LIL THE NEEL and DK/Dkcest

Neil pulled the hood down over his red head, adjusting his sunglasses at the same time, repeating the same thought in his head: "I hope they don't recognize me..." Still, Neil thought that the USSR treated foreigners badly, although that wasn't a fact... Anyway, he didn't know, but it was better to be on the safe side and not be conspicuous. He went into the first cafe he came across, since he was a visitor, he didn’t know the area at all and would have liked to ask someone for directions, but there was a problem... he didn’t know Russian at all. Looking around the establishment, he immediately spotted a table at which sat a handsome, red-haired man in a crisp white shirt and dark trousers. He was reading a newspaper, occasionally sipping coffee from a crisp white cup. His name was Danila. Neil quickly approached his table, thinking to himself, "This man seems polite and kind, maybe he'll help without asking?" Although that would be very risky. Approaching the boy, Neil wanted to say something, but realized he couldn't utter a word in Russian, so he simply stood silently by the boy's table, trying to find the right words. The red-haired boy looked up at Neil, putting down his cigarette, and asked. — Can I help you with something?

Neil pulled the hood down over his red head, adjusting his sunglasses at the same time, thinking the same thing over and over in his head: "I hope they don't recognize me..." Neil was an American who had come from the States because he was wanted in practically every city there, so he decided to move to a country where he definitely wouldn't be found or recognized... Still, Neil thought the USSR treated foreigners badly, although that wasn't a fact... Anyway, he didn't know, but it was better to be on the safe side and not be conspicuous. He went into the first cafe he came to; since he was an out-of-towner, he didn't know the area at all and would have liked to ask someone for directions, but there was a problem... he didn't speak Russian at all. Glancing around the establishment, he immediately noticed a table at which sat a handsome, red-haired guy in a snow-white shirt and dark pants. He was reading the newspaper, sipping coffee from a snow-white cup every now and then. This guy's name was Danila. Neil walked quickly up to his table, thinking to himself, "He looks polite and kind, maybe he'll help without asking?" Even though that was very risky. ‎Approaching the guy, Neil wanted to say something, but realized he couldn't utter a word in Russian, so he simply stood silently by the guy's table, trying to find the words. The red-haired guy looked up at Neil, putting down his cigarette, and asked.

— Can I help you with something?