I should actually work on my longer stories, but no, of course I'm doing stupid one-shots, just because I feel like it. So all you need to know: It's slash, these are musings of Drake, and I don't own Drake and Josh.
Drake walked though the street and waved to the group of girls that seemed fairly recognizable. He wondered if he kissed any of them. Being him he probably did, but couldn't really remember.
And he kind of couldn't help it. He loved kissing, really loved it, but it was a short pleasure. So he kissed more and more girls to the point where he couldn't count how many has it been. He didn't even remember his first kiss, for goddess sake!
Then why? He knew you could not remember the flavor of the kiss. It was just like chocolate, you can't imagine the taste.
Then why it seemed to still linger on his mouth? Those plump lips, met his. He still remembered the electricy that went though him. Or he just added that image after that. Human memory likes to fuck things up.
He was sick. He knew his brother did that only from excitement, with no real desire.
He spotted a beautiful girl and followed her to the pub. Maybe she will be the one that will give him 'unforgettable kiss'. He just hoped someone, anyone could make him forget the former one.
I know it's a pain to comment such a short story, but be nice and do that anyway.
