Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was the kind of match where the stakes blurred into the rhythm of the game—no fear of winning or losing, just cricket in its purest form, unburdened, like sunlight warming your skin on a winter afternoon. The kind of day that made everything feel easy.

Shubman stood in the slips, eyes tracing the wicketkeeper's every movement. The way he crouched, poised and ready. The way he dived, body twisting midair as if gravity itself bent to his will. The way he murmured something teasing to the batsman, words slipping between grins, laughter catching on the wind. There was a recklessness to him, an ease that made him impossible to ignore. Shubman wanted to carve every inch of it into his memory—the glint of sweat at his jaw, the unguarded mischief in his eyes, the way his presence turned the air electric.

"Catch it."

The words barely registered before the ball came hurtling toward him. He reacted on instinct, hands closing around it just in time—barely. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, but it had nothing to do with the catch.

His half-healed cut had started to bleed again.

{ Would you bleed for me? }

The team erupted in celebration as another wicket fell. Ishan was in the middle of it—laughing, bouncing on his feet, his energy infectious. Before Shubman could join in, he had a handful of Ishan's jersey, someone—maybe Virat—ruffling his hair in the chaos.

He turned, voice low, teasing, "T-shirt hata ke paseena chatega?"

"Pagal wagal hai kya?" The response came quick, flustered.

{ Lick it off my lips like you needed me? }

Hours passed before the umpire finally called off play, the light too dim to continue. The game was over. Players stretched, exhaled, dragging their bodies off the field. In the dressing room, Shubman sat on the bench, toweling sweat from his neck, muscles aching in that way that felt satisfying.

{Would you sit me on a couch? }

A water bottle appeared in front of him. The cap already off. Ishan passed it to him silently.

{With your fingers in my mouth?}

Shubman let his gaze drag over him before locking onto his eyes, taking the bottle wordlessly. Ishan swallowed.

{You look so cool when you're reading me.}

By the time they reached the hotel, exhaustion was a quiet hum in their bones. The others peeled off toward their rooms, but Shubman was walking too close to Ishan. A step behind. A breath too near.

{Let's cause a little trouble.}

Ishan swiped his keycard, Shubman's breath fanning the back of his neck. A shiver ran down his spine.

{Oh, you make me feel so weak.}

Inside, the door clicked shut. Shubman sighed, tossing his jersey aside, broad chest rising and falling as he exhaled deeply. The scrape on his cheek was red, raw. Ishan stepped forward, fingers brushing against his bandaged knuckles before hesitating—then reaching for his cheek, lingering. Longer than necessary.

{I bet you kiss your knuckles, right before they touch my cheek.}

He pulled back, turning toward the bathroom.

Shubman didn't move. Only unbuttoned his trousers, shoving them off before dropping onto the bed, arms spread, exhaustion pressing into his limbs. His eyes traced the ceiling, unblinking.

Inside, Ishan splashed cold water on his face.

{But, I've got my mind made up now.}

He inhaled sharply. Exhaled slower. Then unlocked the door.

Outside, Shubman shifted his gaze from the ceiling to Ishan, still sprawled across the bed. He spread his thighs apart, tipped his chin. An invitation.

{Cause there's a menace in my bed.}

Ishan walked to the window, sliding the curtains open. The moonlight cut through the dark, washing over Shubman's bare skin. Ishan stood fully clothed, the contrast stark.

{Do you see his silhouette?}

He turned back, stepping toward the bed, eyes burning but face unreadable.

"You're on my side," he murmured.

Shubman didn't move, only shifting slightly at the sound of his voice.

{And I've got my mind made up this time.}

Smirking, Ishan leaned in. Slowly. He dragged in a breath, starting at Shubman's hips, inhaling his scent as he moved upward. Closer. Closer.

Shubman's eyes slipped shut. His breath hitched.

"Ish..." It was barely a sound, more exhale than word. But it did something.

It set something alight.

{Go on, and light a cigarette, set a fire in my head.}

Ishan hovered, mouth just shy of touching. Close enough that Shubman arched, seeking contact. But Ishan only smirked, pressing a single finger to his chest, pushing him back down.

{Set a fire in my head, tonight.}

Shubman's body tensed beneath the touch—just a fingertip, yet it sent pleasure rippling through him. When he opened his eyes again, there was something new in them. A glint. A challenge.

"Are you sure about this?" His voice had dropped low.

{Would you lie to me?

Cross your sorry heart and hope to die for me?}

Ishan didn't blink. "As much as you are."

Shubman was on him instantly, flipping their positions in one smooth motion, his smirk now mirroring Ishan's. He crawled downward, hands slow, deliberate. He kissed his toes first, then his ankles, trailing up his calves as he peeled away layers of clothing. His mouth traced the bare skin beneath, pressing kisses over sun-warmed flesh.

Higher.

He met Ishan's gaze, half-lidded, unreadable. Then pressed their lips together, deep and consuming.

{Would you pin me to a wall? Would you beg or would you crawl?}

Maybe Ishan had always been this sensitive to tenderness. His eyes were half-closed. His cheeks were flushed and his lips parted, his head turned slightly to one side.

{Let's cause a little trouble

Oh, you make me feel so weak}

They were tangled together, Shubman on his back in the sheets, where Ishan in the last driving moments, had pushed him.

{I bet you kiss your knuckles

Right before they touch my cheek}

Shubman lay in the warmth beside him and felt the soft hair against his neck, the slight weight of Ishan where their bodies touched.

Stirring drowsily, Ishan made a soft, unthinking sound of pleasure that Shubman was going to remember for the rest of his life. 

And then Ishan was blinking sleepily, and Shubman was watching Ishan grow aware of his surroundings and come awake in his arms.

{Don't forget me, don't forget me

I wouldn't leave you if you'd let me}

He wasn't sure how it would be, but when Ishan saw who was beside him, he smiled the expression a little shy but completely genuine. He never thought Ishan would look at him that way.

They were gazing at one another. He held himself still as Ishan reached out and touched the plane of his chest. " I Love You", the words came out sounding like he felt: helplessly charmed.

{Don't forget me, don't forget me

I wouldn't leave you if you'd}

tnavresbo eht era evol ni desruc reveroF

liated eht ot evals a reveroF