Ye lo ji yaarnishu

***

"How much for an hour?" a man asked, his shoulders slouched as if that was the one thing that would keep his identity secret.

Guys always asked for an hour. Did they even realize how long that is? God, Ishan would be bored out of his mind if someone actually made him lie there for an entire hour.

There was a part of him that was waiting for Shubman, and that was the part he had been thinking about the most lately.

He was not his personal whore. He didn't belong to him. He wasn't beholden to him.

He was in this for the money, and turning away clients because one guy might show up and overpay wasn't not good business.

So he smiled and inclined his head. "Hands, mouth, or ass?"

He shrugged. "How much for all?"

"Ugh. All for an hour?" He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "You sure there, stud? That's going to cost you."

He looked at Ishan, and his eyes were cold. "Just tell me the price."

Ishan didn't want this. But if he had to take it, he going to make sure he could take a day or two off afterwards to recover.

"Nine," he said, "whether or not you last the hour."

The man chuckled and nodded his head for Ishan to follow. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll last."

He walked behind him and tried to keep his face calm despite the dread crushing his ribs. What was wrong with him? It was really good money. How many people could make four figures for just an hour's worth of work?

He had done more for less before. One time, he had been the main event at a bachelor party. Seven dudes, all drunk and horny, and none of them with any manners.

This was just one guy.

He could do this.
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Ishan wished he hadn't done that.

He lied on the bed and stared at the ceiling while the man was on his way out the door. The man used the entire hour and Ishan needed to get out, but he couldn't move.

His entire body was exhausted.

He forced himself to roll over and reach for his discarded pants to grab his phone, then he hit the contact number for his brother.

"What's up?" Mayank's voice asked on the other end.

Ishan groaned and set the phone next to his head as he buried half of his face in the stiff, starchy pillowcase.

"Can you get a bath ready for me?" He asked. "I'm on my way home."

There was a small, sharp inhale. "Okay."

The line went dead just as someone knocked on the door.

"Time's up. Buy another hour or get out so I can have the room cleaned."

Ishan mustered up all of his strength to get up off the bed and grab his clothes. As soon as his pants were on for a minimum amount of decency, he walked out of the room and past the stout man outside.

God. He should have charged more. A lot more.

He made it to the main street and sit down on the sidewalk. It wasn't a long walk, but fuck, he wasn't sure if he had it in him to make it home.

Maybe it was time to finally get a normal, shitty low-wage job. He hadn't liked this before, and now, he was starting to hate it.

He hated being used and abandoned like this for his brother to pick up the pieces.

"Are you okay?" a voice asked. It was the last voice Ishan wanted to hear.

He didn't look up. "Hey, Shubman. Sorry, I'm closed for maintenance."

Ishan heard him crouch down beside him and felt his warmth as he ghosted his fingers over the red welt on his arm that was definitely going to turn into a bruise.

"What happened?" He paused, then asked in a low tone, "Did that guy do this to you?"

"Yep," Ishan snapped and glared at him. "Just got finished, actually. I gave him what he paid for."

He didn't know why he was mad at Shubman.

That's a lie. Of course he knew why.

Because Ishan liked him, and that scared the shit out of him.

Ishan gave a lopsided grin and cocked his head to the side. "What are you doing here, Shubman? Couldn't find me at my corner, so you thought you'd find me here? Someone's desperate."

His brow knitted in a soft look of concern. "I saw you leave with him and waited. Then an hour went by and I got worried."

Ishan laughed and stood, though his legs wobbled and threatened to give out. "Gotcha. Well, I'm still loose, so if you want a quick one, I can--"

"I don't want anything," Shubman interrupted and stood to put his hands on his shoulders. "Let me take you back to my place. Not for sex. I've got a first aid kit at home."

With a chuckle, Ishan shook his head. "Yeah, no. I have a very strict policy of not going to clients' homes. That's how whores end up dead."

Shubman didn't flinch. It was scary, really. He didn't seem put off by Ishan at all.

"I said not for sex." He pulled his hands away. "Let me get you some ice and clean up that cut on your neck. Then you can leave."

Ishan blinked in surprise and reached up to touch his own neck, feeling around until something stung and he winced. Then he stared at Shubman as the anger and fear subsided

"It's a firm no on that," Ishan said, slowly, cautiously. "But I'll bend my other policy." His gaze darted away and he lost the tension in his shoulders, slumping in defeat. "Can you help me get home?"

Without a word, Shubman looped his arm across his shoulders and held Ishan against him. Ishan led the way like it was some kind of awkward three-legged race for drunkards. Mayank was waiting at the door, and he scowled when he saw Ishan wasn't alone.

"Ishan!" Mayank grabbed his arm and yanked him away from Shubman. "The rules!"

"I'm too fucking tired for the rules." Ishan pushed him off and hobbled towards the bathroom. "Fuck the rules. Shubman's not going to be that kind of creep."

He could hear the shift in Shubman's demeanor, like someone turning on an old television that filled the air with a weird static.

"Oh," he said, his voice curling with his smile. "You're Shubman."

Ishan tossed his clothes in the direction of the hamper and settled into the hot bath that had been waiting. He groaned and submerged everything but his head below the water.

It was scalding hot. Exactly what he needed. Mayank knew well enough by now.

He tilted his head to put his ears underwater to drown out the sound of Mayank and Shubman talking like he wasn't some guy who paid Ishan to have sex with him.

Because Mayank definitely knew well enough by now.

Ishan tried to focus on what his next step was. From everything Mayank complained about, he knew he'd get fired for mouthing off to a customer if he tried to work as a waiter. That was right out.

Retail? He could be a cashier. He thought, "That is a job, right? Or do cashiers have to do things like clean up aisle five?"

Shit. He had never realized how out of touch he had been with the real world.

Just as panic started to climb up his throat like bile, he heard the muffled sound of knocking. He sat up and look to see Mayank standing at the doorway, biting his lip.

Ishan raised his brow. "What?"

"He, uh, Shubman. He's... nice." Mayank stifled a grin into a smile. "Listen, I'm gonna head to the pharmacy. Do you want something in specific?"

"Chocolate," Ishan said, rubbing his hands over his face. "Something with caramel."

Mayank nodded. "Okay. I'll be right back."

Once he heard the front door shut behind him, Ishan let out a long sigh and sunk down into the water.

"Fuck, what am I going to do?" He asked the silence.

"About what?" the silence answered back in Shubman's voice, and Ishan heard footsteps approach.

"Oh." Ishan stared at the ceiling. "You're still here, huh."

Shubman's voice was soft as he asked, "Do you want me to leave?"

"I don't know," Ishan admitted, and it might have beeen the hardest thing he had said in a long time.

Shubman came into his peripheral vision and sat down next to the tub, one hand reaching out to run his fingers through Ishan's hair. The touch was so gentle, so soft, that he couldn't help but lean into it.

"Then I'll stay for a little bit, if you don't mind," Shubman said, and Ishan looked over to see a smile on his face. "Not for sex."

Ishan wanted to ask why, but he didn't want to know the answer. So he just leaned back in the hot water and closed his eyes. There was an intimacy in the air that Ishan didn't want to risk chasing away with questions.

The water grew lukewarm, so he stood up and reached for a towel, but Shubman had already grabbed it and was holding it open for Ishan to step into. Ishan looked at him, trying to read his face, and found nothing hidden. Carefully, he stepped out of the tub, and Shubman wrapped both the towel and his arms around Ishan.

"Shubman," Ishan said around the lump forming in his throat.

Shubman made a quiet shushing noise and released him from the embrace to run the towel along Ishan's arms with slow, gentle circles. He made no remark when he continued lower and his appreciation for Ishan's body, from the tender touches was evident.

That was the moment Ishan realized that he was absolutely fucked head over ass.

The quiet tension was broken by the sound of Ishan's phone chiming from the hamper, and he cursed under his breath as Shubman stepped back to let him past. Ishan found his phone still in his discarded pants' back pocket and saw a message from Mayank.

I thought I might do some shopping since I'm out anyway. Please don't do anything on the couch!

"Is everything okay?" Shubman asked, keeping a respectful distance.

Ishan kept his back to Shubman as he stared down at the subsequent eggplant emoji. There was a depth of Mayank's blessing to the words that was buried between several lines, and Ishan tried not to smile.

"Yeah," Ishan said, tossing his phone on the counter. "If I asked you to leave, would you?"

"Of course," he replied without hesitation.

Slowly, Ishan turned his head to look at him over his shoulder and tried not to sound as fragile as he felt. "And if I asked you to stay?"

This time he paused. Shubman regarded him with an open look of curiosity, then finally said, "Whatever you want, Ishan."

Hearing him say his name was something Ishan never expected to have such an emotional reaction to. He looked back ahead of him and braced himself with a sharp intake of air. "I want you to stay. Not as a client, not as a lover, just..." Ishan's hand lifted to grip his own other arm in a half-hearted attempt to hug himself. "Just Shubman. Just someone who doesn't want anything from me for tonight. Okay?"

Shubman stepped closer and wrapped both of his arms around him in a much more comforting embrace than his own, and Ishan allowed himself to lean into it.

"Ishan, you're allowed to be comfortable, you're allowed to want or not want things. And ofcourse, I'll stay with you." He stated, and the fact that Ishan could hear how much he meant, it was the straw that broke his resolve.

Without another word, Ishan pulled him to his room and climbed into bed. Shubman simply slid in next to him, clothed and on top of the comforter that Ishan nestled into. One hand strokes Ishan's cheek, a caress so gentle that he feel nothing except... safe.

***

Thank you for reading💖
Have a good sleep💤

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