Young, stupid, impatient

Vadim couldn't stand the subway. Dirty, smelly. One time he accidentally sat on a hobo who had fallen asleep by the bench. The guy obviously didn't have a subway pass. He rarely and reluctantly left his neighborhood. After exchanging two cigarettes for a metro token from a cheerful Kazakh man sitting at the entrance, Vadim swiftly stomped to the turnstile. It was late, the subway would close soon, and the guards, yawning tiredly, did not notice the mysteriously protruding object on the young man's hip. Fortune really smiled on him: the cheap abibas he got from Ozon was on edge. A little more and the pant leg will be torn in half. "Va-a-a-a-adi-i-i-i-im!!" Vadim adored that voice, "Next time my skeleton will meet you, got it?" The man of his heart was waiting for Vadim downstairs. Yarik was a unique shot. His hair would have been dyed eighteen colors and stuck out in different directions due to the cheapness of the dye. It was almost impossible to comb them (but Vadim loved to play with them). There were hairpins and pendants on the icicle-like strands (many of which were gifted by Vadim), which made Yarik look like a festive Christmas tree. The sun kissed his face with large freckles (Vadim was very jealous and kissed each one at least three times). Yarik had no fewer punctures: the wing of his nose (Vadim liked to kiss that spot), his left eyebrow (and here), the bridge of his nose (here too), ears, five on the right and seven in the left (twelve additional places for Vadim's lips), upper lip (the second favorite place for kisses! And the first one was..), the center of the tongue. Yarik, dressed in his favorite striped-purple outfit with a print of some Japanese rock band, the name of which Vadim had learned since the twelfth time, jumped and waved his arms, portraying his colossal, burning discontent with his completely non-threatening appearance. In the jump, he fell into Vadim's strong arms and, after protesting and acting up a little more, gave up and hugged his boyfriend back. Due to the height difference, Yarik literally hung off Vadim. It was about fifteen centimeters to the floor, and Yarik waved his legs so that Vadim would lower him, but the young man had other plans. Picking up the squeaking Yarik more comfortably, Vadim carried him into the last carriage of the noisy arriving train, pressed him against the opposite door and began to kiss Yarik's freckles. He giggled and kicked, trying to tickle Vadim back, but to no avail: this two-meter-tall giant was not immune to tickling. "It's written: "Don't press against the door"... What is not clear to you ... " A tired worker from the factory brought the guys back from heaven to earth and immediately fell back to sleep. Laughing, the boys sat down in the middle of the carriage. There was no one else in the carriage except them, a sleepy hard worker and a mysterious granny? who was nodding approvingly. Yarik began to talk about his trip to Tver. His mom lives there, and he visited her last weekend. Vadim tried to listen, really, but it was difficult... "Why so gloomy, Vadim? "Interrupting his story, Yarik lightly flicked his boyfriend on the nose, "Don't stare, pervert, I'm only twenty-four. Heh-heh-heh~ "It's hard to look at lips that I can't kiss... " Vadim sighed sadly, stroking the hump on his nose with his finger, the place of Yarik's attack. "When we get there, you can even take a bite, if you like," Yarik giggled, "What's wrong with your fingers?" Frowning with displeasure, he took Vadim's palm in his own, "Well, all scratches and scrapers, ts!" Yarik reached into his bottomless bag, which he took off only when he went to bed or went to the shower. Quickly fishing out a collection of colorful patches, he began to cover the wounds on Vadim's long fingers, "Who exploited you today: Uncle Vanya or Uncle Otabek?" "Uncle Kolya," Vadim muttered, melting with tenderness, "I busted my hump in his garage for three hours and still didn't finish anything." Decorating Vadim's pale palms with bandages with dogs, soccer balls and cars, Yarik kissed each one and smiled like the sun. Deciding that this was a direct mockery, Vadim locked the freckled face in his hands and kissed the guy like he had never kissed before. "Wait a minute, wait a minute!!" Yarik jokingly fought back, laughing; the pendants in his hair rang with every movement, "We didn't get there yet-and-and…" Vadim kept kissing him. More, more, more, more, more. Brusquely and everywhere. Yarik was choking with laughter; he fidgeted, trying to get out of Vadim's arms. At one point, I had to resort to a secret weapon. Yarik, grabbing the leg of Vadim's abibas, tore it. Beneath the cheap synthetic fabric was a toy pistol on a garter belt. Grabbing an imaginary weapon, Yarik pointed it at Vadim, and he raised his hands as if he were being arrested. "You are under arrest for ultra cute displays of affection in the wrong place! Wait until you arrive at the rendezvous point, otherwise you will not be treated to shawarma." They missed their station. Twice. Vadim was known in his circles for his elephant-like patience, however, none of his "brothers" and "uncles" knew about the falsity of this stereotype.

Fin.