Work Text:
Spring was beginning to settle comfortably upon the streets of New York. The trees were adorning themselves anew with their finest foliage. From the vibrant chartreuse of fresh leaves to the deep, rich forest green, and camellia flowers as delicate and brilliant as amethyst, colours were reclaiming their dominion over the lingering gloom of winter.
Taking advantage of the weekend, Alex had set to work in the kitchen. Onions danced and sizzled in the pan, a slow and savoury waltz. Alex prepped his tomatoes, destined to be crushed into a smooth, velvety purée.
Glasses perched on his nose, his eyes darted between his notes and his culinary creation. He had set himself the mission of testing a new global recipe each weekend. The previous Saturday, their palates had journeyed through the Malian flavors of a delicious Maffé. This time, his objective was to master a lasagna recipe.
Just as he was about to begin preparing the meat, his tranquility was shattered by a thumping bass and the cries—or were they screams?—of an unknown singer. The noise was spilling from their office, where Henry was supposedly sorting through documents and work notes. Alex paused his cooking, hung his Han Solo kitchen apron over the back of a chair, and headed towards the source of the racket.
Opening the office door, he found Henry seated on the floor, papers strewn around him, his head bobbing to the music's relentless beat. When he saw Alex—Alex, who was staring at him in utter confusion, his eyebrows drawn downwards, seeking to meet in suspicious disbelief—Henry got up and silenced the music.
"What was that?" Alex demanded, gesturing towards the source of the sound.
"Käärijä," Henry replied, as if stating the absolute obvious.
"Huh?" was the only sound Alex could muster, having understood precisely nothing.
"He's representing Finland at Eurovision," Henry clarified.
Alex had vaguely heard of Eurovision, but only as something distant and abstract.
"Oookay... and?"
Henry chuckled at Alex's lost expression. He patted the floor with his hand, inviting Alex to sit. Once Alex was settled opposite him, Henry launched into his explanation.
"Okay. Every year, Pez, Bea, and I listen to all the songs in the contest, so we can rank and judge them before and during the final." Henry paused, ensuring Alex was following. "This year, there are 37 participants. Only 26 make it to the final after the semi-finals. Except for the Big Five, who automatically qualify. And also, the winning country from the previous edition. And I was thinking of putting something together so we could watch the final all together here. Bea, Pez, your sister, Nora, you, and me." Henry caught his breath after his lengthy explanation.
"I have so many questions," was Alex's only response.
Henry let out a small chuckle. "I know, Eurovision from over here must appear utterly alien. But knowing your passion for politics and your keen sense of justice, something tells me it might just be right up your street."
"You've got me curious. Again. So many things I want to ask. But I'm going to finish these lasagna first, unless you want to starve before lunch," Alex said, getting up. On his way past, he kissed Henry. God, he loved that he could just do that now, whenever he wanted, living together.
While Alex returned to his culinary endeavours, juggling ingredients like a master alchemist, his phone began to emit a faint chorus of notifications. First one, then moments later two, three, until they settled into a rhythm, almost a melody. Giving in, he stopped stirring his bolognese and reached for his phone. 26 notifications.
HRH Prince Dickhead ♥ Changed the name of the group to
Our Grand Six Eurovision Plan
Irl chaos demon
??
HRH Prince Dickhead ♥
My dearest friends, A grand European quest awaits you on Saturday, the 13th of May, from 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Come to our dwelling to immerse yourselves in the Eurovision saga! Prepare yourselves to witness the most monumental televised musical extravaganza, captivating over 160 million souls!
Pez fab sweet tip
♪Mama kupila traktora, šč ♪
♪Mama kupila traktora, šč ♪
♪Mama kupila traktora ♪
Bug
Ooooooh! Fancy! I've always been curious about this! I have so many questions!
HRH Prince Dickhead ♥
You're totally her sister!
Irl chaos demon
Pez, oh Pez, you okay?
Pez fab sweet tip
♪ Mama kupila traktora, šč ♪
12 points for Croatia! Trust me!
Bug
Could I possibly get a little bit more info? I asked Nora to look it up online but she wouldn't.
Irl chaos demon
Sooooo lazy.
Plus, I'd rather our lovely English friends explain it to us.
Pez fab sweet tip
You sitting down?
Fully awake?
Paying attention?
Bee 🐝
17 notifications later and forgot to mute my phone, so yeah, I'm definitely awake now...
Pez fab sweet tip
So Eurovision: Best singing competition ever! Draaaama! Bad notes!!! Oh? Princess Bea! Rough night?
Bee 🐝
...Croatia won't even be in the top 10.
Pez fab sweet tip
I will not respond to that provocation.
(But I'll bet you anything they finish in the top 10!)
Irl chaos demon
But where's my ex?
HRH Prince Dickhead ♥
Ugh, don't call him that, please!
Irl chaos demon
Muhahahaha.
I was cooking.
But all your notifications made me stop.
Waiting for Pez's lesson,
but poor guy keeps getting interrupted...
Pez fab sweet tip
I knew I could count on your support. What are you cooking?
Lasagna.
Pez fab sweet tip
Feels like ages since I had lasagne.
They'll be ready in an hour, come over to eat.
Pez fab sweet tip
You're the best! Love you!
HRH Prince Dickhead ♥
Don't be late!
Bee 🐝
Going back to bed.
Your lasagne talk...
Henry, you can count on me on the 13th.
Pez fab sweet tip
Goodnight, Princess.
I'll send you a tutorial on how to put your phone on silent.
I'll be on time.
Bug
So I'm not getting more info on Eurovision?
The internet is your friend.
Bug
-_-
Irl chaos demon
LMAOOO
***
Seated opposite Pez and Henry, Alex ate, his mouth temporarily engaged, while his mind worked furiously – processing, breaking down, trying to fit all the incoming pieces of information together.
"Right, so every country chooses their act however they fancy, but the song's gotta be totally new and not put out or played anywhere before September the year before?" Alex twirled his fork, an extension of his actively thinking brain."And the song itself can't have any political message, is that the deal?" Alex's gaze sought validation from Pez and Henry, who smiled back at his intrigued expression.
"Oh, absolutely spot on. No politics whatsoever in the actual songs," Henry affirmed.
Pez leaned conspiratorially across the table, beckoning Alex closer with a hand before dropping his voice to a mock-serious whisper, "But the politics? It's everywhere else..."
Henry then began to explain the jury and televote system and the little backroom deals. Alex watched him, incredulous, drinking in their words, becoming increasingly engrossed in the subject. "So there's no politics, but if I've got this straight, Greece gives the most points to their Cypriot neighbour if they qualify, Norway always gives the most points to Denmark, Sweden, and Finland?"
Alex looked at them with a gaze that screamed, " Seriously, what the actual hell is going on?"
“Think Game of Thrones meets Glee," Pez offered as a concise summary.
"But?! That's completely rigged for the other countries?! They literally have no shot at winning!" Alex exclaimed, genuine indignation colouring his voice at the blatant unfairness. "Like, Greece couldn't ever give points to Germany?"
A significant silence fell after Alex's question. Pez and Henry exchanged a long, knowing look, and a vast, shared, utterly wicked grin slowly bloomed across both their faces.
"Nahh, nobody gives points to Germany," Henry and Pez replied in unison before dissolving into laughter.
"Same for the UK, generally!" Pez managed between tears of mirth.
"Last year was a miracle that we finished second!" Henry laughed, tears welling in his own eyes. "Maybe we'll repeat the feat this year! The song they picked isn't bad!" Henry added, a hint of hope in his voice.
Pez placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder. He took a deep breath, and in a solemn voice, he prophesied, "Lightning never strikes twice in the same place..." Henry nodded, defeated. Alex observed the scene like a secondary character in a film who doesn't yet grasp the full stakes of the plot. He finished his plate, savouring his meal. Internally, he congratulated himself.
"Can't you feel the return of the ZERO points?!"
If it had been dark and he'd had a flashlight, Pez would have held it under his chin to create a spooky atmosphere for the zero announcement.
Henry pretended a shiver of horror ran down his body, making him squirm in his chair. "No, not the trauma from two years ago..."
"How the fuck could someone get zero points?" Alex interjected innocently.
"Oh, sweet summer child..." Henry replied, touched and amused by the naivety and innocence of his love.
***
Days bled into one another, and Alex began, almost as a dutiful chore, to listen to the selected songs from each participating country. He winced an uncountable number of times. He winced the first time he heard the famous song Henry played in their study – "Cha Cha Cha." He winced the second time. By the third? He was singing the chorus, swaying while he cooked. Henry, passing by, shot him a look that screamed, "I told you so, I was right." To which Alex responded by sticking out his tongue.
Some songs, with successive listens, developed a curious pull, a taste that made him want to return. Scrolling through the list on his phone, verifying he'd heard everything, his brow suddenly furrowed.
"What the f..." Alex began to mutter, his gaze growing more and more perplexed.
"This can't be right..." he continued to murmur.
He needed confirmation he wasn't hallucinating. Henry should be able to provide an answer. He headed towards the living room but found only a dozing David in his basket, snoring in restorative sleep.
"Didn't happen to see your favourite master?" Alex asked anyway.
No response. He moved towards their study, only to find it empty too. It was only after checking nearly every room in the house that he finally located Henry.
Henry was luxuriating in the bathtub, enjoying a hot soak, a book in his hands. Alex paused to appreciate the view before his eyes settled on the novel held by his dear one.
"Pride and Prejudice? Haven't you read that an uncountable number of times already?" Alex asked, one eyebrow raised in playful interrogation.
Henry regarded Alex. He carefully placed his book down before answering.
"When something is good, when it brings pleasure and you can continue to enjoy it, then one might as well indulge." He stated, his gaze locked with Alex's. "Did you have something you wanted to ask me?"
Alex had almost forgotten why he was looking for Henry, too captivated by the curves and angles of his love's beautiful form.
"Oh right! I was listening to the Eurovision songs..." A broad smile bloomed on Henry's lips. Alex continued, "...until I realised I wasn't listening to a song from Austria, but from Australia!!!!!"
Henry's smile widened further at the revelation.
"Why?!" Alex sank onto the bathroom floor. "Why the FUCK is Australia part of this!?" Alex clarified, utterly overwhelmed.
"Long story short: They were invited once, their ratings over there are huge, and so to thank them, they've been invited ever since," Henry explained as if this were the most logical and natural thing in the world.
"But it's called Eurovision! For Europe. What's the point of geography?!" Alex questioned, desperately seeking logic in the situation. "Why aren't we in it too, then?!"
Henry couldn't help but chuckle at the sheer absurdity of the question.
"Oh no." Henry paused. "Never. We have a minimum of integrity and honour, after all. Don't be ridiculous," Henry teased, laughing.
Alex opened his mouth, like a fish out of water, searching for a retort, but, rarely, nothing came. Then, after a few seconds, in a desperate attempt to salvage some dignity, Alex offered a less-than-convincing, "But we have talented singers..."
Henry, naked in his bath, leaned against the edge of the tub and shattered all of Alex's hopes.
"Between European countries, we enjoy a bit of mutual criticism of the other participants; look, the United Kingdom rarely gets much support. Apart from last year's miracle. But if the USA were to participate in Eurovision?" Henry let out a small, almost Machiavellian laugh. "Your ego wouldn't survive. You'd finish last, with zero points. Everyone united against you." Henry offered an apologetic smile and added, "Because all the countries hate you, love."
Alex pretended to take a bullet to the heart, emitting a soft, "Touché."
***
Our Grand Six Eurovision Plan
Bug
Have you guys heard Iceland's song? I love it!! This song is so good!
Bee🐝
It's boring as hell.
Pez fab sweet tip
Nope! Next.
HRH Prince Dickhead ♥
Sorry, June, but it's too boring.
Bee🐝
SOOOO BORING.
Sorry Sis, but this is its own universe.
I'm just starting to get used to it.
Logic here is an optional extra.
HRH Prince Dickhead ♥
Exactly.
Pez fab sweet tip
My dear June, if you want to discover Iceland's true talent, listen instead to their song "Think About Things." A masterpiece.
Bee🐝
Or watch the movie Eurovision: The Story of Fire Saga. It's a gem. With Rachel McAdams, Will Ferrell, Dan Stevens...
Pez fab sweet tip
Or, listen to Abba's discography.
Irl chaos demon
What's that got to do with Eurovision?
Pez fab sweet tip
[gif of David from Schitt's Creek looking offended]
Haz, Bee, Help me, I don't have the strength.
Their ignorance is slowly killing me.
It's consuming my soul.
The colours, the glitter, are escaping and fleeing from me.
[Gif of Jennifer Coolidge saying "Please! These gays – they’re trying to murder me"]
Bee 🐝
I feel your pain.
Abba, they won Eurovision in 1974
with their song "Waterloo." They are absolute legends of Eurovision!!
Are all Europeans as passionate about this as you are?
Because you're scaring me for the 13th.
I'm starting to get genuinely scared.
HRH Prince Dickhead ♥
Do you need a hug to feel better?
I'm just lying on the bed.
I'm coming.
You naked or dressed?
Bee 🐝
Henry don't answer that.
Bug
We do not want to know.
Pez fab sweet tip
I'm curious about the answer.
Irl chaos demon
Doesn't matter the answer.
Statistically, when Alex gets to their room, there's a 99% chance he'll be naked.
Bee 🐝
Do not picture it. Do not picture it. Do not picture it.
***
The D-day finally showed its face. Henry and Alex had prepared everything necessary in their living room to last the entire afternoon. Bea, who had arrived two days prior, was filling two large bowls with popcorn. One salted, one sweet.
"Ready to give the UK some points later?" Alex asked Bea, placing glasses on the table beside the wine bottles.
"We can't vote for our own country. That's the rule," Bea replied with a shrug.
"And that's why we often finish last!" Henry exclaimed, arriving from the kitchen.
"Another bizarre rule..." Alex muttered.
Bea and Henry shared a knowing glance. Alex, for his part, rolled his eyes. What had he gotten himself into?!
Pez arrived first, to their utter surprise. When he stepped through the door, they were dazzled by his outfit. A sparkly silver jacket with fringes that gave him a slightly country vibe; his hair, this time dyed dark purple, was also covered in glitter. Every ray of light made him incandescent.
"I am HEEEEERRRRRE," he announced, opening his arms wide, inviting his friends into a collective hug. "I'm here for the abs, for the fab," he spun around, making the sparkly fringes of his jacket dance, "...the hot girls and boys, and the criiiiinge."
Alex couldn't help but let himself be swept away by Pez's positive and infectious energy. This afternoon, he thought, was going to be memorable.
Nora and June arrived next, motivated as ever. At the sight of Pez's outfit, they cried out their admiration and couldn't resist wanting to try on his jacket as soon as they saw it.
Then, after greeting everyone, Nora settled everyone onto the sofa and armchairs and pulled some papers from a bag.
"Okay, I did some research..." She handed a sheet to each person. "...and I prepared a little bingo of what might happen during the contest."
Alex looked at his sheet; it had 25 squares filled with different situations. He read "Outcry of injustice" and smiled, thinking that would certainly happen at some point during the contest. He discovered squares like "full glitter," "fire / sparks," "wink at the camera," "sings off-key," "Political vote," "dubious costumes."
Pez looked at his sheet and called out to Nora, "There's a square for 'too much makeup,' but there's no such thing during Eurovision!"
Nora shrugged and told him he just wouldn't have to tick it and would lose. Then, she pulled more sheets from her bag.
"I'm going to ask you to write down your top 10 at the end to see if you can beat the bookmakers and my predictions. And also who should win versus who will win." She turned to Alex. "I know you're still hoping it's just a ridiculous music show that ISN'T political, but..." turning to Pez, Henry, and Bea, she invited them to complete her sentence. Amused, they replied in unison.
"IT IS POLITICAL!"
They finally settled in front of the TV, listening with half an ear to the presenters' chatter, but utterly mesmerised by their fabulous outfits. June pointed out how much bi and lesbian viewers must be admiring the trio of female presenters. Nora was full of praise for the Ukrainian singer Julia Sanina in her incredibly structured yellow dress. June kept repeating that she wanted to be as beautiful as Hannah Waddingham when she was her age. Nora then commented on Alesha Dixon's outfit, noting her choice of a blue dress.
"I love that it complements the Ukrainian presenter, representing their country's flag..."
Then came the moment they had all eagerly awaited. Austria opened the show with their song "Who The Hell is Edgar." Alex kept it to himself, but he was impatient to see the live version; the studio recording had become one of his favourites. Discreetly, he hummed along, pleased with the performance and realising how complicated singing live could be.
Next came Portugal's performance. Alex grimaced. Nora simply took a sip of her drink, and June marvelled.
"I LOVE IT!!!!" she practically shouted, looking for someone, anyone, to agree, but finding only disapproving faces.
"Like Iceland, who didn't even qualify?" Alex teased, questioning his sister's taste once again.
Switzerland's performance just kind of… happened. Didn't leave much of an impression. Poland, however, stirred the pot.
"Look, I hate to say it, but she's going straight to the bottom," Bea stated plainly. "Her voice is just... weak," she added, clearly not feeling the song at all.
"And the staging and costumes are on the wrong side of camp," Henry added, supporting his sister.
June and Nora tried to argue in the singer's favour, but they met a wall of resistance.
Serbia united them in agreement. Forgettable. Weird. Questionable choices.
Then came France.
"Given the whole UK vs. France thing, what's the consensus?" June asked the resident experts.
"They can be amazing or absolutely horrific. Last year was definitely... not great. But I'm actually really into this year's," Bea admitted.
"Her diva energy is chef's kiss, and she can SING! And hello, the glitter?! It's everything!" Pez declared, practically vibrating with enthusiasm.
"Yeah, but she looks like a fancy perfume bottle sitting on a display stand," Henry couldn't help but interject, a smirk playing on his lips.
Following shortly after was the Cypriot entry, which earned a unanimous verdict: "Hot!"
Alex and June were then captivated by Spain's performance; they praised its originality and authenticity, comparing the whole package to art.
Sweden came next. The big favourite of the contest, as Nora loved to remind them, pointing out that if she won, Sweden would host the following year, perfectly timed to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the famous Swedish group Abba's victory.
"Well, fancy that... smells like future political votes!" Alex muttered.
While she sang, Henry, on his block, could only hope the block above her was securely attached, fearing she might be crushed underneath. Alex grudgingly admitted she was still putting on a solid performance. And Bea explained to the newbies that she had already won a previous edition. "She's a pro."
"We're all agreed she's straight, right?" June polled her friends.
"Uhh, why would that be relevant?" Henry asked slowly, head cocked, sensing something ridiculous was coming based on June's smile.
"Have you seen the length of her nails?!!!!!!" was June's only drunk reply. An argument nobody dared to dispute.
Albania came next, receiving sole support from June and Nora. Bea reassured Pez, telling him their friends' taste would improve with time, and he shouldn't hold it against them. Alex, for his part, was happy to tick the "armour costume" box on his bingo sheet.
"I don't understand a single word of Italian, but 12 points, no question," Henry announced, filling out his sheet with exaggerated seriousness.
"Only 10 from me," Alex countered, equally deadpan.
"You two are basing this solely on physical attractiveness, aren't you?" Bea asked, though it was less a question and more a statement of fact she already knew.
Alex and Henry, after exchanging a long, loaded look, nodded in perfect, guilty sync.
Everyone agreed Estonia's performance was simple and powerful. Except Alex. He just... didn't like it, and he couldn't even explain why.
Then, the moment they'd been building towards. Finland – the song that started it all – launched them off the sofa. The volume was maxed out, the song's electric energy blasting through the speakers. The brownstone's walls were literally shaking. The vibe was unreal.
Every single "Cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, ei" saw all six of them screaming the lyrics until their throats were raw. Pez was full-on jumping on the sofa, a silver-fringed blur. Henry and Alex, facing each other, were yelling the "Cha, cha, cha..." part at the top of their lungs. By the time it was over, they were all grabbing drinks, gasping for air, utterly spent from that absolute explosion of energy.
The Czech Republic had the tough job of going after that – the second favourite of the night – and honestly, everyone agreed, Alex included, they totally nailed it, putting across a genuinely powerful message. June explained she'd actually translated the lyrics the first time she heard it.
"Rap moment!" Pez suddenly yelled, cutting across June, shaking his Bingo sheet with pure glee!
"Your mate from Australia's up!" Henry called out to Alex, who just stuck his tongue out in response. "I'll fill everyone else in later," he added, seeing the confused looks.
After the Australian song finished, Alex shared his thoughts, just past the halfway mark of the whole show. He'd completely ditched trying to make sense of it; he'd fully embraced the crazy, the colour, the gay coding, and yeah, the politics.
"It's Europe – kind of – plus some neighbours, but not all of them," a smirk tugging at his lips as he knew what he was about to admit, "and then, obviously, Australia! It genuinely feels like it belongs." Henry gave him a knowing look, and Alex finished his mini-speech: "It is SO stupid and makes zero sense at all, but somehow... it makes perfect sense."
Pez walked over to Alex and gave him a big hug. "I'm so bloody proud of you! You've come a long way, my friend!"
They kept going, judging, scoring, from Belgium, which Pez was obsessed with. June hated Armenia but had her own private dance party to Moldova's song. Must be the wine kicking in, Nora muttered. Pez, bless him, was living for the sheer weirdness of the whole thing.
Ukraine left them a bit cold performance-wise, but Alex was still convinced they'd place high. #Politics.
They went wild for Norway. Henry admitted he might have listened to it before when they caught him singing the entire song perfectly. "♫ She, queen of the kings, runnin' so fast, beatin' the wind. Nothin' in this world can stop the spread of her wings, ♪" he sang, full volume, full heart. Bea and Pez instantly joined him, forming a hilarious, screaming trio.
"Please tell me Germany isn't coming last again this year!" Bea said hopefully, watching a performance full of fire. She and Pez were full-on air-guitaring and yelling the chorus: "Blood and glitter ♪ Sweet and bitter ♪ We're so happy we could die ♪"
They were seriously impressed by Lithuania's voice; they collectively side-eyed Israel's lyrics ("♪ I got the power of a unicorn") but had to admit, grudgingly, the show itself was great. And they basically lost their minds during the dance part.
And they used Slovenia's performance as the strategic moment for a group bathroom break.
"Are you mentally prepared for the performance that defines Eurovision?!" Pez shouted, practically vibrating with anticipation, "Get ready for... Croatia!!!!!"
It delivered on all fronts: colours, pure insanity, beautiful chaos, ridiculous costumes, prominent moustaches, and yes, dresses.
"♫ Mali, podli psihopat, rat, rat," Pez screamed along, looking absolutely ecstatic in the face of the colourful, pop-infused chaos.
he show wrapped up with the UK's performance. Bea, Henry, and Pez were actually feeling pretty hopeful, especially after coming second last year. The studio version was genuinely good – upbeat, catchy.
Then they saw the live version. Turns out, singing live is, like, a whole skill set. Henry buried his face. Bea was full-on cringing.
"Yeowch... Oof... Cringe..." Pez groaned, feeling the pain.
"Probably super hard going last..." June offered, trying to be nice.
Alex just burst out laughing. "Zero points," he declared dramatically before making a strategic exit to the kitchen for more chips.
Nora, in full command mode, told everyone to get their scoring sheets filled out before the final results.
"Yes, ma'am," Pez and Henry muttered, nudging each other and trying to hide their papers as they compared notes.
Alex watched them, totally charmed. He loved how they could just devolve into playful kids, poking each other, trying to cheat on their own silly scoring. It was the best, seeing them so completely themselves. Henry had that sparkle in his eyes, his cheeks a little pink from the excitement. Alex couldn't stop that soft, stupid-in-love smile when he saw Henry's absolutely beaming face.
Bea and Nora, meanwhile, were locked in serious concentration, sheets finished, listening patiently to June second-guessing every single one of her picks. David, the furry ninja, was doing a stealth lap of the room, vacuuming up any stray chip casualties.
"Okay, homework collection time!!!" Nora announced, swooping in to grab the sheets, ignoring the protests from Pez and Henry who were nowhere near done. "Should've been paying attention!"
Nora demanded quiet and climbed onto the coffee table like she was about to read a decree from the queen or something. On the TV, they announced the voting was closing and the jury points were about to start, followed by the public vote later.
"First up, our esteemed – and slightly questionable – panel of experts, Bea, you predicted Germany should win..."
Pez and Henry immediately lost it, howling with laughter and staring at Bea. "Seriously, Bee?! Our credibility is on the line here???" Pez fake-cried, wiping away tears of mirth.
Nora just rolled her eyes and kept going, "And so, despite that controversial opinion, Bea still thinks Sweden will win with 'Tattoo'."
"Boo!!!" Alex yelled, definitely feeling the wine now. "Politics!"
Nora gave him the look and plowed ahead. "And our other two brilliant minds think Finland should and will take the crown..."
She was instantly drowned out by Pez and Henry, who erupted into full-blown pandemonium, screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs. "KÄÄRIJÄ!!!!! Cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha!!!!!!"
She had to wait for them to literally run out of breath before she could continue.
"And finally, Alex believes Italy should win, and..." Nora paused, giving Alex a pointed look, which he met with a totally unrepentant, smirky grin, "...and he thinks Sweden will win."
"Any remaining shred of logic is telling me that's the way it's going..." he mumbled, raising his glass in a toast of weary resignation.
"June, in her eternal optimism, hopes the Czech Republic wins but also correctly predicts Finland will win."
"Solid logic there," Henry complimented her, and Pez gave a lone, enthusiastic clap.
To wrap it up, Nora announced her own prediction: Sweden should win, and Sweden will win. The numbers don't lie, obviously. And neither do her impeccable tastes.
They finished filling everything out just as the official results started. Alex, June, and Nora quickly learned the universal truth of Eurovision results: it's agonizingly long. Like, seriously, soul-crushingly long. They pretty quickly gave up caring about the exact scores and just started debating their own top 10s. All except Alex, that is.
Alex was glued to the screen, tracking every single point, occasionally shouting things like, "OBVIOUSLY!" or " Rigged!!!" or "Oh, thank god, a country with actual taste!" or "Seriously?! Another voting bloc!" And slowly, painfully, the jury leaderboard started to form. Sweden way out front, then Israel, Italy, and Finland.
Seeing Croatia nowhere near the top 10, Bea gave Pez a significant look. "Remember our bet?" Pez suddenly developed a severe case of selective hearing and pivoted the conversation with impressive speed.
"Little Käärijä can still do it! He's got this! I believe!" he chanted, a desperate prayer to the Eurovision gods.
The public votes started low and began their slow climb up the ranks, building the tension. Germany, still last... stayed last... The UK wasn't far behind, second to last. This result was met with a chorus of cheers and whistles from Alex, Nora, and June, absolutely thrilled to have prime teasing material.
Then it was Finland's turn. They got a colossal 376 points from the public, shooting them straight to the top of the board.
Henry and Pez just exploded. They were jumping, screaming, "We're gonna win!!!! We're gonna win!!!" doing a wild dance around David, who was now bouncing along with them, hyped up by the sheer energy.
The rest of the results trickled in, confirming Israel and Italy's spots behind Finland.
Silence fell for the announcement of the televote results.
Bea tapped out a rapid drumroll on the tabletop with her fingertips.
Alex was perched on the edge of his armchair, his heart pounding in his chest.
Pez and Henry crossed their fingers, whispering, "Please, please, please."
And the result was announced. 243 additional points for Sweden.
Pez and Henry's faces shifted from joy to disappointment. Sweden had leapfrogged Finland, thus winning Eurovision. A second win for Loreen, cementing her legend eleven years after her first triumph.
"Right!" Alex raised his glass. "Here's to the politics, to the kitsch songs, to the feathers and rhinestones, to the off-key notes, to the talent, and to this utterly unique experience!" He turned to Henry, winked, and declared, "Bring on next year!"
"Rhinestones, glitter, and politics!!!" Pez replied.
"Rhinestones, glitter, and politics!!!" they echoed as one, the phrase hanging in the air as Loreen's celebratory performance of "Tattoo" began.
***
Two years later
Henry was drawn in by the sound of bass emanating from the kitchen. He knew Alex was likely exercising his talents in there, preparing a delicious dessert. It had become a ritual for Alex to put on music to get himself in the mood while cooking. Henry adored surprising him, catching him in full lipsync mode or singing loudly while dancing. Watching him sway his hips to the beat was a spectacle he never tired of.
He therefore headed towards the source of the noise. As he approached, the specific song caught his ear, and he couldn't help but smile. Croatia. "Poison Cake."
Stepping across the threshold, Alex, apron tied around his neck, was dancing and singing. When he spotted Henry, he couldn't resist moving towards him to the rhythm of the music.
"♫ Made you something that I know you'll like
Chocolate-covered sugar and spice ♪
Tasty, tasty, yum, yum, tasty ♪
♫ Candy colors, oh so nice
Take a bite of my poison cake, yum ♫" he sang, his gaze playful and suggestive. He wrapped his arms around Henry languidly before kissing him tenderly.
"You are a menace..." Henry murmured, kissing Alex back.
"And you do realise he won't qualify?" Henry added, chuckling at Alex's feigned disappointment.
**
That morning, Henry had absolutely no desire to go to work. He had a presentation scheduled for potential investors, aiming to raise funds to open new LGBTQIA+ shelters. A knot of anxiety tightened in his stomach; he was terrified of failing.
He settled into his usual spot at the breakfast table, finding his tea already prepared – a small, comforting gesture from Alex.
"Morning, baby. Sleep well?" Alex asked, leaning down to press a soft kiss against Henry's cheek.
Henry offered a small shrug, a faint grimace touching his lips. "Not really... just counting down until this presentation is over..."
"You know what they say in situations like this?" Alex asked, his hands resting on Henry's shoulders, massaging them gently.
"What do they say?"
"Life is like spaghetti, it's hard until you make it," Alex whispered close to his ear.
Henry turned around to face Alex, who was struggling to hold back a laugh.
"Tell me I'm hallucinating. Did you genuinely just pull-out Eurovision lyrics to try and calm my nerves?" Henry's expression was a mix of admiration and surprise.
Alex just shrugged, looking incredibly pleased with himself. Heading towards the coffee machine, he began to hum, "No stresso, no stresso, It's gonna be espresso ♪"
**
David loved exploring the house, inspecting every single corner. His day had been productive. He'd had a long walk in the park, tried to make friends with a squirrel - only Henry's firm voice had dissuaded him- He'd taken a first nap in his kitchen basket, then gone to Alex's study to demand cuddles. And after that, he'd had his afternoon nap on the sofa before another walk where this time he'd tried to make friends with a cat, without success.
That evening, when he entered his masters' bedroom, he was surprised by the sight that greeted him. Alex and Henry, both in their boxers, were dancing and singing their hearts out.
"♫ Why should we let other people decide / When we could be havin' the time of our lives? ♪ / ♫ Let down your walls, come and dance to my vibe / I do it all the time, yeah, I do it all the time ♫"
Alex was holding his phone like a microphone, and Henry was using a hairbrush, and they were giving it their absolute best performance.
"Do-re-mi-fa-s-s-serving..." they sang, dissolving into laughter.
Before adding the next line, cut and censored by the Eurovision committee: "♪ KAAANT!"
David came bounding around them, joining the whirlwind of happiness.
One thing was certain: they were ready for this new edition of Eurovision✨.