Chapter Text
Freppa prides himself on one thing more than anything in his life, more than his band. Not like he’d tell Tommy anything about not being the most proud about the band. In actuality, Freppa prides himself on his intelligence. The ability to problem solve and understand new things is something Freppa holds close to his heart. He kind of has to, always had had too, since school. After all, he is friends with Tommy and Määnin. Tommy has never been the brightest kid, focusing on everything but his studies. Usually on Määnin. He had always been focused on Määnin, the “Toughest Man In All Of Vörå.”, as Tommy said, rather than focusing on dumb things like maths.
Määnin wasn’t any better, especially with being dyslexic. He struggled a lot more in school, more focusing on what he is good at when he failed at what he was supposed to be. Despite all this, Tommy was there for him, and even though Tommy struggled in school, he helped Määnin the best he could. Sometimes giving him answers to have a conversation with his already best friend. Määnin always appreciated Tommy's help, or attempted help. He’d chuckle under his breath when Tommy’d get caught up and confused on what he was trying to explain to Määnin. Once, when Määnin was drunk and Tommy had passed out, Määnin had confessed he found Tommy ‘cute’ when he was flustered.
Since the dawn of time, everyone knew that Tommy was deeply and hopelessly in love with Määnin. And even though it was sometimes less obvious and less loud, Freppa knew Määnin was just as in love as Tommy was. But the thing is, when two stupid people are in love, and are blinded by it, they don’t realise the other is head over heels for them.
Freppa knew all of this, and decided to let it unfold naturally. He had learnt to never disrupt the natural flow of nature, let it unfold as the universe intended, no matter how long it takes. No matter how much it pains the two of them. And Freppa knew confidently that if he hinted towards the fact that Tommy is gay and Määnin is actually in love with someone, he’d get his assed kicked.
Tommy is a lightweight. No doubt about it even if he tries to hide it or yell about being a tough drinker, but never as tough as Määnin because comparing himself to the toughest man ever is extremely insulting. He is absolutely hammered after this gig. Määnin not so much but still unsteady on his feet.
“I’m fine, Freppa. S-stop askingg…” Tommy slurs, eyes half shut and his cheeks flushed. He reeks of alcohol and smoke. Määnin is leaning on the wobbly man with an arm around his shoulder. Määnin is silent.
The bar had died down a little, just groups of people in their own corners surrounded by new rounds and empty glasses. For them, after the gig Thåossin and Gambämäänin had left, claiming their own responsibilities. Which Freppa had the knowledge to understand that meant drinking on Gambämäänin’s leather couch in a much more calm environment. They also did it to stay clear of Tommy and Määnin’s drunk antics. Out of sight out of mind.
So it’s Freppa’s responsibility to take care of them. Not like he cares, he’s been doing it for years and wouldn’t be their friend if he didn’t want to help them. Drinking was a part of Vörjeans. Without beer, Vörjeans would be nothing.
Freppa manages to bundle the pair into the backseat of Mrs Börns. As usual, they are slumped on top of eachother, mumbling and laughing together. Usually, they’d never be so… domestic. But being drunk breaks down the tough raggare barrier they both put up.
In the rearview mirror, he can see Tommy’s head on Määnin’s shoulder, and Määnin’s on top of Tommy’s. With the angle of the mirror, he only gets a glimpse of something that catches his attention. Määnin’s hand on Tommy’s thigh, fingers curled on the inside of his frontman’s thigh. Tommy appears to be smiling softly in what Freppa assumes to be sleep.
He smiles to himself. Tommy really is that in love. He’d forget it in the morning, or whenever he sobers up from his inebriated state. But it’s nice to see, nonetheless. Freppa is glad he doesn’t like the taste of alcohol, so he can see moments like these that the pair will forget.
When they arrive at Tommy’s apartment, they are reluctant to move from their comfortable position. They do look comfy. Tommy appears to have melted into Määnin, leaning into him and mumbling at the slightest movement.
“Don’t wanna go.. Only if you stay..” Tommy murmurs, face pressed into Määnin’s shoulder, the bassist rubbing his thigh comfortingly, it seems to bring a soft smile to Tommy’s flushed face.
“I’ll stay.” Määnin says quietly, speaking into Tommy’s brown hair, his hat resting on Määnin’s lap. Tommy’s hair looks dishevelled, as if Määnin’s left hand had been carding through it while his right hand was occupied on his thigh. “Don’t worry, I’m staying with you.”
Määnin helps Tommy up to his apartment, letting him throw his arm over his shoulder as support. Määnin’s arm snakes around Tommy’s waist, hand rubbing his side gently. In his other hand, he holds Tommy’s precious cap with care, knowing how much it means to him. Tommy probably doesn’t even notice he is missing it on top of his head. He’ll be grateful in the morning.
Freppa follows them up, mainly to help them wind down and preferably not choke on their own vomit. Tommy fumbles with the key, before Määnin takes it out of his hand, knocking his forehead to Tommy’s temple in a wordless attempt to tease him.
When the door opens, Tommy shrugs his jacket off in an ordeal that looks more like he is battling a ghost only visible to him. Määnin chuckles and helps him out, throwing it to the floor alongside his own jacket and boots. Freppa bends down and hangs the jackets up, and when he looks up, Tommy is perched on the armrest of the sofa, with Määnin on the floor taking his shoes off for him. Tommy is speaking, as shown by his mouth moving as he looks down at the bassist, but Freppa is too far away for him to hear. Or Tommy has finally learnt an inside voice. Määnin throws his shoes behind himself, near Freppa where he neatly arranges the shoes. Määnin knocks his head to Tommy’s knee, making the man above giggle.
He then gets to his feet and pulls Tommy up and stumbles into the bedroom in his arms.
Freppa smiles to himself. They must be so blind to not see the love kindling between them. It’s impossible. But Freppa mustn't push them too early, that’s a recipe for disaster for everyone involved.
To make sure they don’t suffer as bad in the morning, he searches through Tommy’s kitchen drawers and finds the ibuprofen pack he bought for Tommy and pops two out of the tray, grabbing two glasses of water.
Quietly, he steps into the bedroom.
Clothes are strewn across the floor, a mix of Määnin and Tommy’s shirt, jeans and socks (Is that a pair of boxers?). His eyes follow up towards the bed, and find Määnin with a hand raised with a cigarette, keeping away from Tommy’s face. On the bedside table, he spots an ash tray. Tommy does not smoke. Speaking of, the man is asleep, drooling with his head on Määnin’s bare chest with his arms wrapped around his middle. He looks happy, as Määnin’s fingers rake through his hair.
“Will you be okay through the night?” Freppa asks, placing the water and tablets on the bedside table, holding back a grimace from the smoke.
“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ at the end, nodding down at Tommy laid on top of him. “He’ll be fine. I’ll make sure.” Määnin’s lips perk up in the concept of a smile looking at Tommy. Just like they always have. Despite Tommy proclaiming that Määnin is the toughest man ever, Määnin is the softest around him.
“Not just him. You. Will the both of you be okay?”
“Yes, Fredrik. We will be fine. Nothing bad happens when you leave us alone.”
Freppa gives him a look and folds his arms over his chest. “I’d disagree.”
“It was one time!” He raises his voice a little more than normal volume, then mumbles, “Sorry, Tom.”, when Tommy makes a noise against his chest. The hand in his hair briefly strokes his cheek.
“Tommy came to me with a broken arm trying not to cry.”
“Doesn’t matter. We’ll be okay. I’ll– I’ll make sure.”
“Good. Thank you.”
“Night, Fred.”
“Night, Määnin.”
Behind him, Freppa closes the front door quietly.
Truly, they have to be really stupid to not realise the other is in love. Because just from tonight someone could assume they are together. From the outside they look like a regular couple, just without the kissing but with a lot more touching that implies. They could be married. They could live a sweet, love filled life.
Freppa drives home with the Born To Börn CD playing at low volume, thanks to Tommy’s drunken yelling request for it to be blasted, yelling ‘Moon Määnin Moon’ as if he was on stage, singing for his life. Määnin was smiling happily behind his sunglasses. Määnin has always admired Tommy like he is a hall of fame musician.
Tomorrow will be a new day. A new day where both of them will forget the precious nights, the events returning to their memories in a hazy blur. Freppa hopes that it is soon they realise. In time for summer, he prays. WIth a tired sigh, he turns the key in the Volvo ignition.