It hasn’t actually been illegal to be gay in Russia for more than 20 years. Sure, there’s prejudice, but the actual law–for “propagating homosexual propaganda”–is punishable for Russian citizens by a fine that looks like absolute peanuts to some with an NHL salary.
So what I’m saying is that to the contrary of the fannish convention that if Tater comes out, he can never go home, I’m thinking:
Alexei Mashkov creates a small sensation (and a flashmob) on his honeymoon by strolling through the park with his new husband in Kitay-gorod in downtown Moscow. It is, coincidentally, an incredibly popular gay cruising site. They tangle their fingers together as they walk.
“We wanted to enjoy the beautiful day,” he says to a freelance journalist holding a video camera. He reels his husband in by the back of his jeans as Kent gets carried away in flirting with fans and signing autographs. “We’re just two private citizens enjoying a walk in the park.”
Then he puts a long arm around his husband’s waist and pulls him away from their new friends, waving affably, and walks less than a kilometre to the Red Square so they can get a nice selfie together with the Kremlin in the background to post to Instagram.
Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, and he is the smuggest man in all of Russia.