07-11-2025, 04:32 PM
Life-changing decisions
Nino still stares stubbornly out of the window at the now wet streets where Tom was walking just a few hours ago. The rain rolls down the window, leaving wet traces behind, drop by drop, as if the window were crying. If it were open, the room would be filled with the smell of fresh rain.
Water has formed on the streets and flows purposefully towards the gully. Occasionally a car passes, with wildly swinging windshield wipers and splashing up the rainwater. There are no people left on the streets; they wait until the downpour has subsided or at least lessened.
Less?
Nino's love for Tom has not diminished, and yet he has decided to take this step. Over and over again, he sees Tom's expression before him, even though he never wanted to hurt him. He wanted to protect him, because it is better for both of them.
Tom is twelve years younger than him, just seventeen years old and has half of life still ahead of him. He can still find a pretty woman, get married and have children.
His parents don't like Nino anyway, because they think he's the wrong crowd for Tom. It's all nonsense, Nino knows that too, so he suppresses the burgeoning pain and swallows back the tears. He doesn't want to cry now, he'd rather remember the last hours with Tom:
Tom came to Nino's house as he did every Saturday morning to have breakfast with him. He had lied to his parents that he had a girlfriend and always went to her. Nino knew that this was not right and so this day had to come.
They had a hearty breakfast as always, talked about everything under the sun and enjoyed each other's company. While they were clearing the kitchen table together afterwards, they started fooling around.
A plate fell to the floor and Nino said in a mock-serious tone, “You'll pay for that, you wait.”
Tom laughed out loud, his sky-blue eyes flashing and his small dimples coming to light.
“You're a bad actor,” he giggled.
Nino fixed his darling with his brown eyes and skillfully ran his hand through his dark hair.
“And here I was thinking that I looked like an actor,“ he said haughtily, running his other hand through his hair with splayed fingers for added effect.
Tom doubled over with laughter and held his stomach, which was already hurting.
“You're killing me,” he said, with tears welling up in his eyes.
Nino now went up to Tom and took him in his arms. He held him tight and stroked through his medium-length blonde hair before gently cupping his face in both hands.
They held direct eye contact and then a long, intense kiss followed. Slowly, Nino's hand wandered under Tom's shirt; he wanted to feel him one last time, to be close to him.
They stumbled out of the kitchen, through the hallway and landed in the bedroom, on the big bed. Their touches became more intense and their kisses hotter, and they already knew exactly how to best pamper the other.
Their wild romp was accompanied by loud, lustful moans, and they never kept to a low volume. They both climaxed almost simultaneously and then collapsed, panting.
Snuggled up close to each other, Nino felt Tom's heartbeat slowly return to normal. Close to his neck, Nino could feel Tom's breath, tasted his sweet sweat and inhaled his scent.
He wanted to hold him close one last time to remember it for as long as possible. Before Nino gently pushed Tom away, he said, “Please get dressed.”
“What? But why? I thought we were going to cuddle a little longer?” Tom replied, puzzled.
Please do as I say,? Nino begged his sweetheart, while he tried to make his voice sound as normal as possible.
Okay. But I still don't understand you. We can clean up the kitchen together later, can't we?, Tom said to Nino, while he
dressed.
“That's not what this is about,“ Nino tried to explain.
“Then what is it about?” Tom wanted to know.
“It's about us!“ Nino said.
“What do you mean?” Tom asked, perplexed.
“We should break up,“ Nino said, although the words were certainly not easy for him.
“WHAT?” Tom just managed to say.
Why?
Believe me, it's better for you, Nino explained his behavior.
You're still young and will quickly find a pretty woman and who knows, maybe you'll have many children.
But I don't want a woman. I want you! Tom sobbed, and Nino had to fight not to take his sweetheart in his arms.
“But your parents think differently about it,“ Nino said, as a last resort to address.
“I don't give a damn about my parents,” Tom swore, with tears running down his cheeks.
“Believe me, it's better this way,” Nino repeated and turned away from Tom.
He now went to the door and without saying another word, he put on his shoes and jacket. When he was standing in the doorframe, he stopped for a moment and looked back at Nino one last time.
“I?I will?will always?LOVE you!”, he stuttered, trying to get himself organized while sobbing.
Nino's heart broke at the sight and he wanted to take a step towards Tom, but he pulled himself together.
“One day you'll understand me,” he said.
Tom stroked his jacket sleeve across his face to dry his tears and then left without saying another word. Nino ran to the window, struggling with himself not to open it and just call Tom back up to his place.
He is still standing there, hasn't moved a muscle, the kitchen is still as it was and yet something is stirring in him.
A small tear has made its way through and is now rolling down his cheek. Nino is shaking, resisting, because he doesn't want to cry, doesn't want to show any weakness, after all, he was the bad guy in this story.
Just for a brief moment he lost sight of the road, a few seconds that were crucial, because suddenly the doorbell rings.
It will be the postman, who brings the letters as he does every Saturday and today has a package for Nino. Maybe even something to cheer him up, because that would be very useful right now.
Nino opens the door and rubs his eyes, as he can hardly believe who is standing in front of him. His gaze scrutinizes the petite figure from head to toe, which is heavily packed with a backpack and a large travel bag in front of him.
His clothes are drenched from the rain and his hair hangs over his face, where a red, swollen cheek nevertheless stands out. Nino can no longer hold back his tears, gives his feelings free rein and his hand slides carefully to his battered cheek.
He gently brushes away the strands of hair and before he knows it, the bags fall to the ground and two thin arms wrap around his neck.
“I'm so sorry, my darling,” Nino says to Tom, as they stand in the doorway, tightly embraced.
Nino still stares stubbornly out of the window at the now wet streets where Tom was walking just a few hours ago. The rain rolls down the window, leaving wet traces behind, drop by drop, as if the window were crying. If it were open, the room would be filled with the smell of fresh rain.
Water has formed on the streets and flows purposefully towards the gully. Occasionally a car passes, with wildly swinging windshield wipers and splashing up the rainwater. There are no people left on the streets; they wait until the downpour has subsided or at least lessened.
Less?
Nino's love for Tom has not diminished, and yet he has decided to take this step. Over and over again, he sees Tom's expression before him, even though he never wanted to hurt him. He wanted to protect him, because it is better for both of them.
Tom is twelve years younger than him, just seventeen years old and has half of life still ahead of him. He can still find a pretty woman, get married and have children.
His parents don't like Nino anyway, because they think he's the wrong crowd for Tom. It's all nonsense, Nino knows that too, so he suppresses the burgeoning pain and swallows back the tears. He doesn't want to cry now, he'd rather remember the last hours with Tom:
Tom came to Nino's house as he did every Saturday morning to have breakfast with him. He had lied to his parents that he had a girlfriend and always went to her. Nino knew that this was not right and so this day had to come.
They had a hearty breakfast as always, talked about everything under the sun and enjoyed each other's company. While they were clearing the kitchen table together afterwards, they started fooling around.
A plate fell to the floor and Nino said in a mock-serious tone, “You'll pay for that, you wait.”
Tom laughed out loud, his sky-blue eyes flashing and his small dimples coming to light.
“You're a bad actor,” he giggled.
Nino fixed his darling with his brown eyes and skillfully ran his hand through his dark hair.
“And here I was thinking that I looked like an actor,“ he said haughtily, running his other hand through his hair with splayed fingers for added effect.
Tom doubled over with laughter and held his stomach, which was already hurting.
“You're killing me,” he said, with tears welling up in his eyes.
Nino now went up to Tom and took him in his arms. He held him tight and stroked through his medium-length blonde hair before gently cupping his face in both hands.
They held direct eye contact and then a long, intense kiss followed. Slowly, Nino's hand wandered under Tom's shirt; he wanted to feel him one last time, to be close to him.
They stumbled out of the kitchen, through the hallway and landed in the bedroom, on the big bed. Their touches became more intense and their kisses hotter, and they already knew exactly how to best pamper the other.
Their wild romp was accompanied by loud, lustful moans, and they never kept to a low volume. They both climaxed almost simultaneously and then collapsed, panting.
Snuggled up close to each other, Nino felt Tom's heartbeat slowly return to normal. Close to his neck, Nino could feel Tom's breath, tasted his sweet sweat and inhaled his scent.
He wanted to hold him close one last time to remember it for as long as possible. Before Nino gently pushed Tom away, he said, “Please get dressed.”
“What? But why? I thought we were going to cuddle a little longer?” Tom replied, puzzled.
Please do as I say,? Nino begged his sweetheart, while he tried to make his voice sound as normal as possible.
Okay. But I still don't understand you. We can clean up the kitchen together later, can't we?, Tom said to Nino, while he
dressed.
“That's not what this is about,“ Nino tried to explain.
“Then what is it about?” Tom wanted to know.
“It's about us!“ Nino said.
“What do you mean?” Tom asked, perplexed.
“We should break up,“ Nino said, although the words were certainly not easy for him.
“WHAT?” Tom just managed to say.
Why?
Believe me, it's better for you, Nino explained his behavior.
You're still young and will quickly find a pretty woman and who knows, maybe you'll have many children.
But I don't want a woman. I want you! Tom sobbed, and Nino had to fight not to take his sweetheart in his arms.
“But your parents think differently about it,“ Nino said, as a last resort to address.
“I don't give a damn about my parents,” Tom swore, with tears running down his cheeks.
“Believe me, it's better this way,” Nino repeated and turned away from Tom.
He now went to the door and without saying another word, he put on his shoes and jacket. When he was standing in the doorframe, he stopped for a moment and looked back at Nino one last time.
“I?I will?will always?LOVE you!”, he stuttered, trying to get himself organized while sobbing.
Nino's heart broke at the sight and he wanted to take a step towards Tom, but he pulled himself together.
“One day you'll understand me,” he said.
Tom stroked his jacket sleeve across his face to dry his tears and then left without saying another word. Nino ran to the window, struggling with himself not to open it and just call Tom back up to his place.
He is still standing there, hasn't moved a muscle, the kitchen is still as it was and yet something is stirring in him.
A small tear has made its way through and is now rolling down his cheek. Nino is shaking, resisting, because he doesn't want to cry, doesn't want to show any weakness, after all, he was the bad guy in this story.
Just for a brief moment he lost sight of the road, a few seconds that were crucial, because suddenly the doorbell rings.
It will be the postman, who brings the letters as he does every Saturday and today has a package for Nino. Maybe even something to cheer him up, because that would be very useful right now.
Nino opens the door and rubs his eyes, as he can hardly believe who is standing in front of him. His gaze scrutinizes the petite figure from head to toe, which is heavily packed with a backpack and a large travel bag in front of him.
His clothes are drenched from the rain and his hair hangs over his face, where a red, swollen cheek nevertheless stands out. Nino can no longer hold back his tears, gives his feelings free rein and his hand slides carefully to his battered cheek.
He gently brushes away the strands of hair and before he knows it, the bags fall to the ground and two thin arms wrap around his neck.
“I'm so sorry, my darling,” Nino says to Tom, as they stand in the doorway, tightly embraced.