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Despite the biting cold outside, the sun is finally shining in Snezhnaya. Its rays illuminate the snowdrifts, and the snow-white snow looks like a sparkling blanket.
Mitya has no important plans for the day, so he ties his shoelaces a little tighter and dashes outside, enjoying the warming rays of sunlight. Surprisingly, Alyosha is free too, which, of course, happens very rarely; Mitya can disappear into the library or lab for weeks at a time, while Alyosha gets completely worn out by his numerous training sessions. That’s exactly why they can’t pass up the chance to spend time together.
Mitya heads straight to the park, where they agreed to meet. It’s a small, cozy spot that almost no one ever visits.
Alyosha… he held a special place in Mitya’s mind.
Sometimes, before falling asleep, Mitya would sift through a jumble of memories and linger a little longer on his thoughts of Alyosha. He was a person who kept his distance from others—one might even say he was withdrawn—serious, responsible, and diligent. But when he was with Mitya, he would push himself to be softer and more cheerful, even though Mitya could see how hard it was for him to show that side of his personality.
Alyosha was attentive and caring. Once, when Mitya fell ill and couldn’t make it to their meeting, Alyosha came to his house with tea and varenye in a thermos, and sat beside him for a long time, trying to cheer him up.
Of course, Mitya tried to look out for Alyosha in return. For example, he helped him clean his weapons, and when Alyosha saw how carefully Mitya treated his things, Mitya could have sworn that Alyosha’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly.
Every time Mitya thinks of Alyosha, his heart races. And even now, as he approaches the park, he feels his heartbeat falter slightly. It shouldn’t be like this. They just wanted to go for a walk.
But the moment Mitya spots a familiar figure, a smile lights up his face all on its own. Alyosha sees him too and waves.
“Hi,” Mitya says softly.
“Hi,” Alyosha replies, clutching his bag a little tighter.
They smile and remain silent for a while, lost in each other’s eyes. Alyosha blinks to clear the fog from his head.
They start walking deeper into the park; with such beautiful weather, the streets are crowded, but where Mitya and Alyosha have gone, they can count people on the fingers of one hand.
“So, what new things did you learn this week?” Alyosha asks as they brush the snow off the bench and sit down. They’re so close that their shoulders are almost touching.
“Oh, not that many. But I really liked the Belousov–Zhabotinsky reaction.”
“What’s that?”
Mitya’s eyes light up.
“This is one of reactions that serve as a classical example of non-equilibrium thermodynamics. Instead of steadily moving towards a single equilibrium state, that chemical reaction oscillates back and forth between two such states… Um… Sorry, perhaps you don’t understand.”
Alyosha smiles.
“Well, frankly speaking, I don’t.”
“Let’s just say that this model is a cellular automaton that produces spiral waves. The liquid changes color, and some really beautiful spirals form. And they… you know… undulate. I think it’s a mesmerizing reaction. It’s very unusual.”
“It’s almost as if it’s alive, isn’t it?”
“Exactly!”
“You’re so clever, Mitya,” Alyosha says, “you know chemistry so well.”
“Uh…”
Mitya looks away and instinctively clutches his scarf, feeling his cheeks burn. He’s terribly embarrassed.
“I guess… thanks for the compliment,” he mumbles.
“It’s just a fact,” Alyosha smiles.
They continue talking about past days. Alyosha talks about how his last training session went. He talks about how much is demanded of him and how he sometimes feels discouraged. Mitya really appreciates that Alyosha is opening up to him. So he listens carefully, looks him straight in the eye, and nods.
“Sometimes I don’t even have time to eat. Not even a couple of minutes to spare. There just isn’t any. And still, I have to train until the sun goes down…”
“You’re very responsible,” says Mitya. “And strong. I really admire you. I could never in my life go so long without
eating—and on top of that, train on an empty stomach!”
Alyosha smiles. He stares at Mitya for a long time, and his gaze falls on Mitya’s lips. Mitya notices this and blushes. His heart begins to beat faster.
“Can I kiss you?” Alyosha whispers, hesitantly leaning toward Mitya and feeling his warm, ragged breath on his skin. Mitya looks at him in surprise, not knowing how to respond to such a question. He’s extremely embarrassed. His hands start to shake. The boy he’s been unable to get out of his head for so long is asking if he can kiss him! Mitya must be dreaming. He swallows hard and nods, closes his eyes, and grips Alyosha’s coat tightly. His eyelashes tremble slightly, and Alyosha licks his lips, spellbound by the sight before him.
“P-please,” Mitya replies just as quietly.
Alyosha smiles softly, then closes the distance between them and gently touches Mitya’s dry lips with his own. Their kiss is slow, cautious, and so innocent and clumsy it makes his chest ache.
Alyosha kisses him again and again, brushing the corner of Mitya’s lips, tracing the line of his chin, and leaving a kiss on his cheek. Mitya’s eyes are closed, and he pulls Alyosha closer to him. His cheeks are flushed with embarrassment, but he accepts the kisses and trembles almost imperceptibly. Alyosha hugs him tighter, running his hand up and down his back and burying his forehead in Mitya’s neck, hiding his flushed face. He can still feel Mitya’s ghostly lips on his own and sighs dreamily, savoring the other’s scent and feeling, even through his clothes, how hard Mitya’s heart is pounding. Alyosha’s own heart is pounding just as hard.
Mitya loosens his grip on Alyosha’s coat and instead wraps his arms around his waist, his lips brushing the top of his head. He feels like he’s on cloud nine; millions of butterflies are fluttering in his stomach. It’s driving him crazy. Alyosha is driving him crazy. They remain silent, and eventually both their hearts settle down.
“I really like you a lot,” Alyosha whispers again, and as he speaks, his lips brush against Mitya’s neck.
Mitya trembles.
“I like you, too,” he says shyly. “I really like you.”
Alyosha pulls away from his neck, and their eyes meet. Alyosha’s gaze shines as if he had two little suns instead of eyes. Mitya’s gaze is slightly misty, and the glistening snow is reflected in it. Alyosha smiles, and Mitya smiles back at him. Tiny snowflakes keep falling onto Mitya’s hair, making it look as if he’d dipped it in glitter. Alyosha can’t take his eyes off him and reaches out, gently tucking a strand of light-colored hair behind his ear.
“I want to try something,” Alyosha blurts out, and his gaze involuntarily falls on Mitya’s lips again. Luckily for him, Mitya does the same.
“Okay,” Mitya whispers.
It’s unclear who kisses first. Mitya lets out a soft moan, burying his fingers in Alyosha’s hair and pulling gently. Alyosha wraps his arms around Mitya’s neck and moves as close as possible. The silence around them is broken only by the soft sound of their kisses.
Alyosha runs his tongue along Mitya’s lip, as if asking for permission. Mitya’s cheeks seem to start burning even more, and he feels something hot spreading across his chest.
Mitya opens his mouth slightly, and the moment Alyosha’s tongue touches his, he realizes that this is exactly what Alyosha wanted to try. The sensation of another’s tongue in his mouth is electrifying, and his eyelashes tremble. Mitya pulls Alyosha’s hair harder, and Alyosha exhales, teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. He kisses Mitya deeper, tasting blueberry cheesecake, and his mind goes blank. They both lose themselves in each other. As soon as Alyosha pulls away to breathe, Mitya leans forward and captures his lips with his own once more. Alyosha moans softly, and a slight vibration ripples through Mitya’s entire body. Fireworks explode in his head. Alyosha is warm, soft, tender, and very, very pleasant to taste. He tastes just like toffee, and Mitya bites his lip.
“Mmh,” Mitya opens his eyes slightly and runs his tongue over the spot he’d just bitten. “You taste like toffee,” he says contentedly and kisses Alyosha again, but this time more gently. He feels Alyosha’s arms holding him tighter.
“I can’t stop kissing you,” Alyosha admits, looking at Mitya with a hazy gaze.
Mitya smiles softly and lets his eyes wander over Alyosha’s face, flushed from the cold and passion. Who would’ve thought, Mitya thinks to himself, that such a handsome guy would want to kiss him.
The snow gradually picks up, and they have to stand up, holding onto each other. Mitya giggles quietly, while Alyosha’s cheeks suddenly flush with embarrassment, and he tightens his grip on the other boy’s waist to find somewhere to put his hands. They really did kiss. And it was very tender and pleasant. The realization makes Alyosha’s head spin, and he smiles like a fool.
“Do you want to come over to my place?” Mitya asks, looking into Alyosha’s eyes. His eyelashes glistened with snow.
“If… if your father doesn’t mind,” Alyosha says, feeling Mitya tentatively touch his hand, then take it in his own, intertwining their fingers.
“Of course he doesn’t mind,” Mitya smiles. We’re holding hands, a voice in his head shouts. “Also, I can show you the Belousov–Zhabotinsky reaction.”
Alyosha nods.
“Okay,” he replies.
They quicken their pace because the snowflakes are getting bigger and bigger, blanketing the streets with a snow-white veil.
“By the way…” Alyosha looks at Mitya, catches his gaze, reaches up to his chin, and plants a quick kiss on his cheek. “You taste like blueberry cheesecake.”
Mitya’s lips twitch, and he squeezes Alyosha’s hand tighter, feeling a honey-sweet adoration spread through his chest.