No Homo

The ride from the airport, which was only an hour long, felt like an eternity. The silence between Ishan and Aryan was heavy, neither of them daring to break it after the awkwardness on the plane.

By the time they arrived, the initial embarrassment had simmered down, but the unspoken tension still lingered like a thick fog. They hadn’t exchanged a single word the entire ride.

As the car rolled to a stop, Ishan hesitated, running a hand over his saree-clad hip before discreetly checking his reflection in the side mirror. His eyeliner was still sharp, but his lipstick had faded slightly. Out of habit, he fished out his compact mirror and retouched it.

Aryan watched, amused. "You do know you're allowed to not fix your makeup, right?"

Ishan snapped the compact shut. "Shut up."

He had barely processed his confusion when Aryan, seated comfortably in his wheelchair, casually gestured at the villa like he was introducing some five-star getaway.

Ishan looked around, Instead of the sleek, modern hotel he’d been imagining, they were standing in front of a sprawling, picturesque villa. It was nestled in a quiet, lush area, surrounded by tall palm trees and vibrant flowers.

The villa itself was stunning—whitewashed walls, terracotta roof tiles, and a large wooden door that looked like it belonged in a postcard. A small fountain gurgled in the courtyard, and the air smelled faintly of jasmine.

"Why have we stopped here?" Ishan asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

He glanced around, noticing the absence of any other buildings or signs of a hotel nearby.

"There’s no hotel around... Are we lost?"

"Why would we stay at a hotel," he raised his eyebrow, gesturing at the grand villa, "when we own this?"

"Your own villa? Of course, you do Mr. Billionaire", Ishan crossed his arms, he rolled eyes and mocked him in his cartoonish voice, "I have so much money, I wipe my tears with two thousand-rupee bills’!"

"Two thousand rupee notes are not legal tender", Aryan replied, " Beside Why do you want to stay in hotels so badly?"

"You know hotels exist for a reason, right?", Ishan annoyed," People stay there so they can have space, privacy, distance from each other."

"Privacy?", Aryan raised an eyebrow, " I got this place so you could have privacy."

"Wait what?!" Ishan’s voice cracked, his mind immediately jumping to the worst-case scenario.

'Oh no, he’s definitely planning something. Probably something involving candles, rose petals, and me screaming for help and no one coming to save me',

But instead he said, "I don’t need that kind of privacy, thank you very much."

Aryan sighed, as he explained "I figured you’d want to take a break from— oh, I don’t know—pretending to be my wife twenty-four-seven? Thought you might wanna be a guy again for a few days without people watching."

Ishan’s mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again.

"Oh… You could have led with that" he mumbled" I thought—" but quickly stopped himself mid-sentence, his face turning red.

"You thought what?", Aryan asked irritated.

Ishan bit his lip. His inner monologue was screaming:

'Abort! Abort! Do NOT say it, Ishan!' But his mouth, as usual, had a mind of its own.

"I thought you wanted to do some HOMO shit with me."

Aryan burst out laughing, doubling over as if Ishan had just told the funniest joke in the world.

"What?!" he managed to say between laughs. "What makes you say that?"

"Why are you acting like that’s so shocking?!" Ishan huffed, crossing his arms again.

"The way you were staring at my breasts at the airport? The way you let me sleep on your shoulder?! What was that about, huh?!"

"Dude, I was just joking at the airport. ", Aryan said as he wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. "And letting you sleep on my shoulder was basic decency, nothing else. You looked like you needed it."

Ishan squinted at him, "So... no homo?"

"No homo. Scout’s honor.", Aryan held up his hands in mock surrender.

Ishan let out a relieved sigh, his shoulders relaxing. "Okay, good. Because I was about to start looking for the nearest exit."

"Glad we cleared that up." Aryan grinned, maneuvering his wheelchair closer to Ishan.  Now, let me show you one of the hundreds of properties we own. Try not to be too impressed."

"Oh, I’ll try.", Ishan rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. " But no promises."

As they made their way toward the villa, Ishan couldn’t shake the feeling that this trip was going to be anything but normal. He was relieved, of course, that Aryan wasn’t trying to seduce him—probably.

But somewhere deep down, a tiny, unacknowledged part of him felt a pang of disappointment. It was ridiculous, really. Why would he care if Aryan had no feelings for him? He didn’t even want Aryan to have feelings for him. Did he? No, of course not. That would be absurd.

Still, as he glanced at Aryan, who was effortlessly maneuvering his wheelchair up the villa’s smooth pathway, Ishan couldn’t help but notice the way Aryan’s eyes lingered on him for just a second too long before quickly looking away.

Was it his imagination, or did Aryan seem... different? A little quieter, a little more thoughtful, as if he were holding something back?

But Ishan brushed the thought aside. He was probably overthinking it. After all, Aryan had just laughed off the idea of anything romantic between them.

"No homo", he’d said. Case closed.

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