Chapter Text
“You sure Alessandra meant this exact bar?” shouts Bojan as Jere and him are trying to squeeze their way into the overcrowded building. He grabs the sleeve of Jere’s hoodie so that they don’t get separated.
“Yes… I think yes,” Jere replies, not really sure about it, still dragging the Slovenian inside.
But anyways, there is no way back. Somehow they manage to get through and actually enter the place without being suffocated by all the people who aren’t allowed in. This is a decent party after all.
“Oh my gosh!” Bojan exhales when they finally reach the barstand and get a seat. “I’m tired already,” he chuckles, unbuttons the top of his shirt and runs a hand through his messy hair. Käärijä grins at him, shaking his head.
“Come on, we only starting! See Alessandra?” Both of them scan the crowd inside but the lights are dull and the flashing lights aren’t really helping to focus.
“I don’t see any familiar faces at all. Do you know what she’s wearing?” Bojan still has to speak loud so that the music doesn't block his voice. Especially considering the fact that he has to make sure Jere understands what he’s saying.
“A dress?” Jere squints and grins, realizing that that isn’t helpful at all. There are tons of girls who are wearing all kinds of dresses.
“Yeah, I figured as much… Okay. Let’s just hope she’ll find us herself,” Bojan turns to face the bartender, a tall man with tattoos all over his hands. “Two piña coladas.”
“Oh Bojan! I dream about piña colada for long time!” Käärijä sounds excited, his eyes light up as he pats Bojan’s shoulder.
“You dreamed about alcohol? That’s not concerning at all,” Bojan’s face lights up with a smile and his thoughts drift away to the dream he had this night.
It’s a blur now, but when he woke up he remembered the part when he laughed with Jere at some stupid joke, they were in Slovenia and Bojan tried to choose a place to go but Jere’s constant hilarious comments about everything around them.
“Well, I not do that often. Just sometimes. I dream about normal things too.”
“Define normal,” Bojan chuckles again, considering if dreaming about his friend almost every night can be described as normal. “I had a couple of dreams about you, is that normal?” Bojan’s smiling and looking right into Jere’s eyes.
“I think so, yes. We spend time together every day. I’m sorry tho, you may be tired to see me here and even when you go to bed,” he laughs and Bojan can’t find a proper response so he just chuckles, breaking their eye contact. “And you know, winning Eurovision dreams, sound normal to me.”
“Agreed. Don’t want to dream about Eurovision tho. It’s already everywhere around us, like we need a break at least at night, right?”
As Käärijä nods in agreement, the bartender shows up again and places two glasses with the white-ish liquid in front of men.
“Thanks,” Jere addresses him, grabs his drink and takes a sip. “Now it’s good evening!”
“Drink up then. Long night is ahead of us.”
They raise their glasses and as the cold liquid streams down their throats their bodies let go of the tension. It’s Friday night and they can afford to relax for as much as two days in a week. The rehearsing, paparazzi, interviews, europe-wide attention, all these things are extremely overwhelming and every day it becomes harder and harder to deal with the pressure. Everyone’s looking for a way to distract themselves and at the same time keep up with the others and stay on track. Some stay in the hotel and dig deep in their inner world, some practically live on stage and can’t stop practicing. Some are like Käärijä and Bojan - they get out to explore the city, meet people and, of course, party. And today is the day. No plans for tomorrow means piña coladas for tonight. Finn's obsession with this drink seems hilarious to Bojan. To be completely honest, he didn’t even like this cocktail until he found out that Jere can’t live without it. Now he buys piña coladas for both of them every time he has a chance. Once or twice the probability of becoming an alcoholic while hanging out with Käärijä has crossed Bojan’s mind but he decided to just roll with it. Because for now it feels good and it’s enough for him.
Some more drinks follow and Alessandra does appear beside them. A part of Bojan already decided that they’re spending this night alone, but the sight of the Norwegian girl makes Jere smile again and Bojan lets go of the thought that his friend is being stolen by somebody else. After all, it’s all about having fun for the short time that they have available.
Alessandra is basically a ray of sunshine so you can’t be actually mad at her. She grabs both Jere and Bojan and drags them to the dance floor.
“I mean, you didn’t actually think that I invited you to just sit here and get drunk? You can do that without leaving your rooms, duh. It’s time to shake your butts,” she laughs as both men give in and follow her right to the middle of the crowd.
Jere hesitates for a moment when Alessandra pushes him into the center and waits for him to show her some moves. Bojan grins and folds his hands on his chest, expecting to watch the performance from his bestie.
“Come on, Käärijä! Isn’t your song about this exact situation?” she encourages Finn while he’s plotting the way to solve his little problem.
“Yes, yes, my song about that, exactly. But I need partner!” he winks at Bojan and the next second both of his wrists are in Jere’s firm grip. In that moment the song changes and the pop-track is replaced by a calm melody, announcing the slow dance.
“Oops, your plan failed, Jere,” Bojan smirks, about to retreat to get another drink. Käärijä’s hands don’t let him get away though.
“Ei, you still dance with me,” his grin is getting wider and wider as he sees Bojan’s reaction. He raises his eyebrows in confusion.
“Yeah, boys, that’s cool, I guess I’ll just find somebody else to invite me since two most handsome guys are already spoken for,” Alessandra chuckles but both guys keep staring at each other. “Whatever, lovebirds,” she mumbles to herself and waves her hand at them as she blends in with the other people.
They truly do not notice their friend leaving them because their stare lasts for so long that they’re not sure if the time has stopped or all the people just disappeared at once.
The moment Bojan wakes up is when Jere’s hands move from his wrists to his waist, dragging him closer so their chests collide. Bojan’s hands automatically end up on the man's shoulders. It’s nothing they haven’t done before, it happens all the time when they’re in their silly-goofy mood. Which means 24/7. But something in Bojan’s chest feels different. Maybe it’s just the alcohol kicking in. Jere leads them and Bojan lets him take control of the movements. He feels like he’s in one of his dreams again. Everything feels surreal, blurry. He hates the lightning now more than ever because it doesn’t let him focus on Jere’s face. But on the good side, Jere can’t notice him blushing at the moments when he re-adjusts his hands on Bojan’s waist, sending shivers down his spine. As Bojan gets used to the friend being so close, he relaxes completely, letting his chin rest on Jere’s shoulder. Finn’s hot breathing tingles his neck, messing with Bojan’s mind more than any cocktail. He closes his eyes, enjoying these seconds.
The song fades away and the other couples on the dance floor either part or kiss. But neither of these options seems like a good one to Bojan’s mind. Well, maybe one… No, neither. He feels Jere’s hands slide down.
“You good dancer, Jokerman,” Käärijä states, smiling.
“You would have found it out earlier if you’d asked me to dance with you sooner,” Bojan smirks and nods towards the bartender. “Let’s go grab one more drink?”
“No way!” Alessandra’s voice reaches them even though the music is loud again. “I get it, you guys like each other a lot but I called you here, remember? And I’m done with third-wheeling. You go get your drink and find us later,” she points at Bojan, “and you are going with me,” she throws her arm over Jere’s shoulders and leads him away.
Bojan doesn’t have time to object, the last thing he sees is Käärijä looking back at him with what looked like a guilty smile.
The Slovenian has no other option but to let go and get back to drinking. He still doesn’t feel like he’s ready to forget all the problems. So he plops on the stool and sighs loudly. The same bartender eyes him quickly as he polishes the glass.
“I know this look,” he addresses Bojan with understanding in his gaze. “Let me guess… Tequila?”
Bojan lifts his eyes to face the man.
“Yeah,” he nods a few times, “double it.”
“Will do.”