Berwald sat in his leather recliner, a cup of coffee that had long gone cold sat on the end table next to him, by the dingy lamp. Most items in his house were worn down, and while most people found it creepy and daunting, he found it comforting. Each notch on his walls told a story, every item held a piece of history, and he had no desire to replace such items. The blonde male turned a page in the thick novel in his hands, entranced by the story within. That was another thing he loved, books. He enjoyed the tales within the musky pages, the thrill one would not find in real life. It was his addiction, and there was no way in hell he would go into rehab for it. A loud boom of thunder had brought the man out of the sickly sweet tale of Hazel Grace, and Augustus Waters.

He sat the book down carefully, dog-earing his place, as he was not fond of book marks, and by folding a corner, he felt as if he was pausing time for them, lengthening their time together, without their knowledge. He gave a small sigh, and stood up, stretching his sore muscles. The old grandfather clock in the hallway deemed the time was 12:30, but, like a great deal of thing in his house, the clock was broken. The time was actually 2:00 in the mourning. Berwald walked into his kitchen, and placed the coffee mug into the sink. Normally, he would clean it immediately, but he felt as if he shouldn't. If The Fault In Our Stars had taught him anything so far, it was to enjoy the moment and try new things. So why not just leave it there and do it tomorrow?

The rain beat down against his window, engulfing his house in a thoughtful atmosphere, as most storms do for those who read and write. He picked up the book again and turned to a specifically book marked page, he found most haunting. It was when the two were talking in the plane, and when the boy, Augustus, confessed. He was sure, confident, but it was his words that struck him the most. An image sprung to his mind, the very one that haunted his dreams. A young boy laughing, running through a wide stretch of grass and weeds that no one bothered to pull out. The foot ball field was always let loose during the summer, and no one stepped foot in it. It wasn't as if it wasn't permitted, it just seemed like a waste of time to the others. Why would anyone want to go there? Students and teachers have no need to, so it was always empty, save for the two teens who occupied it. Berwald didn't run with the boy, just sat on the grass, with his knees up to his chest, watching him. The small teen ran through the field, laughing and did a few cartwheels. It was like he was free from the cruel reality of the world, like nothing else mattered more at that moment than getting grass stains on his jeans.

Yes, Berwald cared for the boy, and admitted it, though not in the best way. He repeatedly called the Finnish male his wife, meaning pure intent and only trying to tell the boy that he cared about the boy on a personal level. However, despite the innocent meaning, he took it as something else and began to avoid him as much as possible.

A sharp knock, almost blending in with the echoing thunder, interrupted the tall man from his confusing thoughts. The man placed the book back on the table and walked over to the door, but stopped. It was early in the morning, and on top of that it was raining. No one in their right mind would go to his house in such a situation, not even those who knew him. Remembering the teachings of the novel on his table, Berwald flung open the door, his heart pounding softly. In the doorway slouched the boy. Not just any boy, it was the boy, the one stuck in his head on replay. Tino Väinämöinen. And to Berwald, he was perfection. That soft blonde hair that slid down his forehead, that smooth, pale, unblemished, skin, so pleasing to the eye, the small, lithe frame. But what entranced him the most was those large, lavender eyes, so beautiful and full of light. But today, his skin was covered in bruises and small cuts, his hair was stuck to his forehead, and full of dirt, his eyes were full of fear, and he was shaking.

Berwald was never one for words, or showing his emotions. So, he usually stuck to either a blank face, or a glare, so no one would bother him. But seeing Tino like that... he just snapped. He scooped the boy up and placed him on the sink in the nearest bathroom, rushing to retrieve the first aid kit. He returned to find the blonde rocking back and forth, sniffing. "Tino... take off your clothes." He said, his usual monotone voice cracking. His voice got even lower when he was upset or stressed, and he wasn't sure which he was feeling at the moment. The Finnish male blinked up at him, clearly scared. "You have wounds on the rest of you." He explained, hoping to calm the smaller. It seemed to work, because he started to slowly remove his clothes, both out of nervousness and in pain. The Sweden man bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from doing anything as he watched.

That perfect body... how would it feel beneath his own?

He shook hi head and got the rubbing alcohol and a handful of cotton balls. Slowly, he cleaned and covered each wound, glancing up at the boy to see if he was being hurt. But the boy only closed his eyes and began to sob. Not in pain, but in remembrance of whatever caused this. Once he was done, the Swede began to clean his hair, gently placing his head under the spout and turned it on lukewarm. It was then that Tino really began to wail, and for once, Berwald was glad he lived alone, so no one would wake up to see this. He dried the boy's hair and dressed him in an old pair of pj's, all the while his mind racing. They walked to the kitchen, his eyes finally dry.

Berwald wanted answers so badly, but didn't want to cause the boy pain. There was one solution. Tino's favorite, the alluring and delicious creation, that was hot chocolate. All the while, Tino watched him. He was scary looking, yes, but he was caring. Those eyes, so cold on the surface, held curiosity for everything around him.(a/n: like Santa from rotg/shot) He was freakishly tall, even by tall people standards, and strong too. He always wore his reading glasses, so he was always prepared to read a book when given the opportunity. His semi-spiky hair framed his face, an attractive attraction, indeed. The Finnish male let out a sigh and buried his face in the comforting darkness of his arms. Why? Why did the Swede care for him so much?

Berwald set the cup next to the boy and sat down, staring at the chipped mahogany table. So here they were, sitting at a table, questions bombarding them both. "Tino..." he whispered, hoping that the other caught on.

"I'm sorry. I went out for a walk and went to the football field to think, but a group of guys were there. I tried to get away but one grabbed me and through me down. They started yelling at me, kicking me and calling me names. They said that I was a queer and tried to kill me. I screamed and ran as fast as I could. I knew that going home was not an option, my mom would... you know. So I went here. Thank you.." Tino had confessed a long time ago that his mother abused him, and his siblings were oblivious. Berwald choked down the urge to growl and go after the group. He knew them. They went by the 2p's. But making sure the crying boy in front of him was happy... it was more important. He did not know the proper way to comfort people, he always made them more uneasy. So, he went with his instincts and hugged the small boy next to him. Tino immediately broke down into tears and wrapped his arms tightly around the larger man.

To preserve their dignity, they moved to the faded cotton couch, so either had to awkwardly lean to gain that intimacy they both craved. Berwald rocked him back and forth gently, even when the younger's tears had long dried. The open book on the table stared at him, mocking him. It was funny, how books can mock us. They have characters we wish to be, or ideas we wish to claim as our own. They have at least one thing we desire, and that's how we learn. It wasn't the brilliance of the book, or the inspiring, though depressing, way that Grace thought and acted, though. It was Augustus he wished he could be more like, the way he could interact with others and draw them in, and his courage was the thing he desired most. He wished he could say it as easily as he did, just say what you wanted and not regret it. He wanted that, he needed that now. The book continued to lay here, doing what books do best, and as he stared at it, an emotion began to boil within hi.

There was no way he was loosing to a fictional character, or a book for that matter.

Berwald sucked in a breath and as the feeling began to flow over, and he tightened his grip. Funny thing about courage, people can get so worked up and ready to challenge/conquer the world, and from one movement, one image, it can disappear. Where it went, no one will ever know. Maybe it had gone to it's next victim, maybe it's saving itself for another occasion. For whatever reason it left, and where ever it went, he was happy it visited. For now he knew what he wanted. But he couldn't do it. He was his only friend, and it would cause them to be all alone. And what if he hurt him? He would be no different from those that had hurt him today. There was no way his affections would be born as words. There was too much at stake. No matter how much he wanted it, no matter what his own desires, he would never-

"I love you"

Guess he did loose to a book after all. Berwald lacked the courage, but Tino, the broken and lost boy, did. Well played, The Fault In Our Stars/ Augustus Waters, you were a worthy opponent. That was the first thing that went through his head. The second, was shock. He froze and went wide eyed, his brain processing what he said. Tino gulped and tried to push away, and because of the Swede's comatose like state, it was surprisingly easy. "I'm sorry... I thought, for a moment, that you shared the same feeling as I did. I guess I screwed up, huh?" The boy smiled weakly, trying to hide his pain, But his tears gave it away. Damn tears. It was when Tino was reaching for the doorknob, that Berwald broke out of his trance. He jolted forward, caught the Finnish boy by the wrist and pressed him against the wall.

"No." was all he said, and what else could he say? Well, plenty of things, but it was most effective. He could have spat out poetry, confessed his love, albeit awkwardly, but he chose to say 'no'. The boy looked shocked, and just stared into his wintery glare.

"B-But-"

"No." and then, deciding it was best not to speak and say something to drive the young boy away, he did the only thing a closet perverted teenager could do. He kissed him, and after a counted ten seconds, pulled away to stare into wide, confused eyes. "No. Do you understand why?"

Tino bit his lip, and glanced at the ground. 'Holy jingle bells, is he scary.' "Does this mean you like me?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably.

Berwald kissed him again, only this time, a little longer, and tried to put all his feelings into that kiss, like in books. This time, when he pulled away, he saw understanding, and happiness inside those beautiful eyes. "I love you." he said, before diving in for another kiss. He was fascinated by it. How well those soft lips melded with his own. It was exhilarating, and addicting. There was a faint taste lingering on the boy's mouth, and he knew that the only thing he wanted in that moment, was have more of it. He pressed closer, trying to get a better taste, trying to get that intimacy, he had desired for so long. Tino wasn't a statue either, he moved along with the man, blushing furiously.

They migrated upstairs, still exploring the uncharted territory of each other. Fingers grazing flesh and running along spines, it was ecstasy. Neither realized where they were until Tino landed on the bed, Berwald looming over him, eyes wide. "Tino..." he whispered apologetically, backing off slowly. The Finnish male clung to the others torso, and while Berwald could easily still escape, the meaning was clear.

"No. I want this. Please, Ber." He mumbled, face similar to a tomato. Berwald didn't speak, he couldn't. So instead, he leaned forward, pinning and straddling Tino on the bed and placing his cheek next to his lover's. His lips, which were slightly chapped, ghosted against the Fins jaw, and,without hesitation, moved to his neck. "Berwald?" the smaller asked. He was confused on why the man had stopped, and was wriggling impatiently.

"Mine..." he answered, before attaching his mouth to his neck. He bite down gently and ran his tongue over the spot, smoothing it over. Tino gasped loudly, before letting loose a small groan in pleasure. That same mouth lowered to his shirt buttons, tugging on each one with impatience, until the each gave away. Tino, during that time, began to undress the other, not wanting it to be uneven. Eventually, the two were completely naked and strangely aroused by the little stripping session. Berwald's lust filled eyes grazed over Tino's exposed body and licked his lips, tantalizingly. He got do caught up in his thoughts, he didn't notice the small male move until he felt hot breath on his member. He let out a long groan as his lover licked the tip experimentally, and then again as he took most of it into his mouth, working what he couldn't with his hands. "T-Tino...nnggh." he breathed, as the other began to bob and hollow their cheeks, causing Berwald's member to swell. A few moments later, he pulled away and pinned Tino back onto the bed. "Not yet... we have to get to the main event first." He purred, smirking softly. Upon seeing such a sexy smirk, and his suggestive words, Tino almost had a nosebleed,but settled for blushing and half closing his eyes.

Berwald sucked his own fingers and after coating them in a good layer of saliva, brought them to the younger's entrance. Tino nodded, and in went the finger, swirling around, gently stretching his walls. Tino bit his lip and closed his eyes, wincing slightly in pain. Then, a second digit was added, the same process repeated, until the third was added. His scream was swallowed in a fiery kiss, provided by Berwald, until he pulled away. Tino whimpered, twisting to relieve the tension in his vital regions, but it only caused it to get worse. "Berwald, please..." he groaned shutting his eyes. A moment later they had flown open due to a foreign object bushing his entrance. (A/n: (its France! jk)i learned in health that guys have cervix's (for us ladies its like the vaginal opening). i never knew that.) Berwald looked at him, his eyes screaming his lust. He looked like he was holding back some beast, and he probably was, considering how erect his member was. Even so, his expression was humble, as he asked for Tino. As he asked for his desires.

Tino, who was panting and biting his lip, nodded quickly. It was all he needed to continue. He slid in slowly, so the fragile boy below him wouldn't break into a thousand pieces. Of course the boy felt pain, but only briefly, before a wave of pleasure hit him. The Finnish male rolled his hips, signaling for the man to continue, which he gladly pulled out, leaving only the tip before slamming back in, causing Tino to gasp. Berwald started slow, but mercilessly picked up speed and force till he was pounding the teen into his navy sheets. He picked up the boy, and pinned him against the wall, his back facing Berwald's stomach and began to ram into him from behind. The walls creaked and groaned with protest but they held. The bed, however, was rocking violently and knocked against said walls harshly. They were nearing the end, and so, Berwald once again switched their positions. Now Tino was on his knees, all weight supported on his forearms. Berwald was still fucking Tino from behind, one hand on the boy's hip, the other pumping his member in tune to his thrusts.

The bed gave an echoing screech before a loud crack was heard, then another. They were tilted, thus they rolled onto the floor, but got back into their previous condition. Tino had been moaning most of the time, but they were getting louder with each thrust. Time was running short. Berwald leaned forward, still pounding Tino and groaned into his ear. "Say my name."

"B-Berwald." the young teen whispered, his voice caught in his throat.

"Louder."

"Berwald!" it was louder this time, but not loud enough or the Swede. He wanted the world to know.

"Scream it, scream my name!"

"BERWALD!" the young male screamed, arching his back and gripping the carpet. Not too long after, his walls tightened around his lover's member and cum exploded from his member as he gave one final cry. After a few more thrusts, Berwald followed suit, groaning Tino's name. Seeing as the two just had rough, bed shattering sex, they were exhausted. Thus, Berwald grabbed the nearest blanket, and draped it over their sweaty bodies. They lay there, panting, neither one brave enough to conquer the mighty silence. Tino made the first move by snuggling against his lover and letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Berwald? What now? Ah! Don't get me wrong, I'm really happy about tonight it's just... As cheesy as it sounds you were my dream, you know? Know that I have you... what can my new dream be?"

The Swedish male frowned and wrapped his arm around his lovers waist, remembering how easily cold his 'wife' got. (a/n: reference to a certain episode ;D) "You'll figure it out. You're still changing colors, trying to find your place and what is yours to claim. You'll see..." and with that, he fell asleep, snoring softly, though he would never admit it.

Tino grinned softly before yawning. "Changing colors, huh? Well, I hope whatever color I become, it's the same as yours." he sighed, before he, too, fell asleep...

(the next day at school, which they were late for)

Berwald slammed the red eyed Italian against the locker, an icy glare set on his face. "The hell! What was that for, idiota!"

"You know why. Tell your friends that if they touch Tino again, there will be hell to pay." he growled. Berwald wasn't one to resort to violence, but seeing the head of the 2p! gang had set him off the edge.

The Italian spat in his face and kicked him in the shins, causing the teen to let him go and back up. "Pshha. Like we would ever let that.. queer roam our halls. And-a you are not going to stop us. You're too big of a pussy to do anything."

A wide, and rather twisted smile spread across his face,causing the gang member to flinch. "I might not want to ruin my reputation, or upset my Tino, but I know someone who will... Ivan, if you would."

"Become one with mother Russia, da?" a thickly accented voice said, directly behind the Italian. His ruby eyes widened as he turned to face none other than Ivan Braginski and his trusty lead pipe. "That was a yes? Good, now we can play with your friends." and so, 'Russia' dragged a screaming Italian down the hallways, causing some to turn heads, to the abandoned music room, where the rest of the 2p! gang resided. (They had met the same fate as their leader was about to witness first hand) Berwald chuckled, and walked to his politics class that he had 'stepped out' of, his thoughts turned to a certain boy.

"You're still changing colors, Tino, and I'm forever yours."

a/n: dooooonnneeee! ohmagerb, finally. this is for my fellow SuFin friend! I hope it met your expectations, I'm actually kind of happy the way this turned out. and sorry it's late, i thought had turned it in to my (awesomer than Prussia) beta, but i didn't. *hides under desk* don't kill me! hope you liked it! comment below please!