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“The damn Americans got a seat, but not me?” Giedo practically shouted, when he stepped into the room and noticed every seat taken.
Marcus and Daniel looked up, both sheepishly smiling. “Sorry, we must have double booked someone,” The Australian explained, not noticing the Dutchman taking a picture and posting it to his Instagram, hashtagging it story of my life.
Jenson pulled Will onto his lap and patted the spot beside him “Sit here, mate,” he smiled, ignoring the protest coming from the abnormally short Brit.
“Jenson! What the fuck are you doing?” Will hissed under his breath, looking straight at the man in question, but clearly giving up his struggle to get free from the prison also known as the lap of Jenson Button™.
“Don’t make a fuss, you need to trust me,” Jenson smirked, smiling, leaning back so Will would have more room to get comfortable.
“I will make you pay for this,” Will replied with a huff, but moving slightly around so he could at least be comfortable if he had to sit on an insufferable Brit the whole night.
“Let the games begin!” Daniel practically shouted, making everyone first look at him then pay attention to the opening bars of the 2015 Eurovision Song Contest. All of the European drivers had found a way to show off their own flags, which was making it rather complicated for one Nico Rosberg, who had quite a few different flags in his hands.
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Kimi and Sebastian were sitting together, the German clearly having stolen one of Kimi’s hats because it had the Finnish flag on it instead the German. The Finn had absolutely no markings for any country at all on his body and seemed to only be there because if he didn’t show up he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Sebastian who would be lecturing him about team spirit and bonding and such, or worse, getting Maurizio to do it.
“Vodka,” Kimi mumbled, looking pointedly at Sebastian, clearly wanting the man to hold up to his end of their deal.
“Alcohol is for ballads and the voting, not for the opening, Kimi. We have gone over this,” Sebastian replied, smiling at his teammate before he looked back at the screen.
“Well you know alcohol is free,” Kevin cut into their conversation, taking a sip of his own beer and ignoring Kimi’s angry stare.
“Will you all shut up!” Nico Hülkenberg demanded, taking a bite out of a banana and turning the sound on the television up a bit more.
“Can I have a banana?” Nico Rosberg asked his, at least for the moment, fellow German. Things could change during the night as one of the Nicos could change his nationality.
“Ja,” Hulken replied, smiling and handing one to the other Nico who was walking to sit further away from Lewis, ending up sitting besides Romain.
********
“Vodka,” Kimi stated after the first notes of the first song, holding out his glass. Sebastian chose to not mention the tiny Finnish flag on it and instead just filled it up.
“Guys, Guys! GUYS!” Daniel demanded, getting everyone's attention. “How cool is this? I am so excited! And we are all doing this properly! Like it should be done! And I get to vote!” he rambled, everyone just smiling and nodding along. Already having endured weeks of this torture, they had learnt that it was easier to just let him go on.
“I know right! And your song is so great!” Marcus replied, sitting besides the Aussie. They were the only two who were sitting at at the edge of their respective seats, not taking an eye off the performance, but fist-bumping each other with practiced perfection.
********
“Viva La France” Romain muttered under his breath as the French song started up. Rosberg nodded as he was prepared to root for every country he could tonight in the hopes that one of them would win.
“Surrender monkeys,” Will muttered under his breath, not loud enough for the Frenchies to hear. Jenson on the other hand did, and he was smiling brighter than a phoenix. Holding up his fist so they could fist-bump, but instead discreetly catching Will’s hand. Well at least he was under the impression that it was discreetly, about half the room would disagree.
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“Vodka,” Kimi stated again, glass at the ready. He had even taken his sunglasses off, so clearly he knew something Sebastian didn’t.
“There is vodka?” Bottas leaned forward from his spot, looking straight at the other Finn, hope showing on his face.
“You want some, Valtteri?” Sebastian asked. When Bottas nodded he handed him an unopened bottle of vodka, which made Kimi glare at him.
“Don’t worry Kimi we got plenty of vodka,” Sebastian explained before he turned back around so he could more easily ignore the stare of death he was receiving.
********
“Hey guys! Shut up and pay attention to how it is supposed to be done, even if none of you ever vote for us.” Lewis said, looking straight at his team-mate like it was his fault that the entirety of Europe never voted for the UK.
“No one cares about Britain's conspiracy theories, you could have just not taken over the world and we would like you better,” Hulken said, taking a bite out of a pear.
“Says the German,” Marcus jumped in, not taking his eyes off the screen, but clearly paying some attention to the commotion.
“Really, Swede? That is what you are going with? That is just weak,” Kevin said, sipping his beer. “Hey Hulk, toss a fellow an apple will you?” he added, catching the apple with his left hand when it was tossed to him.
********
“Hey! Why aren’t you all writing down your own scores on the score cards? I gave you all one! I even made sure you all got your own pen! They even have the Eurovision logo! How cool is that? I didn’t know they sold this much cool Eurovision stuff!” Dan exclaimed waving his own score cards in the air in case someone didn’t know what the piece of paper they all had been handed by the Aussie the moment they stepped into the room was.
“Calm down, dude,” Daniil muttered, having been the one who had to endure most of the Aussie’s quite frankly scary obsession with Eurovision. It had been going on for weeks and weeks and it was just impossible to get away from.
“But Eurovision pens!” Daniel replied, his smile getting even bigger.
“They are very cool!” Marcus agreed.
********
“Vodka,” Kimi demanded, for about the seventh time, Sebastian’s grin getting smaller for each balad that came up and more scared that he might give his team-mate alcohol poisoning.
“How many ballads can one show have?” Sebastian asked to the room as a whole.
“Did you even look up the entries before the show Seb?” Jenson asked and the now smirking Will seemed to have gotten comfortable on the lap and it didn’t much look like he was there under duress.
“Isn’t it pretty much the same every year? Did they just send all the ballads at the start of the show and now we get no more?” Sebastian replied, confusion clear on his face.
“Yeah, no,” Hulken stated, now having gone on to peel an orange, and offering a second one to the other German as a consolation.
“Shut up guys! The country where my Queen’s cousin rules is singing!” Kevin asserted, making everyone shut up out of fear for what the viking could do.
********
“Well, that wasn’t my cup of cake,” Hülkenberg said after the Norwegian song had finished, holding an entire watermelon.
“I know right! But now it is time for the highlight!” Marcus said, getting a glare from the Dane.
“SWEDEN!” Daniel shouted, waving his surprisingly large Swedish flag around with one hand and eating a slice of watermelon with his other. As not only the Dane was glaring at him, but also two Finns, one Half-Finn and the the Honorary-Finn glared at him, but all keeping quiet out of fear for what the honeybadger could do to them.
“That was great Marcus!” Daniel’s smile was threatening to split his face. He was giving the Swede the dorkiest thumbs up, the kind you would usually expect from Sebastian in any other context.
“One more song and we get Australia!” The Swede replied, already getting his Australian flag ready.
“Vodka,” Kimi muttered, voice still surprisingly steady, the hand holding his glass on the other hand starting to shake a bit. Sebastian obediently filled it up again, but tried to put less in it, which didn’t go over well with the Finn who just glared at him until he filled it up to the point he had done all night.
********
“THAT WAS AMAZING DAN! GREAT JOB! Welcome to the club!” Marcus exclaimed when the Australian act had finished, beaming with pride of the Aussie’s performance.
“Thank you Marcus! But you guys are so awesome! You’ve won five times! How cool is that?” Daniel replied in awe.
“Guy Sebastian did a great job tonight!” Marcus remarked.
“I did a what?” Sebastian asked, confused, before he could get an answer Hülkenberg cut in. “Pineapple, anyone?” he asked, holding up an entire pineapple.
“I would love some, thank you,” Max said, leaning forward so he could see the German over the totally not cuddling tower of Jenson Alexander Lyons Button, MBE and William Stevens ™. Smiling questioningly towards the German, young Max hesitantly waved his tiny Belgian flag as the next song started up and he got a plate filled with pineapple handed to him from a smiling Hulk.
“You want something to drink, Max?” Giedo looked at the young man, trying to engage him in conversation. “There are some sodas under Nico’s table,” he added, to make sure the boy understood that there would be something for him to drink. Max nodded, smiling at the other Dutchman.
********
“Kimi?” Sebastian whispered, when he realized the man hadn’t asked for his vodka during the ballad. Taking his eyes of the screen he saw both the Finns asleep leaning on each other. So Sebastian did the only logical thing, he got a huge Finnish flag out and covered the two sleeping men with it.
********
“We are getting closer to the German one! Aren’t you excited guys?” Dan exclaimed, smiling at the Germans spread around the room.
“But, first Greece. Which reminds me, grapes anyone?” Nico asked, looking around. “Will? You are awfully quiet today,” he added, looking at the tiny ball of fury that was seated on Jenson’s lap, even if he didn’t look very furious at the moment, more like a cat that had found a warm spot and was quite content with ignoring that it had to be on top of a giant to achieve it.
“Sure, why not,” Jenson replied, nudging Will’s side to get him to accept the bowl of grapes before taking some for himself. If Will’s stare could kill there would be a body to deal with. “Are you saying you didn’t want grapes, William,” Jenson countered, smirking, to a still staring Will.
“Oh just kiss and get it over with,” Giedo groaned, clearly tired of having to sit near the pair.
“No,” Will stated, crossing his arms and turning his head to watch the television screen instead of staring at the object of his current annoyance.
********
“Hey Hulk and Seb, your song is up after this one,” Lewis stated, ignoring his teammate’s glare.
“Plum?” Hulken asked in reply, holding one up so the Brit could see it. Receiving a nod, he threw one straight to him. Sebastian on his side was too busy contemplating if he should drape a Swedish flag over the shoulders of the two Finns to reply to the other World Champion.
“Germany is up, are you excited guys?” Daniel said, turning around for a moment to see what he assumed would be just as excited facial expressions on the rest of the drivers, but instead noticing the glare that was going on between Rosberg and Hamilton.
“I’m sure Hulk and Seb are very excited for their country to sing next, yes,” Lewis asserted, keeping the eye contact between himself and his teammate up.
“Sebastian, wie geht’s?” Rosberg asked, still not taking his eyes of his teammate.
“Es geht gut, und Sie?” Sebastian replied, before he folded the Swedish flag and got a German one out instead as the opening tones of the German entry was heard.
Will was studying the German commotion, taking in the three huge flags the drivers had and then staring at the Finnish flag draped over the sleeping Finns, “What is it Will?” Jenson whispered, noticing that the shorter Englishman wasn’t paying attention to the show.
“What’s up with all the flags?” Will replied, turning around again so he could see Jenson’s face.
“It’s Eurovision, flags are a must,” Jenson replied, placing a huge British flag over Will’s shoulders.
“That’s what I’m fucking talking about!” Will snapped, leaving the flag over his shoulders, for now. “Where the bloody hell do all these flags come from?” he continued his rant.
“Did you want a blood orange?” Hülkenberg queried, holding the aforementioned fruit out, so Will could take it, which he did. There was no reason to not be polite when people offered you something.
“Did you say you wanted more flags, Will?” Dan asked, turning around having heard some of the conversation.
“Do you want a fight?” Will replied, starting to get up from his seat, pausing when he felt Jenson place a calming hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t get in a fist-fight I don’t want that pretty face of yours to get hurt, dear,” Jenson sing-songed, resting his chin on Will’s shoulder, but not stopping him from getting up if he wanted to.