping next to his dad on the days he returned home drunk. He couldn't stand his breath and found him unbearably annoying. And his poor father now would've perhaps felt extremely hurt to know that Shubman had warmed up to a drunk Ishan, but never to his own father in the years they spent together as father and son.

Imagine him finding out that his son had even gone as far as kissing the very same Ishan who had puked twice that night and once on his bed, that they both were sleeping on too.

Shubman who didn't even stay close to the vicinity of his father who anytime suffered a hangover and ran away calling him 'smelly', was now dragging Ishan into the bathroom after the latter puked on the bed and on Shubman's nightshirt.

Shubman should be disgusted. To be Frank, he kind of was at first, he was damn mad to have been awoken too but this was the first time Ishan ever looked so peaceful and absolutely clueless after all the world cup stress.

And Shubman just assumed it that was his utmost responsibility to take care of Ishan for how Ishan took care of him every night before a match, even until the day before the finals. Also not that Ishan could help it, being drunk out of his mind. Shubman was also the reason why Ishan drank so much in the first place and he shouldn't have left the other guy unattended when he was already drunk.

Or maybe he was just finding excuses instead of just directly saying that he was down bad and sure the stench is quite bad, but it's okay, because it's Ishan.

Ishan for whom he– yes, is definitely down bad for. He's far out of denial now.

One would say that he had beaten all levels of simp mode with the way how instead of fuming and leaving the room to sleep beside Shreyas or someone else he just decided to carefully pick Ishan up, carry him all the way to the bathroom and delicately place him in the bathtub, still admiring the latter who still has slight discomfort and relief from his post throw up laced into his features.

His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes closed but troubled and a small pout was  adorning his lips.

He stands up to leave and let Ishan freshen up before the latter softly whines and pulls at his hand.

Shubman swears that his heart stops for a moment when Ishan asks, "Can you help me?" in a small and tired tone, his eyes now open, and when the look on his face is so so innocent- Goodness, how would Shubman ever bring himself to say no?

Ishan enjoyed spoiling and coddling him and now he was getting the chance to return the same to Ishan, Ishan who always calls him a child and teases him despite being the shorter one, of course Shubman wouldn't let this change go. He too wanted to play the role of the 'elder one' for once. He too wanted to take care of Ishan.

Throat still dry from staring too much at a very gorgeous Ishan, he fakes a cough. "Come on. We'll get you cleaned up." And even a seven year old would easily understand from his tone how absolutely weak he was for Ishan.

He had turned on the water before he changed the sheets in order to save time. And while changing the sheets did he realise that he hadn't slept that night. At all. He had gotten about fifteen to twenty minutes of sleep entirely before Ishan, seemingly conscious but still not entirely aware that he was still in bed, thought it was probably funny to turn over and puke on the bed.

He had contemplated just sleeping beside Ishan again on the other bed after changing the sheets of the one they'd slept on previously, but there was still some part of him that wasn't down bad enough to comfortably sleep beside a sweaty, freshly-puked, gross and stinky Ishan. The man had danced a lot that night. He also drunk a lot. And ended up vomiting a lot too.