One month before the World Cup
The fourth time was the worst.
India had just won the Asia Cup in a manner of utter domination against Sri Lanka. In the after match party, the whole partially-drunk team was still cheering for Siraj, and why not?
Shubman had not taken his arm from around Ishan's shoulders at all since the pair of them scored the winning runs. In spite of Virat bhai's loud instructions not to touch an alcoholic drink, the two of them had downed several, Jaddu bhai backing them up.
"Let the kids have their day, Virat," he said. "We had ours."
"When?" asked Shubman eagerly.
Jaddu pretended not to hear.
"Virat bhai, when, when, when?" asked Shubman, clearly already having gone tipsy, because he was leaning on Ishan's shoulder quite hard.
"Um," said Virat. "I guess he means the Champions trophy final. We were pretty wild after we collected the trophy."
Everyone around him laughed.
"It was Jaddu's idea to give Mahi bhai the slip!" Rohit bhai called over.
Shubman propelled Ishan away as he went to get another round of drinks.
"You've already had quite a lot," Ishan was forced to say. "And your tolerance is quite lower than normal."
"That's a fearful insult!" said Shubman. "I'll show you my tolerance!"
He was on to his next glass now.
"God, you reek of whiskey," said Ishan. "Lemme go."
"Mad or what?" Shubman squeezed Ishan's shoulders. "Let you go? Let you go, baby?"
Lately, Ishan had found it harder to act cheesy and coupley like they used to do. He didn't like the change in his own attitude....he didn't want to lose anything he had with Shubman.
"You know why we're going to win this World Cup?" Shubman began, his head drooping against Ishan's.
"Why?"
Ishan noted if he turned his head like thirty degrees, he could get his nose touch Shubman's.
"Because after 2019, God cannot possibly let Rohit bhai go without a World Cup...."
"Hm...."
If he dipped his head ten degrees further, he could get his mouth touch Shubman's.
"That was the philosophical trick reason," said Shubman. "Now comes the science reason. We can't not win because we have the best team and it's at our home. If we don't win, no one possibly can...."
Ishan almost started to turn his head.
"....don't you think?" Shubman turned to face him. "Ish? Ishan? Are you listening?"
"Uh-what?" Ishan jerked out of his very strange daze.
He had to force himself not to let his gaze move to Shubman's mouth again. Or further down.
Was he going completely crazy?
"Yes," he said. "Yes, of course I'm listening. We will-we, um, will-"
"Win the World Cup," said Shubman helpfully. "Which means you were not listening. Which means you were too drunk to listen. Which means my tolerance is more than yours!"
"Going in leaps, aren't you?" said Ishan.
"You're drunker than me," said Shubman. "You're definitely drunker than me."
Ishan could not fully deny that. Only, it wasn't alcohol he was drunk on.