Chapter Text
Snow sat on Sergey’s face like freckles. The faded green of the park bench felt stiff beneath him as he waited for Roman. The spurting fountains, shadowed by detailed columns around Volkspark Friedrichshain spurred quietly. Trees laid bare, their spindly twigs like crooked fingers of a cruel witch poking the air. Sergey watched on as Berliners hurriedly paced through the rough conditions, chins tucked into their scarves and hands glued in their pockets, eager to escape the cold night.
Multiple men leaned against the marble columns towering over the fountains, clouds of ashy smoke from cigarettes making distinct patterns in the cool air. Sergey took note of one man wearing a grey beanie and what he could only describe as a tea-towel around his neck, Berlin fashion (if you could even call that fashion), idly staring off into the distance. The dirty blonde caught Sergey’s stare, daring to look back.
Blank stare fought hard against another, a relentless battle that left questions at the tip of the tongue, Sergey trying his best to solve through dull observations. The mysterious man took one last drag of his cigarette and inconspicuously shuffled over to him. A swaggered demeanour in his step as he approached. Sergey observed him with inquisitive eyes, watching as he sauntered sideways before tucking his nose into his chequered scarf while his hands were tangled in his khaki green raincoat. The peculiar-looking man seized the spot beside him. His legs were crossed, tighter than they needed to be as he drooled over Sergey like a piece of meat.
“Are you alright there?” He asked, stumbling through German pronouns.
Sergey never thought he had seen a German smile before that.
“I could be…”
Great, more mysterious phrases. *
Sergey bit the inside of his cheek, a habit he had developed in childhood when he felt himself losing himself in social situations. Unsure how to approach from this point, he stayed silent.
Perhaps his German needed some work, he thought.
The man’s head swivelled around, looked him up and down, cleared his throat and with a breathy whisper: “Your place or mine?”
He slid an arm over Sergey’s shoulder, acting innocent as he exhaled his smoke from the corner of his pale lips.
Sergey must have been out of the loop, he thought as he bit down hard on his cheek; make a decision, quick! Perhaps it was best to find another friend after the incident with Tanja.
“Uhm… mine?” He found himself staring at his hands, thumbs rubbing the back of his hands, clasped together.
The man shot up instantly, eyes boaring into Sergey’s soul.
And so Sergey led the way through the winding paths as if the whipping wind lead them home.
The white snow crunching under their boots as they moved in unsure silence.
Apartment door ‘39’ squeaked open with a shove. With coats chucked on the hanger, they made their way to the couch.
“Tea?”
This random man, whom Sergey had forgotten to ask the name of, bemusedly chuckled behind his hand.
“Sure, why not.”
Sergey pottered over to the kettle on the stovetop, whistling an old revolutionary tune, engraved into his brain after serving at the military base, next to fuzzy images of Roman naked in the river.
With the kettle in hand he turned on the cold tap.
“Is inviting yourself to other’s houses a German thing or…?” Water abruptly spurted out of the nozzle, speckling Sergey’s rosy cheeks.
“Mm?” The man mumbled, flicking his fly zipper.
He turned the tap off, turning the stovetop on while glancing over his shoulder.
“Ah, rude of me not to introduce myself. Sergey.”
“...” *Flick, flick flick.*
*Click*
Small blue flames danced across the hot metal, lapping at the kettles soot covered behind.
“And you?”
“Philipp”
Philipp’s eyes darted around the room, restless with a dash of agitation, he strode over to the kitchen. Arms swung up to pin Sergey against the fridge.
“How about we… change the subject…”
Suddenly the door shuttered open,
“Sergey? I thought we were going to meet at the park…” A distant voice falling into the kitchen
As Roman turned the corner he saw Philipp, hungry eyes, preying upon Sergey, fingers clutching at his shoulders.
“What the hell are you doing? Sergey!”
Roman ripped Philipp off him, brows crooked as he analysed the scruffy man before him, a smirk still plastered upon Philipp's face as if this was some joke to him.
Sergey's face crumpled as he met Roman, eyes closing in hopes of calming Roman.
“Nothing man, he’s the one inviting me in.” Roman’s jaw clenches as he glares at Sergey.
Sergey only started to catch up on what was going on here. Maybe Philipp came to his apartment for sex? Surely not, right?
“I thought you wanted me to interact more with the locals.” Sergey flittered his eyelashes.
“I didn’t think it meant compromising our relationship.”
“So this is what this is about. Roman I had no intention-”
“So how do you explain this!”
“I DON’T KNOW”
“…”
Noticing the air becoming tense, Philipp steps up between the two.
“If he wanted to sleep with me I don’t think he’d be making me tea at this time of night.”
Roman shook his head, sighing.
“Is this true?”
“Yes, Roman yes its true.”
Roman wrings his hands together, shoving Philipp aside to close the space between the two, fingers now reaching up to card through Sergey’s brown locks.
“Hey uh-” Philipp scratches the back of his neck. “If you wanted to meet more locals on the scene I could take you someplace later. If you want, of course.”
Roman and Sergey exchanged a look between another.
"Yes, we'd like that."