The illusion of Normal

Morning came, but for Ishan, it brought no warmth, it just carried an unsettling emptiness.

Lying in bed, he replayed last night’s conversation with Aryan—the moment Aryan had shown him to his own separate room, smiling as he said,

"Now you can finally have some peace and quiet."

Ishan had nodded, pretending to be grateful, pretending that this was exactly what he wanted.

But throughout the night, an odd loneliness had crept in, wrapping around him like a blanket too heavy to shake off. He wasn’t sure what he was missing, who he was missing, but the feeling lingered, stubborn and unshakable.

His thoughts were abruptly shattered by the shrill, relentless ringing of his alarm clock. With an irritated groan, he smacked it off the nightstand, sending it clattering to the floor.

Not that it mattered, he’d been awake for hours, unable to sleep in this unfamiliar silence.

Morning brought another discomfort, one he hadn't expected: his own clothes.

He had thought slipping back into his usual jeans and t-shirt would feel like coming home. Instead, it felt wrong.

The fabric felt too light, too plain, as if something was missing. His hands instinctively brushed over his bare wrists, where bangles no longer jingled.

His ears felt strangely light without the weight of jhumkas. And without the familiar presence of the saree, the pleats swishing as he walked, he felt… naked.

Shaking his head, he tried to push the thought away.

Ishan stepped out of his room, his leather sandals clicking against the floor—so different from the satisfying tap of his favorite red heels.

The moment he looked up, he found Aryan staring at him, brows slightly raised. Already feeling awkward in his old clothes, Ishan scowled.

"What are you looking at?!" he snapped, crossing his arms.

Aryan smirked. "Dude, you forgot the sindoor on your head." He bursted into laughter, pointing at Ishan's forehead.

Panicked, Ishan whipped out his phone, switching to the front camera. His eyes widened in horror.

"Oh my god. I’m a complete idiot," he groaned, facepalming so hard his hand nearly slid off his face.

"How could I do something so stupid?!" He had applied the sindoor purely out of habit. The realization sent him into an existential crisis.

"Wait, I need to wash my hair, give me ten minutes!" He spun on his heel, ready to sprint back to his room, but Aryan’s voice cut him off.

"We’re already late for the opera!" Aryan called out. "Just grab a cap from the drawer."

"But what if someone sees?", Ishan hesitated. " A guy wearing sindoor on his head—I mean, how weird would that look?"

"To be honest?", Aryan leaned back, arms crossed. " You still look like a flat-chested girl wearing her husband’s clothes."

Ishan gasped. "Excuse me?!"

"I got your clothes in the same size as your old ones,", Aryan shrugged "but somehow, they still look like they’re hanging on a clothes hanger."

Ishan glanced down at himself, finally noticing how his oversized t-shirt draped awkwardly over his frame.

"I never noticed!", Ishan said in a cheery voice, " Did I really lose some weight"

"You are thin as a matchstick", Aryan narrowed his eyes. "But Why are you smiling?"

"Nothing," Ishan lied, trying to suppress the small, traitorous flutter of amusement in his chest. "Just happy to be back in my own clothes."

Then, to cover up any suspicion, he added with a forced laugh, "Do you have any idea how hard it is to carry almost a kilo of weight on your chest every day?"

"I don’t… and I don’t want to," Aryan replied, chuckling. "But good to see you making jokes again. Thought you were taking the ‘wife’ thing a little too seriously."

"Yeah, yeah. Aren’t we running late? ", Ishan rolled his eyes. "Let’s go, dickhead."

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The opera was unlike anything Ishan had ever experienced. The moment they stepped into the grand theater, he felt like he had walked into another world.

Their VVIP box had plush velvet seats, a perfect view of the stage, and a certain air of exclusivity that made Ishan feel way more important than he actually was.

As the performance began, he found himself completely captivated—dramatic arias, soaring melodies, and emotions so raw they seeped into his bones. He was mesmerized.

And then, to his absolute horror, he started tearing up.

"Are you seriously crying?" Aryan muttered, side-eyeing him.

"Shut up," Ishan sniffled, blinking rapidly.

With an exaggerated sigh, Aryan pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to him. Ishan snatched it without a word, dabbing at his eyes as discreetly as possible.

Just as he thought he was in the clear, he noticed an elderly couple in the neighboring box watching them with amused smiles, whispering to each other. Aryan caught them too, his jaw tightening slightly in annoyance.

But instead of snapping, he simply adjusted in his seat and turned his attention back to the stage, ignoring them. Ishan oblivious to everything just focused on wiping his tears and running nose.

The car ride was tense. Aryan sat stiffly in his seat, arms crossed, his jaw clenched tight as the driver navigated the quiet streets. Ishan, still clutching the handkerchief, sniffled softly every few seconds. The sound was grating. Finally, Aryan exhaled sharply, his patience snapping.

“I still don’t get it,” he muttered.

“Get what?” Ishan asked, voice thick with leftover emotion.

Aryan turned his head, staring at him like he’d grown two heads. “Why the fuck were you crying?”

Ishan blinked. “Because it was beautiful.”

Aryan scoffed. “You don’t even speak Italian.”

“I felt it,” Ishan defended, straightening in his seat.

Aryan let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “You act like they personally got on stage and dumped you in front of everyone.”

“They might as well have.”

Aryan groaned, rubbing his temple. “You’re so fucking dramatic.”

Ishan simply huffed, turning to stare out of the window. The rest of the ride was silent, except for the occasional sniffle—each one making Aryan’s eye twitch as he forced himself to ignore it.

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Hi readers, I know you are all waiting for the intimate scenes. I promise you by the end of 3-4 chapters.. Ishan will have Aryan's rod inside him but I don't want to make it a meaningless sex and ruin their character arc.

They are seemingly straight guys who are afraid of their own feelings. They first need to accept it....

And I am speeding it up as fast as possible.. I will post another chapter today if this chapter gets some good response....