Inspiration came to me WELL after my bedtime, haha. Um.

This is supposed to be mostly from Tino's point of view, although I looove writing from Berwald's. Heh. Heh. Heh.

Well, please let me know what you think! 3

The shower water slid across Tino's curves and crevices, pooling just below him before eventually snaking it's way down the drain. Tino was lost, deep in thought, about the one thing he always hated, yet knew to be true in the back of his mind. The single word that had him blushing from ear to ear, but also furiously angered (and embarrassed), when said by Berwald. Wife.

Tino had given in, the truth was undeniable, he was technically the wife… He wasn't tall, or muscularly defined… He didn't have a deep booming voice… Let's face it, his features are rather girly. Despite this 'shocking' realization, he still refused to admit it to his…partner?

That was another thing that confused the man.

How exactly does one classify Tino & Berwald?

"I mean… He doesn't even know how much I love him…" Tino spoke his thoughts out loud, as little warm droplets of water gathered into his mouth.

"Berwald is always so kind." The Finn's heartbeat sped up slightly, reminiscing on how often the stoic man was there for him, Hana, and Peter. "But…I just- get so overflowed with happiness when I'm around him. I never think about telling him the truth… I know he has feelings for me, he nearly sings it when he's watching me cook."

He chuckled lightly, "and when he places those kisses on my forehead, he must actually think I'm sleeping…" Tino continued, his thoughts receding back into his head as he turned the shower off, and wrapped a towel around his body.

Wife. Tino smiled, another revelation had just made its way into his brain. That means Berwald is my husband.

He walked out of the bathroom, his head still preoccupied in thought, husband. Tino headed for the bedroom, when Peter stopped him.

"Mama, when's papa gonna be home?" Peter asked, concern in his eyes as he glanced to the clock on the wall.

Tino looked to the clock, and back at their son. Their son. "Papa's only about thirty minutes late, he should be home-"

The front door was thrown open and wind could be heard howling all throughout the house. Tino understood now that the weather must have taken a turn for the worse, delaying Berwald's trip home.

"Papa!" Peter ran up to the tired looking Swede, wrapping his arms around him, "Mama and I were so worried about you!"

Berwald grunted a reply before patting Peter on the head, and getting down on one knee to give him a proper hug.

That sight always makes Tino's heart melt. Berwald is such a fantastic father.

"W'rried?" Berwald questioned, blushing when he noticed that Tino was half naked and standing in the kitchen. This scene was definitely one of his fantasies, of course, minus Sealand.

"Well, it was getting late…" Tino's voice trailed off as he began thinking about the whole wife thing. He decided he would tell Berwald how he felt after Sealand was put to bed.

Peter ran back into the living room and began playing with some action figures he'd left on the floor.

Berwald hung his coat up, took off his shoes and looked at Tino again.

Tino caught Berwald's look, and returned one of his own, this one with a smile and a blush. He was going to tell him, tonight.

They both headed for the bedroom. Berwald- to take off his work clothes, and get into something more comfortable. Tino- well, to put clothes on.

Tino had never seen Berwald without his shirt on. In fact, he was pretty sure he hadn't seen past Berwald's elbows. His face flushed as he imagined the perfectly defined body that must lie underneath his usual work attire of long sleeves and khaki's. Tino was definitely not going to say anything about them changing in the same room, and he was fairly certain that Berwald wouldn't say much either.

Berwald walked in first, followed by Tino, who closed the door after them. Tino began walking to his side of the closet, when Berwald caught him by the elbow.

"Tino." Berwald said, blushing a brilliant shade of red as he began taking the tie off from around his neck. Tino had already slipped on a pair of boxers, and was feeling around in his drawer for the shortest pair of shorts he owned. He knew that by wearing short shorts that later that night he could say he was cold, and therefore would be swept up into Berwald's strong arms, and that is when he would be honest with Berwald.

"Hm? What is it?" Tino asked, in the cutest voice he could manage, holding back his urge to start unbuttoning his husband's shirt for him.

Berwald dropped his hands as his eyes drank up the sight of Tino, wearing only boxers, in such an intimate setting- their bedroom. He could feel any attempt at a word being choked out of his mind. Berwald was entranced. He wanted so badly to tell Tino how stunning he looked. How beautiful the curvature of his body is. How the warm light illuminated his eyes and made them look like sparkling amethysts. Simply put, Berwald was putty in his hands.

"Jus' don' look." Berwald mumbled, placing his hands on Tino's shoulders and turning him away from the Swede. It's not that Berwald was self-conscience, no, his body was incredibly fit. Something having to do with the thin air further north. It's just that, well, he had been in a lot of…predicaments…in the past. His body was covered in scars, from battles as recent as those with Denmark, and as long ago as those during his Viking days.

He made a point to hide them from Tino and Peter. He knew that they were just scars, and they were in the past. However, the truth was that each one had a story, and each story came from a victory or a defeat, ones that he wouldn't exactly enjoy retelling to his family. He knew his body well, knew that the sizeable gash on his left thigh came from Denmark, in which Sweden had lost. He knew that the three parallel scars that ran from the right side of his chest, down to the left side of his ribs were from the last Viking expedition that he did, where they pillaged an English farming town, and Berwald had been attacked by a famer with one of his farming tools. That last one hurt.

He tentatively unbuttoned his shirt, almost tempted to leave the bedroom, but he trusted Tino. In all honesty, he wanted to show Tino, but he didn't want the smaller nation to be frightened.

His shirt hung on his body, completely unbuttoned, as he fingered through his dresser drawer looking for the right length shirt, and pants, when he felt his shirt being pulled off his back, it was Tino.

"Ber…you know I won't judge!" Tino said playfully, as he slid the man's shirt off his back. Tino had gotten bored of waiting, and was actually looking forward to-

Berwald quickly turned around and held Tino in a tight embrace. Berwald's heart was racing; Tino could feel it beating against his own chest.

"T'no." Berwald mumbled into the Finn's ear. Their bodies were close, he could smell the clean scent of Tino's shampoo. Berwald placed his forehead on Tino's shoulder, and let out a sigh.

Tino was confused, happy, but confused. He ran his hand up Berwald's bare back to comfort him, and felt something other than what he expected. It was hard and muscly, yes, but there was another sensation. His back wasn't perfectly smooth; it felt like it was uneven, full of…

Tino understood.

Finally, Tino got it. He took a deep breath, and decided that now was the perfect moment to tell Berwald. Now, when Berwald must feel more exposed than ever before, and not just to anyone, but to Tino. Tino knew that Berwald loved him. He knew it. Tino was always just so content with their happy family, he never thought about how not telling Berwald his feelings might make the Swede feel.

"Sve…" Tino started, choosing a familiar nickname rather than the man's real name, Berwald lifted his head and placed his chin atop of Tino's. Berwald was still holding Tino closer than ever before, although his heartbeat had slowed from the moment of initial contact.

"Ja." was his only response.

The Finn bit his lip. He couldn't just say those words. He felt so defenseless, and weak, thinking about what he was committing to by saying them. Tino began thinking that by telling Berwald, that someway or another, he might be the reason for putting another laceration on the man's body.

"Can…Can I see," Tino asked. "can I help?"

Berwald was relieved to know that Tino would stand by him rather than run away. He reluctantly, slowly, released the smaller man from his arms, exposing his damaged body.

Berwald refused to look into Tino's eyes while Tino examined the man's past. He was afraid to see the look of abhorrence that he expected. He didn't want Tino to feel hurt about anything; he didn't want Tino to be concerned. He just wanted to be as honest as he could.

He felt so burdened by the physical reminders of a past that hadn't existed for hundreds of years.

Berwald mustered up the courage to look at Tino, who stood there, with his hand slightly covering his mouth, his brows furrowed, and his eyes looking slightly glossed over.

The Swede looked away, in disdain of himself. That was what Berwald didn't want the most. He didn't want to see Tino cry. He felt helpless, and mad at himself for not showing Tino sooner. He-

He was being hugged.

Tino wrapped his arms around Berwald, burying his head in the man's chest. He placed a kiss right on a scar that ran diagonally across his body. He wanted to ask what happened, but knew that Berwald would talk later. He kissed the scar again.

"I love you." The words mindlessly slipped out of Tino's mouth. Tino could hear his husband's heartbeat pickup at those words. He smiled to himself, and kissed his chest once again. At this, Tino felt Berwald's hand behind his head, holding him closer to his chest. The man took a deep breath in and placed his forehead on top of Tino's head again.

"Been waitin' for th't." Berwald's voice sounded shaky to Tino. His breathing became slightly ragged. "Love ya, T'no." He whispered.

My inspirations? An old camp song, and my love for men with scars... Like Vash the Stampede… Heh. Heh. Heh…

Please review! Pretty please!

With love, OurGloryDays