Chapter Text
“Bojan, I love you. Come to Finland, with me.” Bojan had almost managed to convince himself that this video didn’t really exist. That it wasn’t as heartrending as he remembered it. He had tried to forget about it, but here it was. From the summer, seven months ago, but it seemed like it was from a different life.
A clip where Jere literally confessed his love to him. On a major Finnish media, no less. He looked so vulnerable and like he was baring his heart open for the whole Finland to see. And then they just continued their lives as if nothing had happened. As if Bojan didn’t stay up the whole night after seeing the clip for the first time.
Well, Bojan did go to Finland in June. But something happened in the few weeks between that video and his trip, he still wasn’t sure what.
Bojan had had his excuses not to push it. Mainly them being busy with touring, which was not just an excuse but also true. Now, he was no longer busy, he was out of excuses and most importantly, he was out of ways to distract himself. He was supposed to chill for a bit.
Bojan: “I’m thinking about coming to Finland soon. Can I stay at your place?”
***
Bojan originally developed a crush on Käärijä, but he fell in love with Jere. It took him quite a while to really grasp the difference.
Most people got it wrong. They thought Käärijä was just a stage name. If the guy was off the clock, you’d get Jere. If only. It was more complicated than that, especially with the way Käärijä would often step in in his daily life, too. If Bojan got a message from the Finn, it was usually very clear whether it was from Jere or Käärijä. And the more time passed, the more often it was from Käärijä.
Jere was sweet, kind and sensitive. Adorable. He cared deeply about others, often too much, and radiated a special kind of warmth. He struggled to say no and he did care what others thought about him. Käärijä was his protective barrier against the world, as this kind of people get stomped on and brutalized. When people were drawn to Käärijä and his unique flavor of charisma, it was really glimpses of Jere irresistibly shining through the dark armor.
In Bojan’s mind, Jere was someone who would buy you a dozen red roses and cry in bed, while Käärijä would fuck bad boys in a back alley.
The division was particularly unfortunate for Bojan. Jere seemed smitten with him to the point he often stopped noticing the outside world altogether and would just stare at Bojan with heart-eyes. But Käärijä would do his best to prevent any romance from developing and so far had mostly been successful. At this point Bojan had got so desperate he would have accepted a public bathroom handjob from Käärijä, something they’d never discuss again, even if that wasn’t what really wanted. What he wanted didn’t seem to make any difference, anyway.
The only thing Bojan was still a bit confused about was who had kissed him that Saturday evening in Liverpool. Was it Käärijä since he dared to do that in the first place? Or Jere, boosted by the cocktail of sleep deprivation and liquid courage?
The one who blushed afterwards was Jere. Jere who held Bojan’s hands in his cute little hands that were so warm and soft. Jere had also held his hand for a bit at Tavastia. Bojan had a detailed log in his head of every instance when Jere had kissed him, held his hand, when they had cuddled or otherwised touched in a special way. After not meeting him in months, he was starving for more of that.
***
Formulalakanat. That’s what Bojan had been promised. He had been promised all kinds of things, both in public and in private. Delivery was yet to happen.
(Käärijä): “Maybe. Is now best time? Its winter. Dark. Very cold.”
Bojan: “Yes. And I’m aware. We’re both on a break now.”
(Käärijä): “You can stay in my guestroom if you dont mind its full of fan stuff.”
Bojan: “Fine, no problem.”
Jere’s guestroom, totally fine, no problem at all. Yes yes.
***
Jere didn’t wait for him at the arrivals hall for obvious reasons, but by his car, a woollen beanie pulled a bit too far down, his breath steaming up in the air. When he first saw Bojan, he couldn’t hide his wide smile which instantly seemed to warm the air.
Bojan’s heart thumped in his chest. Jere. It was Jere at his Jere-est, who wrapped him in his arms and lifted him above the ground. Bojan gave him a kiss on the cheek, Balkan-style, and then something shifted. Jere’s face grew more serious, as Käärijä had stepped in.
“You had good flight?” Jere (Käärijä) asked.
What does that even mean? Bojan got to Finland in one piece and his luggage also made it. It was dull and boring, as flights are, but it had carried him directly from his hometown to Jere’s and now he was sitting in the front seat of Jere’s car, so all things considered, an excellent flight.
The car ride to Jere’s place also had the huge boon of its destination, and the snowy scenery looked pretty even if a bit eerie in the dark. Other than that it could have been better. It wasn’t that things between the two of them were tense or awkward. They just weren’t how they were supposed to be. Soft, tender, magical. Punctuated by constant giggles and near-involuntary touches that just happened.
They watched a mediocre film and ordered mediocre pizza and they cracked jokes, but none of them quite landed. They were just sitting there, not snuggled up together. What was the point of even watching a movie with someone if you weren’t cuddling?
Bojan did manage to sneak himself into Jere’s bed, as the guestroom was the same as Jere’s fan art room and not surprisingly, he had never got around to tidying it up. No formlalakanat and they slept on different sides of the bed, a chasm between them. If Jere wanted to be distant, Bojan wasn’t going to make him uncomfortable, even if the Finn definitely made him uncomfortable.
Fighting against the urge to touch was preventing him from sleeping. There was an urge to cry, too. Where was the sweet and delightful Jere? Why wasn’t he showing up? Bojan’s rational side told him to give the guy more time. Finns are not known as parrticularly warm people. Except Jere always was.
By the second day, Bojan was full of doubt. What if he had just made up the whole Jere/Käärijä distinction? What if Jere didn’t seem to have any feelings for him because he didn’t, at least not anymore. The easiest explanation was often the correct one. Perhaps Bojan had just been deluding himself for months.
“You seem weird”, Bojan said as they were halfway through another film. He didn’t come to Finland to watch movies, at least not like this. Netflix and Chill didn’t refer to this kind of chill. Perhaps the problem was his expectations.
“Weird? How?”
Jere probably knew what he meant.
“Just not like I know you”, Bojan said.
“It’s weird not play gigs almost every day. Empty.”
Bojan did know the feeling. But you’re not empty, I’m here.
“If you don’t want watch movie, you can say.”
But what would they do then? Sing Cha Cha Cha for the millionth time? Re-enact the Titanic on an ice rink? The outdoor temperatures weren’t exactly conducive to pleasant strolls.
Bojan had figured he could handle the trip, just like he had handled the previous ones, but the ache to have Jere was getting stronger. No, I don’t want to watch a movie, I want to stick my tongue in your mouth and my hands in your pants.
Going to a bar was one obvious option. When the Finn got liquored up, he softened and glimpses of Jere started showing up. There was a joyful spark in his eyes again and actual glee in his laughter. He started sidehugging Bojan and putting his hand on his thigh.
The bar also had karaoke, so of course they had to sign up. Jere was up first. He had chosen a Finnish pop song that Bojan couldn’t understand, but he was clearly singing it to Bojan, similar to when they did karaoke back in June. Bojan had always loved Jere’s voice and it was so mellow and tender now.
He went for a wildcard: Bon Jovi’s “You Give Love a Bad Name”. He wasn’t looking at Jere when he belted it out, but the message was hardly unclear.
To Bojan’s surprise, Jere snuggled up to him when they went to bed, in a way that was adorably vulnerable and child-like. Bojan felt his entire body relax in the Finn’s embrace, feeling his warm breath on his skin. He wanted to look him in the eye, but it was too dark in the room. He pressed a kiss on Jere’s neck, like the other had done to him in Liverpool. Jere shivered, and something about it was just too much. Too much yet not enough.
***
They woke up still tangled together and Jere Käärijä seemed embarrassed about it. He had some important work stuff to do and was in Käärijä mode the whole day. Bojan cooked for them, and the Finn expressed appreciation, yet even when they were eating, Jere seemed hopelessly far away. Perhaps it was just about the work stuff, except I wasn’t.
“Would you like to hear a song from our upcoming album?” Bojan asked.
“Of course.”
Bojan handed him his headphones. Jere sounded enthusiastic, but Bojan missed the spark the Finn used to have in his eyes when listening to their music.
“I like it. It’s bit different. You sound more …grown-up.”
That was an interesting way to put it, but Bojan agreed. He sounded older for sure, but whether that was in a good or bad way he was much less certain about.
“It’s called Zvezde, which means ‘Stars’.”
“What is about?” Jere asked.
“That we are all under the same sky, but depending on where you are on Earth, you catch a different view of the night sky. Though here you probably don’t see anything as your eyes just freeze into your head.”
Jere chuckled.
“Why this song?”
“Just thought it might make you feel something.”
It was a pretty blunt way of putting things, but Jere didn’t react.
They went to sleep on their own sides of the bed again. It was getting really frustrating. Bojan wanted to bring it up, but what good would it have done. Jere wasn’t just a polite distance away, he would have fallen off had he inched any closer to the edge of the bed. Bojan was normally a good sleeper, but not in these circumstances. When Jere fell asleep, Bojan would move closer, yet the chasm didn’t go anywhere.
That night it got too much. Bojan had been tossing awake for ages, probably hours, just thinking about Jere. Jere who was lying there sound asleep in his annoyigly irresistible body, an arm’s width away yet off limits. Bojan rolled farther away again and let himself jerk off to his near-intrusive thoughts. Doing that quietly was one skill that tourbus life certainly taught you.
Or so Bojan had concluded, but just as he finished, Jere stirred.
“Bojan? What are you doing?”
Shit.
“Sorry if I woke you up, I had a muscle cramp.”
Bojan “muscle cramp” Cvjeticanin. Jesus Christ, what a pathetic excuse. Jere reached out to squeeze his shoulder. He probably figured it out, but was too polite to comment on it. What could he even have said? Reprimanded Bojan? Käärijä might have had a scathing remark, but Jere was far too nice even when the Slovene was being inappropriate and gross.
Jere’s breath woke Bojan up in the morning, tickling his face from. Judging from the direction, the Finn must have been watching him, which was a curious thing to do with a friend you were avoiding.
Bojan pretended to still be asleep. Maybe this could just continue forever. Maybe it would go how he imagined it last night. Jere feeling hopelessly drawn to him, he would kiss Bojan and they would make up steamily and one thing would lead to another and Jere would reach under the covers to give him head. Yeah, right.
Jere pulled away. When Bojan opened his eyes, the Finn chuckled at him.
“What’s so funny?” Bojan asked.
“Bed head. Looks …nice.”
It sounded like Jere had wanted to say cute or some other word, but changed his mind at the last second. He reached out to ruffle Bojan’s hair, something the other had really missed.
“Can you keep doing that?” Bojan asked. And Jere actually played with his hair for a while, which gave him pleasant shivers.
“What if you not put all your hair products today?” Jere suggested.
“Why?”
Surely Jere was not suggesting he would be more eager to caress his hair if it felt softer and more natural?
“I want see”, Jere said. “Maybe you look like poodle.”
“Thanks.”
Jere made them tea and Bojan tried to hang on to that. That’s what he got so he should enjoy it, Jere making him tea. (Not one cup, but two separate ones.) He had beautiful porcelain mugs with bunnies, definitely not bought by Käärijä.
The tea was called Emperor’s Bride, but Jere didn’t make any weird quip about that like he would have in the past on the father – boyfriend – puppy axis. Bojan missed those jokes. But Jere touched Bojan’s hand and suddenly the Slovene was overwhelmed by all kind of romantic fantasies. From a fleeting brush of fingers. He was hopeless.
Though not hopeless enough to go without slathering his hair with styling products. No one needed to see that.
***
On Friday they headed to a different bar, where some friends of Jere’s were supposed to join them later. There was no karaoke, but more of a nightclub vibe with a proper dancefloor and bass that vibrated through your body. The drinks were bizarrely expensive, even for Finland, but Jere said he was paying for the pink and green concotions he ordered for them.
Unfortunately in this place they also had a lot more eyes on them than at the previous, more suburban venue. Bojan was not big on that, even if most of the eyes were not directed at him.
Jere was in Käärijä mode, but when some fans asked for photos, he suddenly went all soft and nice and posed with them. It irritated Bojan more than he wanted to admit: some random strangers could get Jere out of his shell, yet he couldn’t? Hopefully more booze would do the trick. The first drinks hadn’t yet produced the transformation Bojan was hoping for. If anything, they had made the Finn even cockier.
They were partying to a 90s eurodance tune when some fans started filming them. There was also a woman with a proper camera, probably journalist. Jere got this weird glint in his eye and started dancing closer to Bojan while making flirty gestures at him.
Bojan leaned closer to be able to tell Jere he was making him feel uncomfortable when the Finn grabbed his face and kissed him on the lips. While Bojan couldn’t deny it felt amazing, he pulled away as soon as he could grasp what was happening. The people around them looked amused, which made him even angrier.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Just messing with them”, Jere grinned.
“You are messing with me and I’m not a prop, I’m your friend, or so I thought. Fuck you, Jere. You’re disgusting.”
The expression on the Finn’s face turned to shock as Käärijä gave room to Jere, but Bojan couldn’t give a shit anymore. If he was a person who might throw their drink at someone, now would have been a prime occasion, but that was violence and he was not a violent person. And it would have made the mess with the photographers even worse. Bojan exited very low-key, like he was just heading to the bathroom instead of storming off like he actually was.
Bojan grabbed his coat from the wardrobe room and ran, the freezing January air burning his nose and lungs. He would need to figure out quickly where to go, it was too cold to stay outside trying to clear his head. There was a bitter taste in his mouth that wasn’t just Aperol or grapefruit.
Had he really just been misreading everything and it had all been a fucking joke to Jere? Why had he kissed Bojan in Liverpool then when no one could see them? Maybe Bojan was just a part of his “finding himself” journey, a stepping stone when reaching for something else. Bojan had made a total fool out of himself, holding ideas about Jere that clashed with reality.
He hailed a cab and barely managed to utter the address. Thoughts were swirling in his head. He needed to send a bunch of messages, including to his mother, which he really wasn’t looking forward to. In the worst case, his parents might wake up to photos of him in the Slovenian media.
First, Bojan opened up Jere’s chat. There was a deluge of texts from the Finn who had also tried to call him multiple times. Bojan typed a message with his hands shaking and knuckles white, having to correct numerous spelling errors.
“You damn well know I’m really into you and you made me feel used and violated. I hope making fun of my feelings for you and dragging me out of the closet was worth the social media clout.”
Käärijä, Jere, who the fuck cared anymore. Same shit in a different package. Bojan blocked him and allowed the tears to fall.