Never to forget...

Never to forget...

Through David's Eyes

So much there was, that memory, like a tight sack,

Filled with tears, laughter, and wine.

And suddenly you're left in a hollow silence,

The door closed, and what comes after?

I walked past our school again. I graduated, but how much was connected to it—the bad and the good… The first cigarette, the thousandth call to my parents… But it all ended with the final bell that deafened me. I remembered the happy faces of my classmates, remembered the last kisses from the girls, tasting of the smoke from nervously smoked cigarettes and sad tears. I still

remembered all of it, but to meet any of them…

And today, another final bell rang for the current graduates. They were coming out of the school doors, the girls—teary-eyed, the guys—comforting them and laughing sadly. I smiled sadly, looking at the girls' lush bows and the guys' black suits. I approached one group, patted a guy on the shoulder.

— Hey, who was your homeroom teacher?

— Frau Stolze, — a small, fragile girl looked at me with tear-filled eyes. The guy was holding her shoulders tightly, and it was clear he didn't want to part with her because he loved her madly. "Loves…" — I thought bitterly. — "And I still remember my love…" I smiled at the guy.

— Mine was Frau Zellin.

— Really? — the guy opened his eyes wide in shock. — They say she's very strict.

— Well… Don't speak ill of my favorite teacher! — I laughed. — She's actually really cool!

— David Bonk? — a slightly hoarse voice asked behind me. I turned and saw a short, plump woman looking at me with slightly reddened eyes. I went up to her and hugged her tightly.

— Frau Zellin! Are you still teaching?

— Only four years have passed, and you're already hinting at retirement! Aren't you ashamed?! — the woman laughed.

When things are bad or sad,

And suddenly it feels terribly empty,

Your friends will save you, you know.

And everything will become simple and bright,

You'll get drunk on the wild wind,

Everything will be as you dream…

— Frau… I should probably go… I have a long way home…

— And do you live far? — my former homeroom teacher smiled, seeing me to the hallway. I ruffled my hair and, with a crooked smile, stuck my tongue out a little:

— No, not really…

— You were a little liar then, and you still are! — Frau Zellin sighed, smiling happily.

— I'll come see you again, — I grinned, hugging the teacher, perfectly aware that I was lying. Once again. "You were a liar then, and you still are…"

— Goodbye!

The dark street was lit by many streetlights. I walked past shop windows, looking at the faces of the partying graduates. I remembered perfectly how we spent that last day with my former class. We went to the embankment and drank wine, spilling it and kissing everyone. Sang songs and read poems. Thanked our beloved homeroom teacher for the whole city to hear, screaming as if we were being slaughtered. We only returned in the morning—drunk, wet, and happily-sad…

I was about to join a group of graduates who were calling me over when I suddenly noticed a familiar tall silhouette. Shaggy hair, the eternal guitar on his back, that innocent look and crooked smirk.

— Linke? — I asked quietly, not believing my eyes. Spotting the tattoo on his neck, I jumped for joy.

— KRIS! LINKEE!!! — I quickly ran towards the guy.

— BONK??? DAAAAVIIID!!! — Linke turned to me. Caught me mid-run and buried his face in my hair, inhaling its scent. I frantically ran my hands over his shoulders, not believing I'd met him again.

— Linke!!! I wanted to see you so much! — I whispered, smiling from ear to ear. Linke grinned and whispered in my ear:

— Do you still love me?

— Yes… — I answered without thinking. Linke sighed happily.

— That's good. Me too!

— Where to now? Get drunk like before?

— That's a super idea! Even better, let's go get drunk with them! — and Linke waved his hand towards the graduates watching us and still calling us over. I grabbed Linke's hand and, not watching for cars, ran towards the graduates.

You remember, of course you remember,

Your first love and your first glass.

It was cool, and then you broke up,

And the notebook of poems tore in half.

— Linke! Linke, do you remember how… — I asked breathlessly, waving a bottle of wine. We had been sitting in Linke's apartment for a long time. Outside the window, a drunken dawn was blooming, spreading in fiery colors.

— I remember everything, everything, everything perfectly! — Linke smiled back at me, hugging me around the waist with one arm. I put my palm to his mouth.

— No! Remember when you fell in love with me! — and I smiled, taking a swig from the bottle. Linke leaned back against the wall, reaching for the wine.

— Well… Ah! I remember! Back then, at one of our school drinking parties? When we kissed for the first time?

I nodded.

— I don't know why, but I fell in love with you when you were drunk! You were so cute…

— Ohhh… And I'm sooo druuunk now… — I snorted, pressing against Linke. Our eyes met, and a minute later our lips met too. Linke groaned softly and hugged me with one arm. I pulled away, looking drunkenly into his eyes.

— And so cute… — Linke whispered, smiling slightly.

— How cool it was back then! — I smiled sadly, squeezing the neck of the bottle with my hand.

— Yeah… And remember, I was collecting songs back then?

— Of course, I remember! You were always running around with that notebook, your guitar, cigarettes…

— Yeah… Three things worried me then… My school songbook of the songs we sang, my guitar, and how to get out of school to smoke… — Linke snorted.

— What happened to your notebook, by the way? — I perked up, — I've already forgotten half of our songs…

— It tore. And so neatly… — Linke showed how neatly the songbook tore, — …in half.

— Yeah… Strange…

Our summer in stairwells, moms and dads away,

Apartments in the hands of savages.

We smoked in beds and laughed like children—

I don't remember anything more fun!

I shifted my head on Linke's shoulder. My hand restlessly ran through my hair, my gaze slid from the clock to the scattered things, wine bottles, packs of cigarettes…

— Why are you worried? — Linke's voice suddenly asked right by my ear. I shuddered and suddenly realized that school time was long gone.

— I think I've gone back four years again. I keep worrying that your parents might come and see us—drunk, naked, and high…

— Yeah… Memories are a powerful thing. How we used to go wild together…

— Yeah, right… Just remember how we made love in the bathroom… — I rolled my eyes, running my fingers over Linke's thigh.

— Or that time, on the bus… Remember?

— Of course, I remember! Want to do it again?

— Nah… I'm too old for such things! — Linke laughed with a creaky voice. I laughed with him, trying to imitate the same creaky voice:

— And am I, like, crumbling into sand then? I'm older than you…

— Only by a year! — Linke said reproachfully in his normal

voice. I reached for the table, feeling for cigarettes. Sat up on the bed, reaching for my shirt.

— Where are you going? — Linke asked, grabbing my arm.

— To smoke! You're the one who got me hooked on these damn cigarettes! — I showed a pack of Winston light.

— Let's do it just like then! — he pulled me back and hovered over me, groping for the ashtray on the floor. I took out two cigarettes. The lighter clicked. A couple of seconds later, the smell of tobacco spread through the room.

Linke took a drag and pressed against my lips. Inhaled tobacco smoke into my mouth, sharing it with a kiss. I inhaled the smoke, responding.

Linke pulled away and, propping his head on his hand, looked at me. I looked into his eyes and suddenly started laughing. Lightly and carefree.

— Daviiid… — Linke groaned, starting to laugh too. Dropped his head on the pillow, shaking with laughter. Took a drag, coughed, but laughter still broke through the cough. I patted his chest, taking a drag and also shaking with silent laughter.

— I love you, David… — Linke whispered quietly.

— Me too, Linke… And I'll never forget what was between us…

Through Linke's Eyes

You know, I could never forget you. Your black hair scattered on the pillow. Your steady breathing in your sleep—I always listened to it when I slept on your shoulder. Your soft pink lips, from which quiet hissing breaths escaped. David, I couldn't forget that. Never.

I could never forget our first kiss—awkward, silly. By chance, at our school party, when everyone was drunk and already out of their minds, I just pressed my lips to yours. Just to see what it was like—to kiss a guy. And, strangely enough, you kissed me back… I remember the salty sweat on your lips tasting of cherry. I felt it, I tasted it. Yes, silly. But it was our very first kiss. I can't forget it. Never.

I can never forget our first sex—passionate, burning, tender. And it all happened on a bus, in the toilet. We thought if our friends found out, they'd stop talking to us. But they… Just chuckled a little mockingly and advised us to express our feelings less zealously.

Remember, I covered your hand with mine then? You looked at me intently and, twisting your hand, locked our fingers together. Your gray eyes pierced my heart through and through. That was cooler than Cupid's arrows! You blushed a little, and the corner of your mouth lifted in a smile. It struck me so much that I timidly touched that smiling corner with my lips. Then pulled away, and you tangled your hand in my hair and kissed me. First very gently, learning, tasting, then passionately, pressing my head to you with all your strength. A moment—and I was sitting on your lap, hugging your neck. And you kissed me like a madman, pulling away slightly to catch your breath. Stroked my back, my legs, slipped under my t-shirt and with an innocent movement ran your fingertips over my lower back, drawing quiet sighs from my chest.

— Linke, I'm just going to fuck you right here in front of everyone! — you whispered in my ear when my hand slid over your flat stomach. I shook my head and whispered to you:

— In a minute, follow me to the toilet.

After which I got up and, swaying slightly from the euphoria of the kisses filling me, went to the back of the bus.

"Damn, if we get caught!…" — I thought in panic, closing the door behind me. A minute later, there was a knock. I opened the door and pulled you in with a kiss. You groaned softly and pressed me against the wall, wrapping your arms around me with all your might. Kissed my neck, sucking the tattooed skin through your teeth. Started tearing off my t-shirt.

— Davi… — I whispered impulsively, unable to bear all these crazy movements. You looked at me with a dazed gaze. Then you plunged into my lips, fiercely pushing your tongue through. I started unbuttoning your jeans. You unbuttoned mine. Wow, you managed faster… You stroked my cock—I groaned loudly into your mouth, clutching your shoulders like a madman.

— Fuck, Linke! — you hissed, laughing. — Moan quieter!

I laughed, but quietly, and you lightly bit my earlobe.

You pulled my jeans and boxers down to my knees and hesitated.

— Uh… Linke…

— In the pocket, — I whispered, looking at the low ceiling.

— Where? — your amazement knew no bounds. I looked at you irritably and hissed:

— Yes, I agree, agree, damn it! Agree! Now finish what you started!

You smiled and pulled a tube of lube from the pocket of my jeans. I could have said something else snarky, but you, as if understanding, shut me up with a kiss. The bus jolted—I hit my head against the wall, and you—your teeth against mine. But because of all that, I didn't feel you starting to stretch me, already with two fingers. A couple of seconds later, a third joined them, and they touched my prostate. I arched towards you, impaling myself harder on your fingers. My vision started to blur. Pulling out your fingers, you entered me… I don't know what words to use to describe the feeling… I bit my lip.

The bus jolted again. I don't know what bumps we were driving over! From that jolt, you went all the way in. A low, rasping groan escaped my throat. You hissed and kissed me again, using your tongue like a gag.

A jolt. I braced my hands against the walls and threw my head back. Your fingers dug into my thighs, leaving bruises. You moved inside me like a hundred-horsepower piston, breathing hoarsely into my neck. I moaned nonstop, and you no longer gagged me but just increased the pace, getting more turned on by those cries.

The world exploded suddenly. And immediately into a thousand pieces. You came, I came… The ceiling and floor swapped places and time stopped… The only thing I remember—you, all wet and hot, convulsively pressing me to you; and me, shuddering from your last sharp movements inside me…

You helped wipe the cum off my stomach and get dressed.

But the funniest part was later! Remember, we just opened the door, and Timo was there, innocently looking out the window. You instantly blushed—you blushed way too much in general! Timo turned his head to us and snorted:

— Oh! Finally, lovebirds!

— Did you hear something? — I asked in a trembling voice. Timo guffawed:

— No, I didn't