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Interlude: No shortcut to happiness

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Jare was sitting in the middle of the floor working on some lyrics when his doorbell rang. He had a quite good idea of who it might be and just because of that he took extra long to rise from where he was sitting. Just because Jimi was coming unnanounced.

Well to be fair Jare had indeed been expecting him. There hadn't been a single text since his panicky messages about Robin and he was well aware Jimi had arrived back to Finland last night. So either Jimi had taken his advice, dealt with it like a man, and done whatever felt best, or he had royally screwed something up and was now here to have jare lick his wounds. Which he would gladly do. And he'd keep doing it for as long as Jimi needed him to.

But he really did hope that maybe one day Jimi would truly suck up to the fact that he was in love with Robin and just get on with it. Maybe then the guy would actually smile with his eyes again. Yes, Jimi had gotten so much better, but this wasn't the Jimi Jare had seen over those two years when he worked with Robin. This Jimi wasn't comfortable with himself, this Jimi still drank way too much (not that Jare himself was any better) and this Jimi just lacked that little spark of actually enjoying what he was doing.

So, to be honest, Jare just fucking missed seeing his best friend happy.

He got to the door and opened it with a slightly annoyed "Yes?". Just as he'd expected it was Jimi standing on the other side, already stepping inside without a word.

"Well hello to you too", Jare said and closed the door behind them. Jimi was taking off his jacket and hanging it up and he still hand't said a word.

"So how did it go with a certain Packalen?"

Jimi just froze. He was holding his jacket in midair, just about 10 centimeter from the hanger. Jare couldn't see his face but suddenly his neck and ears were completely red. And now that was something Jare had never seen before, despite all the years they'd known each other by now.

"No way. You didn't."

When he got a nod back all Jare could do was punch Jimi in the shoulder playfully.

"Oh man, now that's what I'm talking about. Time to celebrate."

He strutted out into the kitchen to look for a suitable bottle of champagne. Because this, this was worth one of those bottles.

"Now get your ass inside, sit down and tell me all the frigging details. Okay not all, fuck no, but just what happened. How the heck you ended up in bed. The last thing I heard was you freaking the fuck out."

He could hear Jimi settling in the living room as he opened a bottle and poured two glasses. He was indeed quite interested in whatever had brought on this change in plan. For all he knew Jimi had been set on avoiding the boy for pretty much ever. Maybe there was more to Robin than Jare would've expected.

"Are you gonna spend two weeks getting us champagne or what the fuck is up?"

"Shut up", Jare replied with a grin and carried the two glasses into the living room. Now this was going to be interesting. Because on the sofa sat Jimi, with a shit-eating grin on his face, and it went all the way to his eyes. 10 points and a parrot sticker to Robin, Jare thought to himself as he gave Jimi his glass and sat down.