JuliusSpeak

Ruslan smiles relaxedly and hugs the old, dusty, tattered guitar even tighter. He runs his hard fingertips over the out-of-tune strings, like a child tilting his head to the side and muttering under his breath that he needs to tune his favorite guitar. Yulik looks at him and immediately frowns, tucking his legs under himself and wrapping himself in an old hoodie to keep warm.

• How are you going to play on this junk?

Tushencov casts a naive and cheerful glance at him, shrugs his shoulders and smiles again. A kind and crooked smile, albeit from the colored pills that Ruslan always carries in the pocket of his holey skinny jeans.

Ruslan and Yulik are literally from different universes and planets, one is clean, the other is not, but this does not stop Oneshko from truly loving such Ruslan, he wants him to stop using all sorts of crap, but he has already come to terms with it. And now he reaches into the bag of pills with icy fingers and takes one, puts it on his tongue, and with his hands grabs Yulik by the hoodie and kisses him, pushing the pill into his mouth.

Rusliks, damn it