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Sid’s been in Russia for three months before Geno’s able to drag him off the ice and out of the house and into the crowded city streets.
“New Years,” Geno yells, accent so thick Sid can barely understand him.
At this point it might be easier for him to just speak Russian. Sid’s picked up on quite a few words and he’d have better luck deciphering them than the jumble of English Geno’s been giving him all night.
He’s been trailing behind Geno for hours now, the streets getting dark and crowded as they wind their way around the city.
Sid follows him happily albeit blindly.
He’s laughed and drank and eaten more mayonnaise heavy salads with potatoes and carrots and peas and herring than he ever imagined he would.
“Is good,” Geno had said, holding the fork right in front of his mouth. He had his tongue between his front teeth and Sid had eyeballed the mixture.
“It has bologna in it,” he had said and Geno rolled his eyes.
“It’s good,” he had insisted. “Can’t live on McDonald’s and sweets my mama makes for the whole season.”
“I don’t just eat that,” he snapped and Geno raised an eyebrow and Sid knew he had lost.
It wasn’t as bad as Sid had been expecting and Geno’s satisfied smirk would have more than made up for it.
They washed down their meals with vodka, a lot of vodka and it’s the main reason Sid laughs as Geno stumbles on a loose brick, barely catching himself against a parked car.
Geno points a finger at him, his face flushed from his own laughter.
“Not funny,” he says. “What if I fall and break leg. No good to team then.”
Sid rolls his eyes and Geno slips into Russian.
“I’ll make you eat more if you’re not nice to me,” he warns and Sid sobers immediately.
“I’ll be good,” he says as he grabs Geno by the arm and pulls him upright. “I can’t handle any more pickled…..everything. You guys pickle everything.”
“Best way to do things, Sid. Everything best in Russia,” he says loudly and strangers cheer as they make their way towards the city square.
The fireworks should be starting any minute and Sid lets himself be dragged against Geno’s side to make room for families and couples and friends who are pouring into the area.
“Having fun,” Geno asks and Sid nods.
It’s nice here, politics and problems aside. He can see why Geno loves it so much. It goes beyond homeland pride and he can practically feel the energy rolling off Geno every time he steps onto the ice wearing Russian colors.
It’s really a miracle that they’re here together especially given the way that Geno left.
The first firework goes off and lights the sky bright gold.
It’s going to be hard for him to leave again once the lockout is over. He’s a star here. Everyone loves him. It’s more than Pittsburgh could ever offer him.
The sky is red and silver and blue.
They might not let him leave. It might be like the first time.
He might not want to leave.
The realization hits as the crowd oohs and ahhs.
There’s light reflecting across Geno’s face and Sid cannot leave this country without him.
Geno tips his chin down, eyes full of concern.
“Okay,” he asks with a tip of his head.
There’s another boom from an explosion and the crowd reacting and Geno smiles softly at him.
And Sid takes his hand.
The smile slides off Geno’s face as he glances around.
“Home,” he says in perfect English and Sid frowns.
“The fireworks. They just started.”
“Home,” he says again and breaks their hands apart.
-
Sid follows half a step behind with his hands jammed into his pockets.
Geno walks with swift determination, steady steps and sure movements as the party in the city square fades behind them.
-
Geno’s apartment is small and warm and the cake his mother had made for the is still on the counter.
He wants a giant piece. He wants to fall asleep on the twin sized bed Geno had squeezed into the room that was supposed to be an office even though he told him it was a guest room.
He wants to book a ticket for the both of them and and fly home now. They can watch the rest of the fireworks from the plane.
“Sid,” Geno starts. He leaning against the front door and he looks like he can’t catch his breath, never mind find the words he wants to say.
That’s fine. They’re all living on the tip of Sid’s tongue and slip right out.
“Are you going to leave me?”
Geno frowns at him.
“You could stay here, if you wanted to. Things are so….things are just different here. If you wanted to stay they would let you stay. They’d protect you.”
“Why you think I would do that?”
“You love it here. People love you here. This is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? This is…..” He trails off as his eyes sweep down across Geno’s body. He’ll miss him. “This is more than what Pittsburgh can give you.”
Geno makes a pained noise and pushes himself forward into Sid’s space.
Sid takes a step back and hits the wall. Geno’s right there to cradle the back of his head and then his jaw as he presses further in and brings their foreheads together.
“Always want you,” he whispers. His fingers press into his jaw. “Have everything I want here with you.”
“You could have more,” Sid says and Geno kisses him, lips soft yet persistent and Sid sinks into it.
“Everything,” Geno says with his thumb against the middle of his chin. “Can’t have this here with you. Can’t wait to go home with you. Always going to be with you. As soon as we can we go home-.”
Sid fists his hands in the back of Geno’s coat to get his attention. “This is your home.”
“It’s been you for a long time, Sid. Whole city, team, you.” Geno holds him closer for a moment before leaning back, letting his hands drag as he leans down the hall towards his room.
-
The fireworks are still going off in the distance.
Sid can hear the pop of the explosions and traces the color across Geno’s bare skin where it slips in between the cracks in his blinds.
Geno smiles down at him as Sid chases a golden flash across pale skin and Sid thinks home.