Awkward proximity ( almost 🔞)

"Did you see her face?" Ishan said, laughing as he removed his bangles, getting ready for sleep.

"But don't you think you went a little overboard?" Aryan asked, his eyes half-focused on the document displayed on his laptop screen.

"Maybe... but that bitch really deserved it... ," Ishan said, applying moisturizer to his face. "If I were your actual wife, I would have punched that bitch in the face"

"What is it that you're applying?" Aryan asked, looking at his pretend wife in a velvet green nightdress. The soft fabric hugged Ishan's curves, accentuating his smooth skin and toned physique.

"It's Peach moisturizer," Ishan replied, squeezing some more liquid out of the plastic bottle. "Keeps my skin hydrating."

"Aren't you doing a little too much for this pretend marriage?" Aryan joked, raising an eyebrow. "Is that Victoria's Secret nightie and are those gallons of moisturizer even necessary?"

Ishan's face turned bright red as he looked down, his eyes avoiding Aryan's gaze.

"It's... it's... just," he stuttered, trying to come up with a reply. "You don't know how shaving is some kind of hell in itself."

"Even after four sessions in a month, I still have to shave every day to avoid looking like a gorilla in a saree," Ishan continued, looking visibly flustered and annoyed. "Do you know how much it itches after that?"

Aryan chuckled, mock surrending and going back to looking at his laptop screen. "Okay, okay... whatever you say, wifey."

As Ishan turned back, he couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest at the term "wifey".

He tried to brush it off, focusing on his nighttime body care ritual. He applied a rich body butter, smoothing it over his skin in circular motions.

Next, he applied a facial serum, gently massaging it into his skin. The soft glow of the bedside lamp highlighted the gentle curves of his face, and his eyes sparkled in the dim light.

Aryan watched him, mesmerized by the gentle way Ishan cared for his skin. He couldn't help but notice the way the soft light danced across Ishan's features, highlighting the delicate curve of his lips and the smooth expanse of his skin. Aryan's gaze lingered, and he felt a strange sense of comfort in watching Ishan's quiet intimacy with his own skin.

The gentle curves of his face were accentuated by the soft light, and his lips, even without lipstick, had a hint of femininity that was both captivating and intriguing.

As Ishan reached for a tube of lip balm, his eyes sparkled with a hint of vanity, and he applied the balm with a gentle, soothing motion.

His lips began to shine with a soft, glossy light, and their natural poutiness was accentuated, making them look plump, inviting, and utterly kissable

Ishan caught Aryan glancing at him and asked, "What are you looking at?" His voice was laced annoyance, his eyes squinting with suspicions.

Aryan's face flushed slightly as he averted his gaze, coughing a little to avoid the awkwardness.

"Nothing..." he muttered, his voice low and rough. "Anyway, we got the financial documents for StyleClick, Do you want to check those out"

His right palm moving slowly on the mouse pad with effort, tiring out quickly,.

"Don't stress your palms too much, dude," Ishan called out, finishing his night routine with a face mask. "Wait, I'm coming."

Ishan completed his night routine and climbed into bed, wearing a silky, skimpy ladies' nightdress. The fabric hugged his curves, accentuating his smooth skin and toned physique.

As he bent towards Aryan, his cleavage open for view, the soft glow of the bedside lamp highlighted the gentle curves of his breasts.

Without a bra, his breasts jiggled with each step, drawing Aryan's gaze. Aryan took a quick glance at his pretend wife and quickly averted his gaze, focusing on his work, his breath heavy.

"Let me see," Ishan said, clicking on the mousepad and scrolling through the document.

His breasts touched Aryan's elbow, and Aryan could feel a twitching in his member. He tried to remind himself that the person beside him was a man dressed in a silky woman's nightdress.

Unbeknownst to Aryan, Ishan had similar feelings, unsure why, but he liked being close to his pretend husband. Aryan's presence made him feel happy.

As they went through the documents, discussing deals and financial propositions, Aryan was impressed by Ishan's knowledge of the financial aspects.

There was an unusual tension throughout their conversation, their bodies touching, and their voices low and intimate. Ishan's hair fell in soft waves down his back, and his eyes sparkled with excitement as he explained the financial projections. Aryan found himself captivated by Ishan's enthusiasm, his eyes drawn to the gentle curve of Ishan's lips.

As they finalized the documents, Aryan turned to Ishan, his voice low and husky. "You're really good at this, Ishan."

"I might not be an Ivy League graduate..." Ishan said with a sarcastic voice, "but I'm still pretty good with numbers."

"You don't have to bring Stanford up every time," Aryan said, his face expressionless.

"Chill, yaar!" Ishan joked, giggling on his own humor "I got all those numbers because you prepared everything... You outsmart almost everyone I've met in my life. And that's a lot, coming from a self-proclaimed genius."

He laughed, causing one strap of his nightdress to slide off his shoulder, revealing his smooth chest to his pretend husband.

Aryan's eyes kept drifting towards him, his gaze lingering on Ishan's breasts. Ishan, too, couldn't help but steal glances at Aryan, his eyes locking onto Aryan's lips, his mind wandering to forbidden thoughts.

Suddenly, their eyes met, and a spark flew between them. Aryan's eyes slowly closed, and he leaned forward, his lips close to Ishan's. Ishan could feel Aryan's heavy breath, and their lips touched for a brief, electrifying moment.

Suddenly, Ishan jerked back, shocked, and shouted,

"Dude, what the fuck!" He leapt out of bed, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"I don't know...", Aryan looked equally flustered, his eyes wide with surprise. " it just happened," he stammered.

Ishan pointed accusingly at Aryan's erection, visible under his pajamas. "Then what's this?" he demanded.

Aryan shifted uncomfortably, his face reddening. "Oh, you're one to talk," he retorted, nodding towards Ishan's own arousal.

Ishan's eyes widened in horror as he covered himself with his hands.

"No, no, no! I'm not gay! I'm not gay!" he blurted out, grabbing a towel and blanket and making a hasty retreat to the couch. "I am not sleeping anywhere near you, horny bastard!"

"Well, good for you," Aryan called out, his voice laced with sarcasm. "At least get this laptop out of here."

"Not until your soldier stands down," Ishan shot back, still avoiding eye contact.

Aryan sighed, defeated. "Get the pill from the drawer."

Ishan knew Aryan hated those pills, which caused his skin to burn every time he swallowed one. He had stopped giving them to Aryan since he fired the previous assistants and usually just waited for Aryan's arousal to subside on its own.

"No, I'll wait," Ishan said, his voice firm. "Those pills make your rashes go wild."

Even in his anger, Ishan didn't want to hurt Aryan.

He walked back to the bed, his eyes closed, and gently adjusted Aryan's pillow, helping him lie down. As he did, his breast brushed against Aryan's nose, making Aryan's manhood twitch again.

"Fuck My life!", Ishan muttered as he picked the laptop along with the study table putting them away on the table.

He quickly ran off and covered himself, turning away from his pretend husband .

The awkwardness in the room was palpable. Both men lay awake, Aryan on his bed and Ishan on the couch, neither understanding the reason behind their strange behavior.

Both claimed to be straight, but the dynamic between them was blurring the lines with each passing day.

As they lay there, the tension between them was almost tangible. Ishan's mind was racing with questions. What had just happened? Why had he felt that spark? And why was he still feeling it?

Aryan, too, was lost in thought. He couldn't explain why he had leaned in to kiss Ishan. It was as if his body had acted on its own, driven by a desire he couldn't quite understand.

As the night wore on, the silence between them grew thicker, heavy with unspoken questions and unresolved tension. It was clear that things would never be the same again.

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